It is not a rough and tragic story but it ‘was’.

I have this strange feeling that falling in love with the idea of you will be the cause of my death.

But, hey, it’s my old-self talking here. Like, maybe if I was 16 and crazy and head over heels for you again, I might say that. I might plead you to not leave me, or to stay with me for a few more days until my crying every night would stop.

It’s my old-self wanting you to be with me every day, like a kid wanting to be in a candy store for the rest of her life.

It’s my 16-year-old-self wanting you to text me every second, every minute, every hour, and would get angry and pissed like an immature child when you don’t reply back and get all paranoid.

I was like a child. An only and alone child. Little did I know that I acted like one.

But, honey, let meremind you that it’s my 16-year-old-self who’s talking.

And that isn’t me now.

I just realized that it’s okay if you won’t text me back or call me back. That it’s fine if you won’t spend your whole day watching movies with me. And it won’t be a problem if you don’t want an immature and an attention seeker girl in your life.

It is all alright.

I don’t want you anymore, either. Yes, it’s my 18-year-old-self talking now. I know it has just been 2 years and I might sound self-conceited but I want to claim it now– I became decisive about relationships. That in 2 years, it might felt short but how I sewn myself together felt real long. Don’t get me wrong. I got over you for atleast several months long. But the idea of me having in a relationship with you was still bugging me then and I got to say, “Here it is again. What a fool.”

But I also realized that, no, I should not regret the idea of the ‘then you and I’. Because if it wasn’t for you, I won’t be this cautious. I won’t be this afraid to fall in love. If it wasn’t for you, maybe I would just settle for ‘lesser’, without buts and standards.

You were a lesson. You were a gift.

And you were a complete part of my story and if it wasn’t for you, my story, out of the 7 billion stories, would be the most futile stories in the entire universe.

So I am ending this up with the words of

“Thank you”.


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