Unrequited Love Version 2.0

My story began about 6 months back. I had quit my job at HP and was preparing for some competitive exams. One day I noticed a text from my old friend. She used to be so nice to me in college and I did her a lot of favors. She was a noob with computers so I helped her out a lot in those days.  This was back when we were in college and well, that was about 2 years ago.  All this time, I had only thought of her as a friend but seeing her text after all those days. created a sort of  longing. Its difficult to put it into words. But I guess I sort of missed her and suddenly I was flooded with memories of her. Images, thoughts, memories, just kept coming. I was a bit alarmed at first because I have never been an emotional guy. And I could not really understand what was wrong with me. This sudden flow of emotions felt weird, alien. I had never been interested in developing a relationship with any girl, before. Relationships appeared complicated and I didn’t really understand them or even try to. I didn’t want for this to happen to me. I didn’t want to get involved with love. But it just happened to me as if I had no control. I guess that is why they call it falling in love. Why did this one person suddenly matter so much among all the other girls I’ve been familiar with? I couldn’t understand, I couldn’t rationalize my emotions, couldn’t rationalize love, my thoughts were in disarray. So I did the one thing that all my friends advised me not to do. I called her up and I blabbed about how I felt about her, like an idiot. I thought at that time, that clever as I was, I would be able to get over her quickly and this would perhaps give me some closure. I guess I sort of alarmed her, springing it on her like that, but at that time I felt that she was really important and I was scared of losing her, too. I thought I could get out and under before I became too emotionally involved. Still, love is looked down upon poorly in my culture and so I gave her enough time to think about it but at the end of the day, she texted me saying that she had thought of me only as a friend, nothing more and that she was sorry. I wallowed in self pity for a while. Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I had hoped that at-least she’d give me an explanation of why I wasn’t good enough for her. I wanted a reason. I couldn’t understand why she rejected me, why she avoided me whenever she came online. I wrote her a couple of emails explaining how much she meant to me, begging her in-fact at the cost of my self respect to reconsider; but she just ended up blocking me on facebook. She started ignoring my calls and my texts and emails. I still wonder if what I did was wrong every day. No, I know it was wrong. What I feel is regret. But I was like in love with her and I would have done anything for her acknowledgement, her approval. It seemed so enormously important at that time. I think I had pestered her so much that she ended up hating me, perhaps. But she can’t really hate me as much as I hate myself for having done what I did. Once, I even texted her asking her if we could still be friends but she replied that she couldn’t after all these incidents. She wanted to cut me out of her life completely. I guess I kind of had it coming.

Over the years I had made a few enemies in college. Some, like me have let go of their egos and we remain friends to this day. But after falling in love, I guess I made myself more vulnerable. I thought, why should there be any enmity between people who have been friends. So I sent emails to some of the people I had wronged in my life seeking forgiveness. All the replies I received were kind. All except one. Back in college, this one guy and me, we were the smartest guys in our class. But as time passed we managed to step on each others’ toes and sort of drifted apart. And his reply to my email asking for forgiveness was… cruel, to say the least. He thanked me for being able to say that I was sorry but that he could not forgive me. And he pointed out to me that I was a cripple which unfortunately, I am. It has been something that I have always been trying to hide, trying to ignore in-spite of having to face it, deal with every day. From my friends, my own family. It was at the core of my very existence. I have muscular dystrophy and have always managed to hide it pretty well. Only my family and closest friends know that I have this disease. My friends say that I have always been touchy about my disease and didn’t want to even talk about it. I guess you guys can understand why, right? I am very conscious about this disease and have always thought that I was inferior to others because of it. But to have it shoved in front of me when I was really vulnerable, at that time was really cruel. I couldn’t have imagined a better punishment for all my sins. Maybe it was karma. At that moment, I thought I realized why my crush had rejected me. Maybe she thought I was not good enough for her because I had muscular dystrophy. And with this thought in my mind, I took a bottle of my grandmother’s heart medication. I remember taking around 40 different coloured  capsules and the last feeling I experienced as I drifted into unconsciousness that day was regret that I’d never see my crush again. When I woke up again I was in the hospital with a tube shoved down one of my nostrils. Nurses and doctors were looking at me, anger in some of their eyes. Suicide is not looked at with understanding in my culture and is considered dishonorable and cowardly. All the more so because I was a guy. I couldn’t bear to look anyone in the eye. I couldn’t tell my parents, the hospital psychiatric counselor or anybody the reason I downed those pills but my dad looked through my emails and found out. I felt ashamed. I even considered biting the glucose drip or whatever they were feeding me intravenously and blowing some air into it but the nurses were always there, watching me. I was on suicide watch.  After being discharged from the hospital, I couldn’t bear coming out of my room. I couldn’t bear to look my parents in the eye. I tried to imagine what my parents where going through. Having to see your only child crippled for life is bad enough but having to see him miserable as well, everyday, would have been any parent’s nightmare. My room had been cleared of everything sharp, pills or anything I could hurt myself with. And my parents sort of kept on with the suicide watch for a while. I stayed cooped up for days. Everyday I hated my miserable existence. I was not even allowed to leave the house. After a while, my parents calmed down a bit and let me be by myself for longer periods of time.  I went to see a psychiatrist on my own and was diagnosed with ADHD and Borderline Personality Disorder.  I googled the medication I was prescribed and I found out that they were anti-psychotic medication and SNRIs. So that meant that I was not right in the body or the head. My feelings of depression and unworthiness increased. This was the lowest point of my life. I really felt like I was a waste of space, an evolutionary dead end, a waste of resources. I tried to stay on the medication for a while but it just made me stupid and sleepy so I resorted to more cruder means. Back in college I used to cut myself to keep focused. I started cutting myself again to sort of control my emotions and started exercising. I felt that if I got tired enough, I wouldn’t have much time to think.  My computer, the internet and games were the only entertainment I had. But ultimately what saved me were my friends. They understood that something was up and that I was moody and depressed just through my chats. These guys were from my school and we never did a lot of talking up until now but they hung out with me, getting drunk with me late into the nights, talking about life, philosophy, God, love and shit. And most even told me their own love stories, their own secrets. It was amazing because up until that one moment I thought I was the only one who got his heart broken. It felt good to finally belong to the same crowd of guys who’d been through, if not all, at-least some of the crazy shit that I did. One of them had even tried to off himself by ramming into a truck with a motorcycle after breaking up with his lover. Crazy, right? I finally realized that I had been living in a box all these years. Not knowing who my real friends were. If there is one thing that I have learned from all this, it is that I should always be there for my friends as they were for me. We didn’t really keep discussing my problems unless we were drunk but just being with these guys, seemed enough really. I really owe my life to these guys. Two weeks back, I received  a job offer from ISRO, one of the most prestigious scientific institutions in my country. Things are finally looking up.

I still have unpleasant lingering thoughts on my mind, painful ones. Sometimes I tend to do weird stuff like calculating how long it would take me to hit the ground if I jumped off of the nearest bridge. Which position should I hold my neck at so that its most likely to break, how much force that would require. Weird stuff, like I said. So yes, suicidal thoughts. I get them during the nights, whenever I am lonely and have nothing better to do.  So whats holding me back? I guess its because I want to do something worthwhile. I feel this need to accomplish something. I want to leave my mark on the world, maybe. After all, isn’t that what everyone wants?

I still hope that one day my crush will talk to me again. Give me a better reason to want to live. I know its foolish, but I can’t help but cling to that hope. Even if I were to die, I’d die happier knowing that some part of her cares. That some part of her paid attention to me. I sometimes even dream about her. And even in my dreams she tends to avoid me, she hides her face. I still think about her everyday. Everyday.  I think about conversations we had, of the times when she felt safe enough to cry on the phone with me, the time I drunk-mailed her, all the chats I had with her, all the petty fights. Did I commit some untold sin by falling in love with a friend? Why is she so intent on avoiding me when she knows more about me than anyone else? Am I not good enough? Is it caste? Is it because I’m jobless and she’s working? Her parents’ approval? Money?

The only thing that drives me to keep loving her is that I know that she will be far happier with me than with any other person. I wish, hope and pray everyday that she’d see me for what I am and understand how much I care about her. I see her in my Gtalk everyday, while she is online on her android mobile, her status always idle, wishing that she’d see me and chat with me just like old times. I wonder how long it will be until she blocks me in Gmail as well.

My friends keep telling me she isn’t worth it but I can’t for the life of me learn to let go of her. ‘What do I really want from her?’ A part of me asks, sometimes, exasperated, as once again my thoughts drift towards her. And another part of me answers, ‘Nothing much, really. A few kind words, a smile perhaps?’ Just once. It would be enough.