Scrambled Tales

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"You guys ain't together anymore?"

"Don't tell me you guys broke up?"

"It was going to happen, we saw this coming."

"You two don't really make a good one anyway."

"He was toxic,"

"You guys were GOALS."

"You must be feeling terrible."

And she was.

She was broken.

She was lost.

She shattered with her pieces scattered all around and nowhere to be found.

Tragedies of breaking your heart so early in life, it's not only your heart that was broken.

It was your self-esteem ruined.

Your dreams busted.

And all the plans you made once were just crushed down.

And it's not a relationship of just a few months.

For Mishkhat Khawar and Hamza Sayyed had a love tale of quite long years.

At thirteen, she first saw him at the school auditorium.

At fourteen, she saw him walking through the book alleys of the library.

At fifteen, she was his lover.

At sixteen, she was his pillar.

At eighteen, she was his frustration cabin.

Not a good day, scream at Mishkhat!

Not a good paper, scream at Mishkhat!

Not a good practical, scream at Mishkhat!

And Mishkhat Khawar had bear it all, without a single complaint.

For she was in love with him.

And now when she thinks about it, she laughs at that stupid girl.

Being in love is okay, but blind love is not. Hers was the latter kind.

"You just left after that." Hamza's voice brings her back to the present from her wonderland.

The steaming cup of chai in her hand gave her some essence of warmth in the whole day in his home.

His home never fit into her definition of comfort.
Never will.

"After our break up?" She asked with a raised brow as she saw him leaning to the bannister of the terrace.

He nodded, she didn't miss the pang of regret floating in his dark onyx eyes.

She shook her head and said, "I couldn't stay here anymore. The people around us made it overbearing for me."