Looking at You

16

Scarlet letter

The next morning, I suddenly opened my eyes still lying on the bed, the sweat trickles down my neck, and I was thirsty. I realized I was literally sandwiched between the sleeping bodies of my aunt and my sister. Still lying and not moving my body, I moved my hands slowly across the crumpled bedsheet and searched for my phone under the pillow. Found it! The bright screen light hit my eyes, blinding me. I rubbed my hand over my face to clear my eyes.

I couldn't control my temptation to open the WhatsApp and check if I got any response from Sankalp. There had still been no message from him, no response to my barrage of call and text.

"He definitely thought you were drunk!" a sleepy voice murmured in my head.

"what should I do about it?" I frowned as I asked quizzically.

I heard another voice of my loud and clear, "forget about it! And ignore it."

The evil voice scoffed in disbelief, "No! Not so easily."

"Write him a letter, explain everything .... You have nothing to lose, and all you got are words... Use it."

I took a long, deep breath and started typing, tentatively at first, but then with more conviction, my fingers flying over the keypad of my phone. My morning tea was getting cold beside me as the words poured of my heart out faster and faster.

Then I read through the whole letter, my heart thumping. There it was everything I felt happy and sad at the same time, the most honest thing I'd ever written. I could have seriously published it; it was so lovely to read!

I breathed out a sound that might have been "puff," I then pressed the send button. I stared at the screen on my mobile until it darkened into standby mode.

Then again, I pressed the power button after 7 minutes, it lights up, and there were two lines below the message. I could imagine him reading it and frowning or scoffing and maybe even laughing at my words.

P.S. He is not the sort of person who scoffs or laugh at anyway.

There was a two-minute pause where I could see the ...Typing with white letters under his name (indicating he was typing). Then they disappeared and came back.

The reply contained just a single line message. No time or effort was used. Sankalp: Thank you. You are right; this is wrong. Take care, ending it with a smile emoji. I knew the answer like forever, but it was too painful to acknowledge.

I clicked the reply tab and quickly typed the first response that popped into my mind. I know with two bigger smile emoji.

I couldn't really talk or cry, but I squeezed, hugged myself, digging my nails into my flesh, and one teardrop rolled down my left eye. I tried to make a word out of my mouth, but words wouldn't come out.

In the back deep in my head, there was a gasp, then a soft, sympathetic voice, a tone I'd never heard before, "You broke your heart on a wall of cold stone. How are you going to heal it? You know you are not like everyone, I was trying to save you, and you didn't hear my single word!"

I Can't Make You Love Me a Song by Bonnie Raitt played in my brain.