Last week, I was coming home and I stopped at a traffic signal. The car next to me had its windows down and the strains of When love and hate collide drifted to me. Oh, oh, oh. The pain of a treasured memory that will never be real again, is exquisite.
And then, two days back, I find an an offliner on my yahoo messenger from him. It says:
You should get professional help for that masochist side you have.
Bastard. I hate him so much. Why does it hurt? It shouldn’t. Its been over three years since I threw him out of my life. And I’ve had relationships after that.
Maybe it is because I’ve never been able to rationalize that period. Never been able to come to terms with the fact that it happened. When I ask myself what I could have done to prevent it….could I have not gone for the college festival that day? But I was there to meet a friend, who just didn’t turn up on time. Could I have ignored the stranger who approached me, took me around his campus and then asked me out for coffee? Yes, I could have. But how many people do I shut out?
Towards the end, could I have behaved differently in the relationship? I certainly could have. I’ve never put my complete trust in anybody after that. Which is also another way to say I’ve learnt to ration my caring. It makes it easier to break up after that.
Speaking of which, I learnt the difficult lesson of breaking up from him. Though he wasn’t my first relationship, he is the first one I consciously, willingly, wilfully cut out of my life. It was a bitter lesson to learn and perhaps I couldn’t have learnt it any easier than that. Sometimes I wonder if it was a lesson worth learning. And then I look at the relationships that came after that. Nice men, intelligent men (but he seemed nice and intelligent too) who might have turned out to be monsters like he did, had I not ended it before they did.
It makes me feel like a coward. I don’t anymore believe in ‘sticking it out and making things work’. Or at least, I do but I am just too scared to do it anymore. I hate the fact that he continues to have such an impact on my life. He is like a constant thorn in my side, reminding me always of how the world can bleed you if you give them a chance.
Of all my numerous relationships, only two continue to dictate my behaviour and attitude. Love and hate. I can’t get over loving him and hence love will never be far from my life. And I can’t get over hating him so hatred will stay too.