Thing to Remember
The truth is, my love, that everything will hurt eventually. If you choose to build a wall, maybe then nobody can hurt you. But then, nobody can make you happy either.
The golden sunlight almost reached the window. Meera puts her hand on the railing and then slowly bents towards the sunlight.
"You'll fall, Meera. What are you doing?"
"Trying to chase something. Something that seems too far away", she said and paused, "almost like love."
"Why does love seems far away?"
"Well, sometimes pushing away is better than dreaming of something that only hurts you. Isn't it, Kavish? Haven't you decided to push away people, too?"
I take off my glasses and sit beside her.
"I will hold you from behind. Go, and chase your sunlight."
She bents a little more and makes shadow figures.
"Honestly, I don't push people away anymore", I say.
"Because millions of people have decided that they won't let anything or anyone hurt them. The truth is that you cannot stop people from ruining you, and you cannot stop them from loving you either. You sit in an abysmal silence and lock all your doors and windows. You build walls and choose not to be sensitive. You talk too much, and you kiss too many. You sleep on hotel beds every other Saturday night and you look at the faces of the strangers who lie beside you. You throw your words meaninglessly, you say "I love you" to the ones who make you feel a little human, who tries to understand you even a little bit. You make lovers out of terrible people and you tell yourself that if this is love, you are glad to have grown a thick skin. You are glad that you protect yourself so much that nobody can tear you down. And slowly, you shut down your heart. You grow numb. There's a black hole growing in the back of your head and you can almost see it when it's deafening silence. You embrace people to feel some warmth, but you only feel waves of sadness washing over your cold body. You decide to open up a little bit, but you cannot. It's too late. You can't open the windows again. And then it happens, after a long time. You put yourself down, for a little bit, and you find yourself a week later drinking on a Monday night at 2 AM and listening to Cleopatra by The Lumineers.
"Your eyes are teary, and your throat is all choked up. You want to cry, but you secretly love it that you can feel something, that you actually cared about someone in reality. And it feels okay for the first time in a long while.
The truth is, my love, that everything will hurt eventually. If you choose to build a wall, maybe then nobody can hurt you.
But then, nobody can make you happy either."