Is the pain after a break (up) and the strength of a relationship proportional?
I ponder at the question, painting my toe nails, three days after Nikhil decided we need to take a… break.
There’s a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
I let Whatever It Takes by ImagineDragons play in the background, conveniently ignoring the tap on my door.
I hum to the lyrics, getting up to iron my clothes for the day, ignoring the way my best friend is yelling from the other side.
“I’m fine. I’m alive”, I yell back.
There’s a pause, followed by a ‘Fuck You’.
Good.
I knew I was in for a major drilling session when Anshu finally catches me, but it didn’t stop me from avoiding humans the last few days.
I hadn’t even spoken to mom the last three days.
And I think I’m getting withdrawal symptoms now.
I’m annoyed when Nikhil plagues my thoughts, making my eyes glassy, for the too-many-times-to-count-th time.
I sniff.
Fuck you, Nikhil.
How dare he decide we need to take a break without my input?
But there’s also a part of me that’s… relieved.
Nikhil is expecting too much from me, in too little time. I do like him. But something is holding me back from expressing myself completely.
Thank you, Dhruv. For spoiling love for me.
Asshole.
Over the next few days, I find myself analysing myself, the situation, Nikhil, Dhruv, our mistakes, everything in between.
The more I think about it, the more I found myself at wrong, the more I could relate to Nikhil’s pain.
And it haunted me.
I’m almost sure I’m slipping into depression when my physical appearance started to get affected. There are bags under my eyes, my clothes looser, my hair drier, my body weaker.
I let it continue for another two days, making it a grand total of three weeks of wallowing in misery, self pity, before I’d started missing my old self back.
Me, missing myself was a big thing.
I need to step up my play, let some people in , shut some people out.
And I should probably also rent out Anshu’s room.
The idiot shifted into my room.
My eyes are blurry as I think of my best friend, thanking God for giving me her(even though I would never admit it to her).
“What’s with the face?”
Anshu shrugs, dropping on my bed, “Tired.”
As I gaze at Anshu while she grumbles to herself about how some of our professors must be shot, unease gripped me.
“I’m a shit friend, aren’t I?”
“What?”, Anshu snaps her eyes open, frowning.
I shrug, “I am, right?”
“Sandy”, Anshu groans, turning around so she could lie on her stomach, “Have you hit your head again while cleaning the shelves? I’ve told you not to do it so man—Ouch.”
She rubs the spot I’ve pinched her, glaring at me.
“No you’re not”, she rolls her eyes, squeezes my hand, giving me the exact look I knew she’d give me when I continue to stare at her with a blank look.
I’m unprepared at the relief that I feel.
Usually, I’m a confident person. These things don’t mean jack to me.
But lately, things have been… different.
I could feel myself fall into the spiral of being wanted, being accepted.
Which is toxic as fuck.
Were Dhruv and Nikhil unwilling to be with me because of me or themselves.
I find myself at extremes whenever I think of this particular thing.
One part of me thinks Nikhil is right. He’s been hurting for quite sometime now. And it’s necessary for him to think about himself , his mental health. And I also know I haven’t exactly eased his pain while I was with him. So it’s natural for us to drift apart for a while before we could come back stronger.
But the other part, the part that fills me with insecurities thinks I am the problem, that I don’t deserve anyone, that no one can actually be with me. The fact that my negative subconscious even has a backup for this particular explanation gnaws at my insides at times.
Nikhil claims to love me, to have loved me since years. And if a man who has loved me for years didn’t want to be with me because the broken pieces of me were wounding him, how can anyone love me. Dhruv had left me. Nikhil had left me. Even though their reasons were different, the conclusion is alike.
There were times I hated Nikhil. He made such big promises, such heavy statements, and in the end, when I’d asked him if we should split, out of vulnerability and society’s take on the matter, he showed me the way out.
But there were also times when I empathised with him, having to deal with my million doubts, my insecurities while dealing with his own simultaneously without as much expecting anything for me, making my heart ache, eyes bleed, lips pray.
Inspite of trying to think through things rationally, the ugly thought of no one actually likes me for being me creeps in, making me bitter, my anger, my hatred increasing.
Even though the thought is disheartening, there was little I could do about it.
How dare he show me so many dreams, promise me that he would stay with me, wait for me, and then leave me at the most unexpected of times.
But I also know he’s protecting himself, like I’m protecting myself.
So yeah.
The battle between my minds hasn’t been easy.
And the worst part was I couldn’t really explain it or discuss it with anyone.
Nobody understood.
It either came down to self-esteem issues or ego issues.
And, because it felt personal.
“Stop it Sandy.”
I glance at Anshu, sighing, as I shrug my shoulders, swallowing back the words, the unease.
I had talked about it to Anshu, and she did reassure me.
But there’s only so much role external factors can play when the problem is internal.
I had to do something about it.
“Gosh, I feel like slapping Nikhil. What has he done to you.”
I laugh, although my laughter dissolves when the next few words leave her mouth.
“But I also get where he’s coming from. You guys need this break.”
“Yeah”, my voice is hoarse, irritant, “We do.”
I’m positive I’m out of touch with my feelings(or just bipolar) when I wake up the next day, feeling completely normal, even though I’d cried myself to sleep.
I’m bewildered when there’s only a slight twist in my heart when I see Nikhil after three weeks, two days.
I’m not counting. No.
Nothing.
No teary eyes.
No running and hugging and crying.(why the fuck do movies dramatise everything?)
The constant in my life stayed though.
The painfully awkward silence.
Nikhil just stares at me. I allow him to check me out as I keep my expression as neutral as possible as I give him a small smile, and wave at him in Hi.
I almost want to laugh at his confused face as he smiles back, nods, hesitantly joining me on the stone bench, maintaining a cordial distance between us.
I swing my leg, not saying anything.
Actually, I have nothing to say.
I frown to myself.
Why the fuck am I not feeling anything?
“How are you Sandy?”
I turn to Nikhil, unable to stop myself from studying his face, unable to stop the bitterness in my tone, “Perfect.”
Nikhil flinches, but nods.
Goodness. I hate passive aggressive people. And here I am, acting like one.
“How are you?”, I ask, out of courtesy.
Anger.
All I felt is blazing anger as I studied his face from about two feet away, the face that I’d missed dearly, the face that’s been haunting my dreams since three weeks.
My breath catches in anticipation when Nikhil raises his hand, only to be disappointed when he runs it through his hair.
“I’m fine”, he answers.
I couldn’t help be petty when I mumble under my breath, “Of course you are.”
Either he hadn’t heard me, or didn’t take the bait as he spoke, “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Yes.”
There’s a question in the silence, which I don’t answer, as I continue to be petty.
“Sandy?”
“Yeah?”, I turn to him.
Nikhil sighs in frustration, though amusement dances in his eyes.
I huff quietly, willing the redness in my cheeks to go away as I try to make an annoyed face.
The silent questionnaire between us is disturbed when my mobile rings, “Hello?”
I listen to the caller.
“Yes. I’m waiting for you at the stone bench. You need to come a little inside the campus and take right. We could go from here.”
I listen, repeat the instructions.
I’m aware of the confused look on Nikhil’s face as he studies my face from his peripheral view.
“Yeah. Sure Akhil”, I end the call.
I reel in sadistic pleasure as I observe Nikhil wanting to ask what I’m upto but not actually asking coz he’s technically no one to me right now.
I grin smugly, in the inside.
Petty.
You’re being petty, and stupid as fuck.
You broke up with Dhruv because he thought you cheated. What if Nikhil thought this Akhil guy is someone new?
My face falls at my thoughts, my mood quickly dropping.
Nikhil stands up, “Okay”, he pockets his hands, looking around into the falling darkness, “See you around.”
“Nikhil”, I stop him.
He probably thinks you’re going somewhere with this Akhil, and so leaving you.
Subconscious, I hate you.
“I… I had told you about Niranjan uncle, remember? The one who had back pain and wanted to consult our Orthopedicians?”
Nikhil frowns, nodding, “Yeah. I remember.”
“Akhil is their son”, I mumble, “They’re coming to get their scans done. They had gotten a late appointment. So I’m—”
“You don’t have to explain it to me Sandy”, Nikhil smiles softly.
I nod, looking down as tears make my vision hazy.
“Sandy”, Nikhil calls, walking towards me, “Hey. Look at me. Why are you crying?”
I’m embarrassed would be an understatement, as I turn around, quickly wiping my eyes, “Nothing”, I swallow.
I hate the ugly feeling, the insecurity, that the guy(s) I’m involved with don’t trust me, think I’m unstable when it comes to men.
Nikhil doesn’t make any effort to comfort me.
Small details.
The details I’d taken for granted.
They’re biting me back in the ass now.
I sniff once again, glancing at my mobile when it pings.
“Um. I need to leave”, I mumble.
“Okay.”
“Where are you going?”, I question when Nikhil walks next to me.
Nikhil presses his lips thin, “I’ll accompany you till the hospital. I…”, he pauses, “I have some work.”
There’s a stupid smile on my lips as we continue to walk together.