You don't understand. You don't know. I have loved him even before life met his eyes. And I'll love him even after life would seep out of mine. He doesn't understand. He doesn't know. That the world moved but i was here all along.
A brightwin fanfic...
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Anyways, guess who's back again..👀
....
And that was it. Aunt Irin's words, as always, made sense at some point of time. I took shelter in the reassuring promise she demanded of me. That walking away will heal me. I dreaded becoming the kind of people who had hurt Win in the past. We were not meant to be together anyway. After our emotional explosion, Win had to leave my place. And i made sure to not let him in again. I hoped he knew it was killing me to do it, but better to be dead than be a jerk to someone i had cherished all my life. My feelings for him far, far exceeded moderation. It was perhaps never moderate. But this wildness would have slowly eaten me up had i not tamed it in time.
I had to let Win go. It was the only way to not lose every ounce of respect i had for myself. And to preserve in a happy memory, every ounce of love we had for each other. It was a dark humour, really. Twenty four years of immovable togetherness crumbled over a text I sent to him not long after that day i asked him to leave. I said not much, except that it was time i took some time. I wished he didn't think of it as a childish revenge of mine. I believed he didn't, for our understanding of each other went deeper than that. I also confessed to him about the anxiety attacks i got in the park a year and a half ago (when I met Adam) and the others that followed later. And warned him to not ever blame himself for those things, simply because it was not really his fault. Yes, there were things i said to him in the heat. But aren't these things we humans are infamous for? Saying things we don't mean..hiding what we truly mean. What a shame..it ended us in a place like that.
But now that we ended up like that, it was impossible to turn away. I was not going back to Win. He was kind enough to walk away too, understanding that it would have hurt me more if he stayed back while our wounds were fresh and open and yet to heal. For first few weeks, i stayed in bed, reckoning no concept of time and space, waiting for apocalypse to shake the sky and fall on me, so i didn't have to wake up at all. It hurt to open my eyes and not see Win's laughing brown eyes on me. It hurt to exist without having his soft fingers caress my skin. It just hurt. And staying in bed didn't make it better but then, there was nothing that could.
That was until of course, mom got tired of waiting for me to get ready to call her and talk about it.
One day, she just showed up at my apartment, scrunching her nose as the dead, stale air swooned outside from the darkness of my haunted abode. We were never too friendly with each other to order around and obeying. But just the fact that she took a week off and visited me because she was worried filled me with guilt and sadness and a comfort. It seemed too selfish to let her efforts go in vain. So i did not resist her when she started cleaning around, opening the windows, washing my clothes, trimming my hair, cooking me a very salty dinner (her revival excuse was that my blood pressure was low), basically bringing (or atleast trying) the spirit of the place back. It took us the whole day and i did not deny when she said i must be feeling a lot better. I did.
