“Do you still love him?”
Biting her lower lip, she seemed doubtful. She was holding her right fist in her left hand, rubbing it. It was a question of the quest for sure. And, seeing her thoughtful made me anxious for the answer.
“Certainly, I do.”
Her answer was an oxymoron to her body language. Well, perhaps that’s what love is.
“Does he still love you? Is he patient enough to wait for your sanity?” I asked.
Her words made her oblivious to the reality. She was never doubtful of her love before. She never had to guess whether he love her or not.
The two questions were a food for thought.
Finding the answer, her conscience pushed her into the past. The past is the place where all of the answers lie. Most of the people think so.
She could recall the day they broke up.
That day, she saw tears in his eyes for the first time, and probably it was the last time too. She handed over the rose he gave to him on their first date. The wilted rose had lost its fragrance, like their relationship. It was tempting how all the metaphors had the same figurative as well as literal meanings. Well, that’s love, isn’t it?
He tried to hold her hand, while she was letting go of his heart. Words are lethal. She tried her best that day, like a nurse, to inject the needle slowly. Anyway, the piercing had to be done. The skin needs to be ruptured. And, it hurts. Like hell.
There are units to measure physical pain, but nothing to measure the mental trauma one has been gone through. Maybe, whatever she did was for a greater good. Who knows!
She decided to leave him, and he let the door open for her.
“I guess there’s some need of trying again.”
She said while uncomfortably gaining her consciousness.
“Are you sure? Is that what you want: to go back to the person who broke you?” Making an eye contact, I asked.
“Certainly, I have to give it another try.”
Her pupils were dilated. She still loves him, and this time it was definite, looking into her eyes.
“If that’s what you want, I guess you wouldn’t have come to a psychologist for a consult or do you?”
Pushing her deep into her mind was succeeding. She was finally getting somewhere.
“Life is cruel, sir. It doesn’t give you second chances. But I guess we should give life the chances we can. And, I’d give my relation another shot. Not for him, not for me, but maybe for us. Let’s see if it can get any worse. I know it will require a hell of efforts to transform the trough into the crest again. Anyway, what’s the benefit if it’s that easy?”
I noticed how her session began and transformed, from being sad, depressed and crying to being optimistic and motivated.
“I see. So, what would be your next plan?”
“I guess, making a phone call and utmost a confession.”
Her straight spine, open palms on thighs and a hideous smile; her body language made her look confident.
“Do you think it will work?
“I don’t know. But without trying, how’d I even know?”
“That’s good. That’s inspiring. Go ahead!”
And finally, I could see her smiling.
Her resolution, making a phone call, put me in thoughts too. A phone call is all you need to make up the things the way they were before the injuries. It can be a wonderful New Year resolution: to give people second chances. Dialing a number and wishing him/her bright future may help to get things back and maybe in a better form. Sounds childish, but have you tried it, yet?
Love is about giving another try to love: the second chances and then nullify the memories of past.
Yes, the way you want to do with 2016. Good luck!
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