“Oh! I love him so much. I just hate him a little more…!”
“I believe, no matter what is your present equation with him, if you really miss him and want him back in your life, you should go ahead and talk to him. If he agrees to return, well and good and if he says he’s over you, then that’s fine. At least you’ll get a clear idea where you both stand. And years later, you won’t regret that you wanted him but you didn’t tell him that.”
“I loved him. I miss him, I always am thinking about him and feel him around me and sometimes I so want to pick the phone and make that call.
But then, when I realize that he dumped me for some other woman, I begin to hate him. I feel like what’s the point of making the call and disturbing him? He must be happy with his woman – hanging out, chilling, shopping, making love and that thought stops me from making that call.
Innumerable times I’ve picked up the phone and dialed his number but cut the call before it got connected. Typed out long messages about how I miss him and how much I still love him but deleted the message instead of sending it to him.
Because, technically he is happy in his life and that is what matters the most to me. Even if I am not a part of his happiness.
It’s torture actually to live without him. Every time I watch a movie, I begin to think of him. I visualize him and myself in place of the lead pair and embark on a journey of thoughts that take me all over the world with him accompanying me and sometimes my thoughts take me all over him too.
Nicholas Sparks has always been my most favourite author. Reading his work has become impossible for me now because I see him in the protagonist and I want him around me, supporting me, caring for me, loving me like Landon does for Jamie even after knowing about her health. I want someone who stays, not someone who strays.
I want someone whom I can rely upon, not someone who’d abandon me for any random woman.”
“Ouch. You really seem to be hurt.”
“That is an under statement. I could say I was addicted to him and I always wanted him around me. Forever. We had built castles in air and often spoke about settling down together…
But he being a practical and an unemotional jerk, he could simply walk away as if I meant nothing to him.
That is why I say, I love him, but I hate him a little more.”
“Do you really hate him?”
“Yes, I do. And this hatred is what keeps me going. It is kind of therapeutic. And I sometimes laugh at him. He used to think that I’m very dependent on him and that I’d get destroyed without him and he always used to tell me that I should be stronger. To be frank, back then, even I had believed that I was very dependent on him. But, not anymore. If he hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have known what I was capable of. Now that I know I can live without him and funnily enough without getting shattered, I don’t even want to see his face anymore!”
“I’m glad that you’re coping well..”
*If only you knew that he had deliberately let go of you.
If only you knew that he loved you much more than you can even imagine.
If only you knew that I joined that stupid course of yours and became your friend only upon his insistence – to look after you and to take care of you.
If only you knew that you will never see his face. While he needed you when he was breathing his last, he was worried about you and your well-being.
If only you knew that I hated him when he had nothing but you to talk about and hated him much more for loving you.
You know what? I hate him so much. I just love him a little more.*