26th March, 2015 .
I have finally decided to let myself be free of this misery. Crying is an everyday ordeal now, the fruit of which is increased remorse. I tried my best to make you mine, but somehow, I feel that my conviction faltered midway, for I never could. Even though you told me that you loved me, you could never be mine. Maybe my love was never pure.
So, it’s time I gave up. Hope is a gamble. And I don’t possess enough strength to gamble anymore. All my might vanished on the day you had walked away. I must commend your determination; you never gave up on your belief that we never had a future together, and now, I’m gone, and I’ve noticed it too, that you’ve decided to get on with your life, and you’re happy.
Goodbye, my love.
28th April, 2015.
My eyes are blurry. Eyes that are about to burst into tears don’t go very well with rooms filled with smoke. I’m hoping I’ve moved on as well. Lithium, Cannabis, and Nicotine have become my best mates. When I’m with them, I don’t miss you as immensely as I did before. They ease my pain and help me get on my feet again. People see me smoking, and they tell me that I’ve become an addict. What they don’t know is that I have been an addict for a long time. Earlier, it was you. Now, a cigarette. Anyway, I just felt the need to tell you that I’m getting along with my life pretty well. I hope you are too.
Goodbye, my love.
20th July, 2015.
I notice that you’ve changed your WhatsApp profile picture to the photograph of a list of things that have made your life happening. Believe me love, I’m glad for you. My cigarette slips out of my fingers and drops on the floor, as my red eyes behold it. My eyes are moist, which I’m sure must be out of sheer ecstasy, but I just wonder if I am a part of that list anymore. Alas, I am not. But disappointment isn’t one of my traits, my dear. I’m pretty sure my new buddy will handle my situation pretty well. She’s been my support through all these hard times. People call her Cocaine. Don’t you worry, love. She’ll take care of everything. I hope you stay happy.
Goodbye, my love.
4th October, 2015.
For reasons unknown, I feel this sudden urge to talk to you. Your birthday is just four days away, and I haven’t forgotten to prepare your gift. But it’s hard to swallow the fact that you forgot that it’s my birthday today. I look for my phone, but I can’t seem to find it. I want to tell you how much I’m missing you today. In moments of dire need, my supposed best mates have seemed to betray me. I feel queasy and giddiness engulfs me. My feeble knees begin to shake, and I can’t gather the strength to even break this state of inertia. But don’t worry, love. If I need to talk to you, I’ll do it. Somehow, I get up from the chair, and in this somber room filled with dark secrets and horrid memories, the tip of a burning joint is the only source of light. I use it to manifest my way to you. I want to get to you, love, but my legs won’t go forth a single inch. It feels like the burning joint is stopping me.
“I thought you were my friend, Cannabis. Let me go,” I scream.
I still can’t move. It’s getting a little scary now, love. I want to talk to you. I need to. As my eyes are losing control inside the inferno like hallucination the burning tip is producing, I feel like it’s the last time I’ll ever get to see you, if I can do it at all. I wish you hear me, and come running towards me. My thoughts are lost in the surreality of my subliminal psychology. I’m sweating a lot suddenly. Fear is engulfing me, love. Help me!
One hour later…
My eyes roll over, and I fall flat on my face on the floor. My heart starts to sink, and my head will burst in a while. The joint, still held tightly between my fingers, is secure and burning. I want to see you, love. The only solace I have in this situation is the voice of Adam Young singing Vanilla Twilight as these lyrics keep rambling in my head, “Oh if my voice could reach back to the past, I’d whisper in your ear, ‘Oh Darling I wish you were here!`”
But for the last two minutes, everything seems so serene. I feel like I’m in a different dimension of space and time altogether. I don’t want to stay in this cesspool of life anymore. I ask the Lord to allow me to exit this worldly combination of flesh and bones. My heart has stopped sinking, and my head doesn’t ache anymore. I figure that it’s time to go, love. I hope you’ll stay happy forever, and maybe one day, when our dimensions collide, I’ll be able to see you. I’m feeling even lighter when I’m thinking about you. This feels much better, love! Just bid me adieu, and I shall take my leave.
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