Almost based on 28 Apr 19. All the fiction I write is based on something or the other I so completely have encountered either personally or in a dream. This one, I shall keep as close to the truth as possible. I want to be able to look at this some days / weeks / months later and know why events turned out the way they did.
And yes, here it is, my dear diary moment!
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This is the story of a day, rather half of an evening in the life of Tamanna. A story-teller. An outlier for the world, often misunderstood. She was scared of getting to know people far up close, assuming all people who got closer to her would have the potential to hurt her. And boy! Had she been hurt previously!
Well, once bitten, twice shy.
The person that she was, the perfect recipe for Tamanna would be a spoonful of judgements, 2 tablespoons pessimism, a faint hint of masochism, a large bowl of unvented anger, and a whole lot of fear. She would no longer approach people to make friends or to just engage in small talk. Someone once got to know her a little better than the rest (unwillingly, of course) and scolded her that she treated all people like subjects of research, instead of people. That, probably was the reason why she would never be capable of any form of proximity.
On a fine evening, Tamanna waited at the coffee shop and her irritation was increasing in geometric progression with every passing minute. She wasn't even sure why was she meeting him. He was but a random stranger she had met at the movies once. They spoke a bit about Iron Man and she found him to be an interesting guy. She did not even realise why they had exchanged numbers, but they did. She thought it was just harmless banter and had no idea what he thought.
And yet, a few days later, there she sat, waiting for him. He had asked her for some help and asked her to meet him at the coffee shop down the road. The help needed seemed like a fair request and she was certain that the place and time at which he asked for the same wasn't inappropriate. She, therefore, did not find any reason to decline his request.
Make no mistake, she knew he was married and only thought of him as a funny man. She had convinced herself that funny men are generally honest. So she waited for him. When he finally did arrive, about twenty minutes late, she was a little vexed and wondering why was she even willing to assist a random stranger. He needed some help with some mundane chore, very generic and basic questions. Tamanna answered them all and then they proceeded to coffee and small-talk, which wasn't enough for her. In her head, she wanted to know more, she wanted to judge the person that he was and identify the fallacies in his character. She always wanted to know how this human would make to be the absolute worst of his kind.
So she went forth to play a little game she always played with all people she ever met, i.e. put them in a spot, ask them uncomfortable questions and see how they react. This harmless game, to an un-suspicious mind, but it generally instigated people to say the wrong things. And, since people don't like being wrong, they would then explain the rationale behind what they said or did. She hated these explanations, a lot. But this would show her how people felt about things, their hesitations, the strength of their belief in anything, the works!
She would form her judgement way before anyone would even realise they gave up things non-vocally. On majority of the times, she believed that her read on the person in question was correct. And that, was satisfying.
As she did not know the person well and did not want to ask something that would be too controversial (not at first at least), she began asking the stranger questions about his marriage: How and why did he get married, was he happy being married, did he still like his wife after so many years of being married, and she just kept going on. She loved his answers though. Generally, she would just ask people questions and hear answers that would amuse her in a way that she'd find solace in the knowledge that it is not just her that makes the wrong choices. But here he was, not that he did not make the wrong choices, but he allowed himself to be wrong occasionally. He would try and find logical ways out of all the mess that he'd gladly walk into. He even explained the nuances of his married life and had no qualms in acknowledging that he did not understand his wife and she was a completely different person. More importantly, the fact that they were such different people did not matter. He was certain that no one else would or rather should spend her entire life with him. He was happy the way things shaped up. He actually explained the chain of events that led to their marriage and what makes him believe in marriage. It was no till death do us part story. It was practical, comprehensive and extremely well said.
For all she knew, this could have been a fake story. But Tamanna was impressed by the sheer simplicity of the story. It was too ordiniary to be fake. For the first time in many many months, she did not want to judge this person. She was happy to know him just at face value. Aside of the simplicity, it seemed liberating even. For some reason unknown to her, she asked him if he'd be willing to give her some advice. He was more than willing to do so.
So she told stranger that she had met a guy, (she did not name Prabhu) a little while ago and had fallen in love. She clarified that she did not know what or how had made her stay in love with this person, he who was perfectly clear that he wasn't ever going to be able to feel any emotion (for her) that even remotely resembled love. He had said that multiple times, to her dismay. She thought that it was because he was incapable of love altogether, which hurt a bit, but not too much. But a while ago, she realised that he had fallen in love with someone else much after he met her and he did not tell her about it, because she did not seem relevant enough. She was made a party to the information only after she mercilessly dumped him. Tamanna was aghast at that knowledge because he was capable of falling in love, just not with her. She couldn't decide on what to do about it as she wasn't willing to move on, even though she did not seem to have much choice in that department.
Tamanna couldn't stand the sight of the stranger anymore, when she heard what he had to say. She bid farewell and vowed to herself that Prabhu would be a distant memory and so would the learned stranger. She walked away, never to look back.
It is this that is utmost weird about truth. However, blatant or helpful it may be, the bearer of the truth is always hated the most. Tamanna was probably living in a dream. She lived with the hope that there may be a certain something that may eventually lead to a fairy-tale ending where Prabhu would realise that he could love her even a fraction of how much she loved him and they could have their own version of a almost happily ever after. She wasn't an optimist, mind you. And yet, she wanted to cling to this little piece of hope that never should have existed in the first place. When this stranger presented his version of reality to her, she wasn't particularly surprised. It is believed that you do not resent what you already know. Tamanna did not resent the reality here, she utterly resented the stranger. She probably would never be able to justify that to anyone, not that she would try to.
"Girl, do you even realise what you're doing? You give some sort of support to this person. It may be emotional, or for that matter, it may just be the tiny morale boost that there is this someone who is interested in spending all of her time and emotions on him. In his world, you're probably not the Plan B, like the second choice. You're probably Plan F, where Plan D is to turn gay or to spend the entire life loveless. You know when a girl is that available to a guy, who doesn't care for her in a similar fashion, irrespective of how smart, beautiful, or headstrong she is, she loses respect. That is how all men function. And the more you prolong it, the lesser you shall be respected. For all you know, he sits with his gang, a beer in hand and cracks jokes about you, reads your texts to others. Trust me, it happens. Men are insensitive.
Yes, it probably was a mistake to fall for him in the first place. But is the crime grave enough for you to punish yourself by staying in love with him. He's never coming for you. If he had to, he would have by now.
It tends to be difficult to let go of a relationship that never existed in the first place. But, if it did not exist, wouldn't you even want to consider that it was for a reason. Would you really want to nurture it to an even larger entity and then realise that it needs to be shredded?
I do not know much about you, and you probably think I am just being a wiseass. But from whatever conversation I've had with you so far, I believe you're getting what I said. Don't do this to yourself. I won't say that you deserve better because I do not know you or the guy in question. But you definitely deserve closure. Heck, everyone deserves closure. Don't you do this to yourself. Let go. It's better for you."
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