I knew the destiny of “us.” We were never meant to be. The heavy doses of my nurtured self- respect and his ego were a fatal combination. I was the ascetic one with adequate proportions of facile emotions while he was the charismatic sadist. He was unaware of his ability to hurt me even without me realizing that I was giving him the permission to do so. He never knew of my feelings.The love was deep but I tried to provoke the hatred for him in me. The hatred itself reprimanded me of this manipulation I sought. Emotions were deep enough to create us but sharp enough to tear us apart. Even then, the fire of love and flames of hatred emerged the victor. They never really let me leave. Instead they forced me further into this vacillation.Both he and I were the two ends of a rope that was tearing apart, each strand taking its turn in obedience and helplessness, to tear and separate.The wait is a struggle indeed and the last strand will take a little longer and will leave “us” tarnished.Slowly but surely, I was aware of this need for him to leave my mind, my soul and from every vein and drop of blood in me, just the way life extracts itself from the dying body and the pain of which will leave me hurt for a reason strange to me as well.
Copyrights@ 2015 Elsa Thomas.