Memoir || Saudamini (OS)

memories.

    BOOM!

     An uncomfortably loud thunder took me out from a bittersweet dream. I gulped and took a look outside the window. Outside, there was a thunderstorm, and the gusts were so strong that they looked capable of carrying a grown man away with them. The rains seemed to be the heaviest of the season, pouring with such fury that I could hear them sitting in this room, clearly. The thunder's brightness shone on my window, and after a candle flickered, I heard an ear-splitting thunder, as if nature was screaming.

     It seemed like it was telling me to let my emotions out, embrace them, accept them and experience them. I knew that numbing the pain wouldn't make it less painful; It will make it even more painful for me. But, I wasn't brave; I was never brave. I was a coward; A coward who lacks the courage to face her emotions. I have always told people big things about facing your reality, your feelings and loving yourself. But, Was I following those things? I wasn't. That's the reason I hate myself to the core. I hate how cowardly I have become. I hate how I still can't accept the reality.

     I am conflicted between my heart and my brain. My heart stills mourns over the same thing, still rewrites the whole thing again; living in a fantasy world, still refuses to accept that he was never mine. It still loves him. My brain scolding me, despising me, forcing me that I am not feeling those emotions; I am not feeling that. It was lying to me, saying I had moved on but the truth was I didn't, I didn't move on. I was still in love with the boy.

     What if I was not strong enough to face the truth? What if I don't move on at all? What If I never find love?

     These questions were the reason I didn't confront myself. I was just too scared.

     I wish I hadn't fallen for him.

     I missed the old me, desperately. The 14-year-old Saudamini, who was actually happy. I missed the time when my emotions were as simple as my heart.

     But, 'time never waits for anyone'. I took these words way too lightly.

     I vividly remember the day I bought my first diary. I used to write everything in it; my best moments to my worst nightmares. Nightmares. I let out a low laugh with tears pricking in my eyes. I used to think that my life was hell at that time. But, it was definitely 1000 times better than what it is now.

     Most of my childhood memories are blurred. I only remember some of them, most of them were with him. It would be so great if I were able to see my adolescence again. But, again, that was impossible. My fantasies, again. I was a whole different person when I was 14. I was now smiling faintly, reminiscing the good old days.

     Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. My Diary. Yes, My Diary. Have I lost it?

     I got up from the warm and cosy bed and started looking for the diary. I roamed place to place in the whole room, in order to find the diary. But, there was only one place I didn't look for, The Box.

     I couldn't pluck up the courage to open the box but, if I wanted to read my diary, I had to. If not for the diary, at least for myself, I had to face it. Not tomorrow. Not Today. But, Now. I don't care about the correct time. I had to show some courage, though, I was cowardly. I have always envied the courageous. If not now, I couldn't face it for the rest of my life.

     I started taking slow steps towards the corner, where a box was kept. It was a cerulean box with a golden lock. It was unevenly painted from which it clearly looked hand-painted. I painted it by myself in his favourite colour blue. He didn't believe in 'blue is for boys'. The colour rather made him feel calm.