A Letter.

Hi friend,

(Are you happy that I didn’t write best-friend instead? You ought to be, I command now.)

I cheerfully take the blame for all the war going on between us. It’s very simple to understand if you look at it from my point of view.

See, I’m a very basic human-being. I see happiness, I see sadness and I see love with a very basic approach of mind. I don’t know the meaning of hang-around friends. I don’t understand their presence in my life. I wouldn’t ever like calling myself an exhibitionist if at all, at any point of time, I appreciate the crowd. Call me a kid, but I can only and only make best friends. I’ll keep doing that throughout my life. That’s my introduction if after all these months you haven’t come to know me that well. My previous blog echoed the same. I nowhere wished to be insulting to you.

Coming back to the fore, I would’ve appreciated it if you considered yourself one of the very special people in my lives. Our proximity to each other yelled out the same. But, when you betrayed me at times, (which is largely understandable now if I consider you as a part of the crowd. But disheartening, if I consider you as a friend), I got away with your explanation that was grossly made-up (only because I was blind). Why else was I not able to explain your follies to others who aren’t close to you that well? They’re experienced creatures I must tell you.

I remember you gave me hints that you didn’t consider anyone a friend. But, I’m sorry I ignored them when I saw how gracious you can be to me (Yes, thanks a lot for that beautiful farewell at your house. It shall remain one of the most endearing moments of my life) but now, I feel let down. Having invested so much of affection in you, I couldn’t bear to “move on” when you requested. But, I did. And, I experienced the lack of restraint and lovely freedom you used to talk about.

Talking about my habit of moping about stuff, I can honestly say that with a hand on my heart, that no one except you knows me like that. You were so (or maybe you acted) sympathetic to me that it became a hard-to-quit habit. I’m Angelina Jolie. Does that make me her? Similarly, calling myself a loser once doesn’t make me one. I’m a winner. I’ll do what my heart desires as soon as I become independent. You can’t contradict that. Because, you have no right to hurt my self-esteem. Even if I’m blind.

You wanted me to move on. When I did, you retaliated. I can’t understand the mixed signals you give me. You want to lurch in the crowd instead of staying by my side, go ahead. I don’t mind that now. You have always inspired me. And this time, you’ve enthused in me the spirit to budge on. I could’ve never taken this bold step, ever. Nor could I write, all that I did in my previous blog, had you not shaped me that well. I stole that from you. Thank you!

Finally, let me assure you that how acrimoniously we may have ended, you’ll always be held in high esteem in my eyes (for a few reasons, I got hurt. But like you, I don’t believe in grudges. I just spew venom in the face and leave.). You shall be regarded as my best friend and guru forever (even if you don’t like the tag, like always.) Do you ever remember if I had talked bitter about anyone from my previous life ? (Excluding physical appearance, please. I talk about my figure with a greater disdain!) I’ve had spats with my old best friends but even then, I can’t help but call them the best people ever in my lives without letting anyone know that they’re far-far away from me. (A secret:They return. My fingers are crossed for another return but I’ll be happy to be away for some time now.)

It was nice being with you.
It could have been nicer.

Love,
Fifty per center.