Amma could detect something is wrong with me. I mean I knew she ultimately would. I was in an off mood for weeks and did not eat properly. I tried to divert my concentration to studying. But I just sat staring into my study texts for hours, not doing anything.
The nights were harder. I could not sleep. I lay staring at the ceiling fan for hours... And it felt like I would never be able to sleep like before ever again. Never...
Amma finally confronted me.
"Come on. Out with it?" She sat down one night after washing dishes.
"What?"
"What is wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing,"
"No. Seriously... Is it Arya?"
Of course, she would catch it.
"It's okay. I am dealing with it."
"Oh, God." She said, "did you guys break up?"
I went silent.
"Oh my god.... Why?"
"Amma, I... I don't want to talk about it."
She stared at me for a long while. "I am going to slap you if it's some stupid reason or a simple misunderstanding that can be solved with just some talking."
I played with my pen.
The truth was I missed Arya. I missed her laughter, talking to her, the feel of her hand in my hand, and our endless texting. I could not stop thinking about her even for a second. And one part of me was now constantly murdering the other half of me for letting things get so far, for hurting her, for being a cheap asshole to her. The other half was still a bloody coward.
"Go apologise to her," Amma said.
"How do you know it is I who need to apologise?" I asked Amma.
"I don't care who needs to apologise. All I want is for my son to learn to set his ego away, and admit that he loves someone enough to apologise first."
Love...
I played with my pen again, not looking into Amma's eyes.
"Think about that," Amma said again and left me with it. That was the thing about Amma. She never pressed me with anything. She let me think about that.
I stayed with these thoughts for a few days. And then things were getting too suffocating. My self-accusations were accumulating. I felt like Arya may be laughing at me now. Laughing at herself that she trusted me. She was hurt by her parents, and I chose to not address it. It was the vilest thing I could have done to her. And I claimed to love her.
She could never have betrayed me. She is not built like that. She is so honest, brave and true to herself. She was incredible all along. I was the one who did not deserve her. I never did deserve her. But I was scared to death to admit that.
The guys tried to help me out. They took me out and brought me alcohol. Alcohol did not help. It just made me feel like calling her or going out to her house. Cling on to her shamelessly. My friends stopped me from doing that. Asif and Sharan. Adi still thought I should speak with her and solve this thing out.
Alcohol made me cry in front of my friends. I cried hugging Asif. He patted my back. It was socially acceptable to cry in this situation. Asif or Sharan did not judge me. They supported me. Adi thought I was pathetic. He said I was crying for no reason. He said all I have to do and go talk to her, and I will find out that she loves me as much as I love her.
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The Boxes We Are Put In
RomansWARNING: The story deals with mental health issues, and self-harming. Arya is dealing with past trauma. Her house is not the most pleasant place either. Nikhil comes from a very happy and protected household. When Arya saves his life, Nikhil falls...