It was drizzling. She was sitting across from me, her face facing the drizzle. Her legs stretched, one arm on the railing. The rain drops were misting her face and the arm on the railing. She had a faint smile on her lips. Her eyes were welling up now and then, but she wasn't crying. The tears weren't flowing down her cheeks. She would sigh occasionally and look at me and smile. Then look away. I had no clue what to do in that split second of eye contact- to smile back at her, or wipe the tears that weren't flowing yet.
Her collar bones were starting to get damp, thanks to the trails of water drops running from her arms down her neck and chest. Her gorgeous thick hair framing her face were starting to frizz. Yet, she looked beautiful. As beautiful as the trails of water drops framing the railing. I looked into her eyes. The greenery of the landscape ahead reflected in her big, clear eyes. The vision would get blurred as and when her eyes welled up.
And I couldn't bear it.
It was time. It was time to tell her the truth. This girl was with me from more than eight months. I had met her that night he broke her heart into thousand million pieces and walked away. I had met her when was a huge crying mess, sobbing so hard, she was out of breath. I had known her from the moment she lost her breath, to the moments she was stealing people's breath away. I had seen her transform from a lost mess to a hot mess. It killed me to notice how the mess remained intact all through. I was with her the nights when she bawled and the nights she abused him. I had seen her love him, and I had seen her hate him. I had known the girl that would have happily traded her life for his approval. She was ready to cross oceans for him, while he hadn't wanted to jump puddles for her. All for one mistake.
For loving him.
My heart bled to look at that innocent face, the 17 year old that fell in love and now, was holding her broken heart, glued, yet the cracks clearly visible. She had not one single emotion on her face, but a multitude of them. Sadness, anger, dissapointment. In no particular order or frequency, but just one at a time. Sometimes she would smile into the emptiness, remembering a happy memory may be. I would never query her about it. I had let her do that, because on some days, that was her only happy moment of a waking hour, and I, didn't want to be the monster that took her smile away.
Her smile was that beautiful. May be being 17 did that to her. The beauty of the smile. The fragrance of her first love, the petals that just bloomed. Her smile was a melodious composition of happiness, love, a hint of naughtiness and a pint of sexy. The way she discreetly bit on her lower lips and tilted her neck, her cheeks pink. Oh! That is when I would absolutely understand why people were so mesmerized with her smile. Why he had fallen for her. Why, love was born. And sometimes, I would wonder what made him fall out of love. Because the smile was still intact. With a hint of pride now though, but the melodious composition never really was altered.
These days, I hadn't seen her smile like that. She would laugh, these days. She would giggle, scream with joy. But that smile, I would see it only on those rare nights she would smile into emptiness. Even when a dozen guys openly admired her and gave her their best smiles, she would giggle. Her giggle sounded like a waterfall. She would smile big. She would accept the admiration, but would never accept the guys. She would carefully make them understand about her broken heart, keeping in mind to break their hearts in the mildest ways possible. She would tell them how sorry she was to be breaking their hearts. She would tell me how guilty she was to be breaking the hearts, and how helpless she was because of her own broken heart. I had told her how it is okay to not want another heart anytime soon. I, better than anybody, better than her, knew she needed a break.
I also knew, she was breaking hearts not because hers was still broken, but because a chord of hope was holding her back. She knew how to unbreak her heart, but she didn't know if she wanted to. She didn't know if she wanted to recover even while she knew how to.
She would tell her friends of how she had changed, how she is happy in life. Everybody had started to notice the spring in her steps. She was becoming prettier by day, more loving, more lovable inside out. She was doing amends to all relationships that she had thoroughly ignored when in love. She was going back to her roots, and thank god for His mercy, everybody were taking her back with open arms. She was happy. Not very, not completely. But happy.
A few days ago, I was conversing with her. She was telling me of her latest decisions. She had decided to be happy. She didn't want to wait anymore. "I don't know why. I think its enough time I have waited. May be you are right, you know? May be, I shouldn't be guilty anymore. May be I should really make an effort to live a life. Like really live, you know? I am going to take baby steps, and you'll be there for me. I know". I had seen her eyes in those moments. I could see just how much she had hurt herself in the process of being so guilty. It was killing her day in and day out. Every time she would make an effort to feel good, the voices whispered her sins to her. And she would walk back, moments after walking ahead.
I had the cure with me, and she knew it. She knew it was okay for her to be okay. She was waiting for an yes from me.
I knew it too, I knew that she knew. But I was afraid, of giving her the truth. I knew that would make her walk away. And I, would be left alone. I knew it, her walking away would hurt me though it would make me strong in the long run. I knew it was best for both of us to let her go. I knew it. But I didn't want to. Letting her go meant the acceptance of the newness. I would end up being the new person. I would have to accept and embrace the newness. A new love, new feelings, and no guilt. I knew this. I didn't want the change. Somehow, being with her gave me the comfort of familiarity. The topics to talk on and brood on when I was bored. I always had an option to talk to her and feel nostalgic. Losing her would be finding me, from the depths of me. I would have to be reborn. A new life, a new person. I would lose all the memories of me. The girl with a heart break. I would lose the tag. The familiar comfort of a heart broken person. I didn't want to. I was afraid.
But the pain in her eyes made me realize how much of precious time I had wasted, holding on to the broken girl. Of how much pain I had caused. Of how I was breaking myself again and again, because clutching on to broken glass hurts you too. I wanted to be happy, I wanted her to be happy. She had to know what a douche he was, and I had to tell her. I had to complete her transformation, she was in a state of transition. Exposing her to the real world, to what exactly was happening, would make her go away. That would leave me empty. But she had to know why she had no reason to be guilty, and sorry. She had to put him off the pedestal. She had to realize how he never deserved her respect. The respect she had held for him even after he had destroyed her. She had to know that this time, she had all rights to be the one that was wronged. She had to realize that she loved the wrong guy. I knew she used to believe in love, princes and reunites. Even if not with the intensity like before he walked away, she still believed in miracles. But hope is a funny thing. Sometimes, you've got to hang on to it and get through life, and sometimes, its just an illusion. You just stay there hoping for things, and the world runs in an absolutely opposite direction. She knew this. She wanted an affirmation from me.
And today, it was time. I knew it was time. To let her go meant I would be reborn and I was, finally, okay with it. I was ready to embrace my new life. I was ready not to cry and throw tantrums. I was ready to enter my world, even if it meant I would change. Completely new a person. No expectations, no baggage, no love, no hate. Absolute zeal for life. I knew it was time for me to move on, and let her go.
I knew I had moved on when I decided to let her go.
So I stood up, and sat beside her. She was surprised, I had never really held her hands before. I held her hands in mine, looked deep into her eyes and whispered, "You have always deserved better, and you know it too. Its time for you to let go of him, and its time for me, to let go of you. You'll always be at the back of my mind, I shall always remember you and cherish you. For you are the girl that taught me how to love. You are the girl that showed me you can love somebody even when all they do is destroy you. You are the girl that showed me how you can wish good for that one person whilst he busily lived his life. You, are the girl, that taught me life. But its time for you to go, because its time for me to live the way you taught me to. You are always welcome in my life, the privilege is always open for you. And I am telling you this because I know, you'll never come back. Leave now, you. Its over. Its a new chapter in my life the second you leave, and you shall never be mentioned again. Neither you, nor him. The story of you both is over. I am burning the pages, the words are intact in my mind. You taught me to love someone that killed your love, I am teaching you the values of self worth, self love and the power to forgive yourself and the world. You have to be powerful enough to accept your mistakes and forgive yourself for them. It takes strength to confess, yes. It takes more strength to accept, and forgive. Your mistakes make you the person that you are, and you girl, are amazing. But now, you should leave. I have loved you and will always love you. But then, love is not enough."
She had no expression on her face while I spoke. And then, a sweet smile started spreading on her face. It startled me. Yes, that smile. She was there, smiling that smile at me.
"I am glad you finally are letting me go. You are making a favor to yourself and to me. I'll miss you, I'll always love you".
She stood up and straightened her wrinkled skirt. She pushed her hair behind her ears, and smiled that smile again.
"Close your eyes, and do not open until all you can hear is the rain drops on the maple leaves", her voice ringed in her eyes.
I closed my eyes and sat, desperately waiting for any signs of her leaving. Strange enough, as moments passed by, a peace engulfed me. And soon enough, all I could hear was the rain drops on the maple leaves.
I opened my eyes and stood up, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. A hundred suns warming my insides, the glow engulfing me over the peace. I felt lighter, happier and beautiful. I felt alive.
Letting go and moving on had never felt this beautiful. It took all of my courage to ask her to walk away, but I did. It took me the strength of my existence to remove him from the depths of me, but I did. Because though moving on is the hardest things to do, once you realize how better off you are without the person weighing you down, its probably the most blessed events of life.
I walked into my room, and felt my presence radiating the room. I looked in the mirror and couldn't help smiling that smile :)
PS: Brianna Wiest is one of the writers that always inspires me, gives me new thoughts to ponder over. I wrote this after a marathon reading of her articles.
PPS: I don't own the image, the source has been provided.