You know it’s over when you swoon over a man but realise, at the same time, he isn’t the one you were looking for
How to get over a bad break-up
I stood there, looking blankly at the boy – dressed in a loose maroon shirt and faded blue jeans –
walking away from me, unable to believe what had happened. I saw for the final time his deliciously curly brown hair that I loved messing and the strong arms that always made me feel so secure. As he walked, I saw a heart-breaking collage of all the wonderful times we spent together, the laughs, the chats and the hugs. Eyes brimming with tears, I saw everything smash to smithereens right in front of me.
Next move, Google search, Bad Break-Up!
Seven tips on how to survive a bad break-up, 10 truths to help you get over the hump, how to get over a bad break-up and not let it affect you, Is it time to see other people? Seriously? It is funny how there is a cure for almost everything in this world except a ruining, tarnishing and sullying break-up. But who am I kidding, trying to find a solution on Google? If I were to believe the Internet or even American movies, I should be snivelling in my fluffy bed by now, eating a tub of chocolate ice cream with a cherry-nose.
But I am definitely suffering from the after effects of a break-up, I am indignant and I feel sore and miffed. I am angry and I have a wide range of feelings swelling inside me that I don’t want to confront. One part of me wants to go and punch him right on that perfectly shaped nose and say, “You will not get anyone like me. EVER.” But I am scared he might end up giving me the classic, “That’s the point” answer. But the larger part of me wants him back; I miss his support, his kind heart and his protective nature.
I am again down in the dumps, as these thoughts start disconcerting my head. I need a reason for living and then I do something
that was engraved in the rule books centuries ago. I stalk his Facebook profile. Day in and day out; till I am sure he isn’t dating anyone, YET.
My supposed friends start getting very worried about my well-being and they constantly, earnestly, try harder and harder to make my life more difficult. And when I reach the apex, and when I think that my life can’t get any worse, BAM! I see his photo with a sizzling hot half-American chick who, I hear, says “dikkat” very cutely.
But a bad relationship is a failure. It’s a failure of understanding and compassion. And I choose to not fail, I choose to try again, I choose to at least imbibe a cure for the future, if not solve the problem right now. With new zeal, I ask him to meet me one last time. Excited, but also fearful, my feelings are difficult to define. He agrees. Almost mystically, I see myself asking him to meet me at the same place we parted. He says he will reach there in “10”. Exhaling an ounce of carbon dioxide, I run. I had only read, but now, I feel for the first time, what is called an adrenaline rush. I watch him walk towards me; he manages to curl his lips into a warm smile. I sigh. Nothing has changed in these five weeks.
We begin talking. A heartfelt conversation follows. We make each other realise the different things we want out of our lives, how different our growth has been in the span of these two years, how different our priorities have become. I see the mushy love we had evolve and ripen into a deep and mature friendship. He gets up again to walk away. Again, I stand there and watch him go. He still has the deliciously curly hair and the strong arms I crave. But this time, the heart-breaking collage is replaced by a grateful heart. This time when I a watch him go, I sense inner satisfaction. The feeling of agitation is gone. I feel fulfiled, serene and complete.
Talking didn’t get us back together but it made me believe in the power of togetherness because this time as he walked away, he turned around to wave goodbye, and in the magic of that moment, I was free.
Know the Writer
Name: Apekshita, 18
Occupation: First year student of Mass Communication
Favourite Brunch story: The ROFL issue
Your shoot with us was... Amazing. I felt like a model
How real is your piece? It’s very real. I went through it when I was 16 years old
Why did you want to write to us?
I am an avid reader of Brunch and I love it. Also, my professor was egging me to submit something
From HT Brunch, February 3
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