Hiraeth
The pattern of life is very different. Love resides in every pattern. Every pattern flares with different shades, gray spreads against my heart this time. All this time my heart was blue, but suddenly those strings of thoughts loosened and I felt getting smeared with the color gray
Walking on the street, my limbs fell out of their strength as I sat on the concrete ground. My unfocused eyes wandered around. I breathed heavily
Flashback
"Javi yes,"
I answered the phone and his ragged breaths I heard, an echo of an extremely satisfactory sigh was heard,
"Hiraeth when are you coming back, how was the interview? Were you uncomfortable, do I need to come love?" his voice was extremely sped up, as if the words weren't stuck in his stomach and he couldn't control anymore and spilled everything. The voice was so happy, so giddy, so much pleasant to hear.
"Yes, Javi, I am coming now. Don't worry. No no, you don't need to come, my company has given me a car today. Can you believe it, Javi? Yes, you can tell me what Nicholas said to make you this excited. Why are you so happy?"
"Hiraeth, I got the Job in Milan. I am the Head content writer of their new advertisement branch, I get to lead all the projects and all, it is my affirmative decision they need, and I get to do all those pig project sign-ups. Can you believe it? I am so happy, Hiraeth. Are you listening"
I nodded even though he couldn't see. I felt everything falling apart again. I felt my heart sink. I could feel Tristan's eyes on me. I can't look at him
"Yeah, yeah Javi."
"Hiraeth, I am at the top of the world today. I am so happy that I can't even describe it. Words aren't enough to express my pleasure today. Hiraeth, we are going to Milan. Hiraeth Marry me"
"Look Hiraeth..i..i…I know you. I mean our understanding might be affected but I couldn't just control myself from doing what my heart wants. And it wants certainty and sincerity of my self towards you…
A tear fell from my eyes as he kept saying
"Because every long lost road, led me to where you are; others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars, guiding me on my way, into your loving arms, this much I know is true. God bless the broken road that led me straight to you. Would you be mine?"
He finally said it after taking a lot of heavy breaths in between and shuttering a millionth time.
"i…I am so…sorry maybe I could never take that place in your heart as he does but I don't even want that. I j…just want to create my place in your heart maybe in less proportion than his but I will be satisfied…I can't make you fall in love with me any deeper than his but I can promise that you would have me when you need someone falling in love with you…h...he was never there b. but I was the...there always. When you fell in love with him, when you knew you fell badly and very extremely with him and your love knew no limits loving him, when you knew you would never call him yours, when you got heartbroken for that and cried. I was consistent in your.. one-sided love story from first to last… I never stopped loving you hearing how much you love him. I never left your hands because I held them for a purpose and that is to keep you safe forever. i…I am sorry you might think I am bragging about myself…b..but..it's just that I wanted to confess to you even if you say no because confession is also a feeling. I can handle myself if you reject the problem and I can try my best to pretend that nothing happened between us other than friendship. But remember he is your first but I can be yours forever whenever you want. I just freaking…love you. Marry me and come with me to Milan. We will start afresh. Let's just go far away and live a good life. I swear I will try my best to provide you with everything you love, all of our problems will vanish. We will buy a beach house. This was your dream, right? I am sorry for blabbering so much, but think about it, I should have said it while standing in front of you, but I couldn't control it. My shift will start next week."
FLASHBACK ENDED
I felt nothing, it just stopped feeling. My heart just fucking stopped. It is not reacting at all. There is no pain, no joy, no nothing.
I saw a car coming towards me I wanted it to hit me.
The words Tristan said revolved around my brain. My brain was clogged by his words. Clear firm words of his innocence. I was wrong from the very first, he never made a mistake, he never broke his boundaries, he never broke his promises, and he never crossed his limits, I was the one who assumed every single thing, I was the one who left him just like some cruel pathetic monster. I was the one who even doubted him so many times, but he came clean, I was the one who ruined every single thing, had I not run away to Boston, I would have been with him because he had said he would try for us, he would have handled us, I came to Boston and now I am destroying Javi's whole life. I am destroying two men's lives now
I saw the car's flashlights blinding my eyes within seconds. As I was thrown into someone's petite soft arms. I hurriedly looked to my side as I saw a big chunky-eyed Jaycee with extreme worry infiltrating her ragged breaths, her eyes as wide as ever. She was scared. I rested my head on her chest as I cried. I cried in her arms knowing I was safe, her warm hands cradling me as her newborn kid, she caged me. She kept swaying me without asking why I didn't move in the first place. Why was I on the street? She sat on the street with me and held me until I stopped crying.
AN HOUR LATER
"So you don't use any social media?"
I was in her apartment, newly furnished, but not that big. She was on the village side of Boston where mostly it was greenery. She was far away from the main town. Her house has been mostly decorated with wooden planks, wooden assessments, and wooden accessories. It was beautiful inside, there was a fireplace too, to keep us warm, her house seemed warm and homely and of freshly baked cookies, though she kept blabbering she couldn't cook, the cookies are made by her mom, who lives in another country, she sends cookies thrice a year to her.
She was on her kitchen counter working on her coffee machine, to make us some coffee I guess. Or maybe it was only for her. I have never visited any of my friends' houses, I was too young to get permission and then my adulthood was all about working, getting expenses done, doing accounts to not let myself starve and again spending a ton of money in rent, the first apartment I got was shabby and small with one bedroom and bathroom, no kitchen, no living room, no dining space or table if you consider that, it had less furniture. I couldn't afford furniture kitchen appliances or any refrigerator. My adulthood was mainly studying and handling my study expenses and then paying rent and eating something so that I could survive the night. This is how time went. And honestly, I am glad.
My mind thinks way too much to even start with. I am happy being extremely busy and tired, I am happy being extremely tired and venting out because, otherwise my thoughts eat me up alive, tears won't stop or I will get panic attacks in the middle of the night.
"No, I don't have any social media"
She looked at me confused and then again continued looking at her coffee machine. I was sitting on her couch, it was soft.
I wasn't crying when I came to this house. It is feeling strangely good in her house, a certain someone's house who doesn't judge me.
"How come?"
"The thing was once when I was around 19, 20. I was always active on Facebook, Instagram, Messenger, etc etc. I was always on my phone. I was fascinated by the idea of online talking. You see, I am fond of talking. I was extremely happy with how the social media terms worked, how easily we could make friends and be close to them, and talk to them whenever we wanted. But I forgot to realize not everyone thinks like this, they just didn't care, and called me too excited for a simple thing. They called me so clingy for always leaving a message, sometimes my friends didn't see my messages for days or left them. Later when I asked why they did that, they said they couldn't make time for me, some of them said they were busy with daily schedules and family issues. I started to think, okay let's just not message them more often, so I used to send a few of them daily, but still, those reactions were dry and raw, as if they didn't care about me. When they messaged, maybe a pretty few words or so, I replied within seconds, I replied with bigger texts as if paragraphs. I always wanted to elaborate on my feelings, even my feelings that were hurt. When they wouldn't see my text for so long, the whole day used to pass, and then at night they would come and I would reply like an enthusiastic puppy, humming to its master. I didn't say they were bad friends, for a long time I couldn't consider them as friends, I felt lonely. I felt bad for myself, for always going to approach leaving my self-respect inside my room locked in the cupboard. They never really messaged first. I was the one to always do that. Sometimes they forgot to wish for my birthday, sometimes I used to get to know others who were bad-mouthing me for being very clingy. Maybe I was. Maybe I was very irritated, but I still think so. It's just that I always wanted to be taken care of. But nobody did it. Nobody cared about me. I was always available on social media, so if anybody messaged me, I could answer. I don't know, I used to think that even if I didn't reply quickly, they would leave me. I was paranoid about everything in life at one point. But eventually after my millions of efforts, I had to ask for friendships, for a friend to hold me, to talk to me. But they wouldn't. Suppose you are sad right now and you need to talk to someone, so you message them, but at the moment that person is not active on Messenger. They reply to you at night when you are stable and you reply with a hurtful heart saying, no it's fine. It was nothing. The grieves clog in your heart and you can't let it out. Suddenly everything starts blurring out in your vision. The memories can't escape because you can't even talk, suddenly the voices are yelling in your head saying, nobody wants you, if they wanted you, they would have shown effort, and they would have talked with you. You know these voices expand in your head, it heaves up and down, telling you that you are being available, you are someone easily found in hand, you are not approachable and people like challenges, people don't like clingy people like you, because you are always available. Suddenly those media started making me feel suffocated but I was addicted to it. I started to question if my friends were in the same class as me, they must have the same study. If I can make time for them, why can't they? Sometimes I talked about something, and they responded and again I texted a large paragraph and in the middle of the conversation that person vanished, suddenly they weren't on the net during the mid-convo. I started getting scared to even tell a story. I started to write so fast that they at least read it. I made myself so petty, that I couldn't look at myself. But my brother used to say you need friends to survive. But all my life I didn't have any friends. It was getting so hard to continue with people, then again, when I used to leave people on their own, the voices in my head would return. They used to say, why did you break your friendship? It was your fault, you were clingy. Finally, when I had no one left to talk to, I deleted every account and sold the old phone. I got a good amount of money. That night I ate a full plate of chicken fried rice with an empty heart knowing friends weren't in my destiny. I bought a button phone and started to work on myself again. It didn't work. I was always depressed thinking about how my friends would be, I missed them, and I still do. I still remember those memories. I used to cry every night, my brain used to clog and I would try to end my life anyhow. I was terrified of living. I completed my university life without any friends as well. Then when I was doing my PhD, those posh kids used to go to clubs and parties. I used to work the late night shift of seven eleven. I was good with life because I didn't need to think about how I would survive, I just needed to think about how to end a day, then another, and then another. You know I prayed to god every night to make me the busiest person in the world. So that I don't get sad unnecessarily. But I do. My depression doesn't leave my body"
I said so much, oh god. She might be irritated. She kept listening to me and I didn't notice she already came with two coffee mugs in her hands, she placed the coffee on the tea table. She hugged me saying
"You are not irritating, I am sorry that you felt so lonely in this world and nobody was there to hold you. You are so sweet, so admirable, people are bound to be fond of you, and you talk so gently as if you were reading one of your books. Those people aren't worth it, I know depression doesn't leave the skin, it remains as scars, but scars dry out, you will see that after a few years, you won't remember anything, you will be fine and breathe perfectly laughing at those pricks who didn't make you their friend, you are a great friend. The sun will rise, how many days will the rain fall upon us right?"
I smiled and nodded and hugged her back. I wish I could trust her. I can't. Maybe my heart doesn't function to trust anyone. I can't be anyone's friend. She is sweet. I want to be her friend, but I am unworthy. She will also be irritated with my rants, this is just the first day. I will ruin everything one day. Aren't I?
She gave me a cup of coffee and she took it herself. She sipped on the coffee and grimaced, saying
"How can I make this bad coffee?"
I laughed, maybe laughing after ages.
She also laughed, she was pretty, like a white lily. She was easy to be with, she didn't react, and she kept listening with deep eyes. Maybe she wasn't understanding or maybe she was understanding more than me, but she didn't utter a single word saying she was tired, she needed to sleep. But the more I said, the more she was sleepy, her eyes drooled close. And I couldn't finish the story of Jessica. How come she became so close to me that I was sharing the story of Jessica, an old friend of mine? She was easy to talk with. She didn't ask me about Javi Tristan or my book. She just listened to my childhood and I was relieved to share so much about my past. I felt empty, but it felt good. I felt light. I took out a blanket from her bedroom, it was lying on the bed. I wrapped myself around her. As I left her house tiptoed. I pray that if I ever meet her, I will be fine, not this traumatized, not this depressed.
I still needed her to hear my side of the story. I wish I could be a better friend. But maybe I won't ever be that friend. It's the fault of my stars.