Seven Years

The world today around me kept screaming “Happy Valentine’s Day!”, but internally I, was celebrating a different day

The day, which made me realize that I survived seven years….in India

Yup that’s right. It was on this day, in 2013 that my mother, brother and I landed in this country. And my oh my what a journey it has been

We, were in the most horrible state before we finally came here. When we landed, we felt that now, things would definitely get better. That it can’t get any worse

Boy oh boy were we wrong…

I don’t remember a lot, because that’s how my brain works. I tend to block memories that are painful for me. It happens automatically. It started when things started going all wrong and bad things started happening when I was in the 6th grade. I have so many repressed memories, that it’s actually harmful to my mental health, now that I think of it

I saw family conflicts, both internal and external, and also locked myself in isolation. My anxiety worsened and so did my life. There was a point when I started doubting my self worth, my existence too

We were nomads and kept roaming from from one place to another. And I saw a whole different set of world then. I don’t think I can ever talk about how painful the times have been

That’s probably why I never talk about it

My family and I went from thinking that we were never gonna be able to pick ourselves up, to finally starting to see the light between the clouds

As I now complete seven years in a country that is my own, but never treated me right, at this point of the journey all I can say is that it might have shown me some extreme hard times, but it showed me how strong I am

If I could go through all of that and yet stand with my head up, then I am proud of myself

The initial years might have been way too hard on me and my family, but now, it’s finally okay

To think that after all this time, after so many obstacles, I finally am able to graduate makes me teary eyed

To see my mom finally be independent, and to see her carry herself in the most dignified way possible, earning respect for the work she is doing makes me the proudest daughter

To see my brother actually make it till the 10th grade makes me laugh

To see my father survive through the worst conditions and yet not give up, to see him fighting still, to give all of us a better life gives me hope

Hope, that we might be late, but we are slowly getting there. And that day won’t be far, when I’d be proud of myself for finally battling through everything that I have went through, and still am

That it would be worth it

Seven years in this country might have been an extreme roller coaster journey, and this country might have been nothing but plain bad to me, but to see myself progress is something I’m thankful for. Because only I know, how hard it has been for me to have held my own

When I told my mother this, all she said was, “It feels like we came yesterday. My goodness, we have been through some horrible shit but we made it!”

I cried while talking with her about this, and cried while writing this post, but hey, that’s life

For me atleast

Hopefully in the near future I’ll get to stop counting the years. And that I start counting a new set of years, happy ones

On Cousins and Extended Family

Whether it’s mindless scrolling on various social media platforms or talking to the people around me, I often come across the topic of childhoods spent by these said people, and how their experiences have been

As much as everyone’s childhood has been so different than the other, I can’t help but have noticed a recurring element in every single person’s childhood – cousins

Every other person often talks about how they used to have sleepovers with their cousins, share family secrets and gossip about their mutually hated family member. How they would roam around the town during holidays and create chaos together

They also talk about how times have changed and they wish to do all of that again and get sad about how now as we have grown up, time they spend with their cousins has reduced but they don’t ever miss an opportunity to connect even today

That maybe they can’t do all of that today, but they found “their people” in their families

I don’t have that

I’ve never had that

I know, that being Indian and not having all of this comes as a shock to you as a reader, but that’s what my life has always been!

From where I am, unlike the rest of India, the mother’s side is more prominent to us than the father’s side. Everything stems from there. So when I say “cousins” I mean my mom’s side. That’s what is considered for us (I know it seems super weird for you but it is what it is)

So I’m the second eldest among the cousins. I have an elder sister and then everyone else is younger to me. Some are even toddlers!

I was brought up in a foreign country, where I had absolutely no one from my family near me. No one from both sides of the family. Generally that isn’t the case for many people I know, that’s why they do have some memories at least, but with me….. none

When I was small, I used to visit India for a month, once a year. My cousins used to stay in Mumbai and not my hometown, so we used to stay with them only for a week and then go to my hometown where only my grandparents lived

I’m quite close to my elder cousin sister. But not in a way that others generally are I guess, because when I now hear people talk about their closeness, we are nowhere near close!

Five years back when I stayed in my hometown for a few months was the only time I even got to know my younger cousin sister well. I only knew her name and knew she loved the Indian sweet “peda”. That’s literally the only thing I ever knew!! I remember not even knowing what to talk to her about

I still fumble when I talk to her now, and so does she. But there isn’t awkwardness present now. Phew!

Almost all my cousins now live in my hometown. When I do visit my hometown, which is super infrequent, I don’t end up meeting my cousins except the kid ones, because both the sisters are out there doing their own thing. It’s been three years since I have seen my younger sister, and four years since I have seen my elder sister, who is the only one I consider somewhat close to me

If for the sake of conversation we are to take my father’s side of the family into consideration, that’s some next level crazy shit

My father’s side of the family is huge and I till date don’t understand the relations that are present. If I am to talk only about the cousin part, my brother and I are the youngest there. So my cousins from that side are all grown ups who have kids!

Apparently I have a niece who is elder to me!! I fainted hearing that a year ago

I’m so glad my father’s family isn’t given importance in my place because I would have gone insane with all this confusion…..

When my parents meet up with their cousins during festivals, as many of them live nearby now, they talk about the “good old days” and reminisce about the times they spent together, and gossip about particular family members

Just like how people of my age do, today

I guess, I missed out on a lot. Seems as if it somehow is an integral part of everyone’s life – this extreme bonding with cousins

Oh well, that’s okay

The Tale of the Four Eyes

I’m in the first grade, sitting in my classroom, when all of a sudden us kids were told to form a line to go somewhere important

Turns out, this little trip to the school medical center would change my life completely

All of us were weighed, measured, our vitals were checked and then in the end, we had to cover one eye and read these random alphabets placed at the back of the door

It was my turn to do this. I was confident because I’m a first grader so it’s obvious I’d know my ABC’s. But when I did the thing and started saying the alphabets, this lady near me says that I am telling it all wrong. When the lady asked me to stop, I saw the alphabets with both my eyes and could see it all – except the last two lines

The lady wrote something on a paper and told me to give it to my parents. That this was urgent

That piece of paper, turned my life upside down

The first thing I did when I reached home was hand this piece of paper over to my parents. Dad told me that we were gonna go out later in the evening

We reached a building and went in. The receptionist told us to go inside. I was still clueless but I thought this was gonna be something fun!

Boy oh boy was I wrong….

This doctor, asked me to sit and then all of a sudden started to examine my eyes with a small flashlight. I was then made to sit in front of various machines which were moving and was told to keep my head still

My head didn’t feel normal towards the end of it. I was made to wear these weird glasses and then lenses were put in these. The doctor kept asking me to read the alphabets and numbers again and again. It sort of felt like magic. When it was over, he asked my parents how is it that I have survived for this long without any aid? My parents were confused with this question, and I was convinced I was dying

Okay come on now, I was five! The doctor said stuff like, “How have you not noticed this before?” and “It might have been too late had you delayed the checkup” and child me thought I had some terminal disease

I didn’t want to die before I could finish watching my Barbie movie…

You see, I have a condition that I was born with. My corneas, are damaged. There is a tear in them or something like that

The doctor asked my parents if there was anyone in the family who wore glasses and they replied in the negative. The doctor was in disbelief and said that there has to be someone because my condition is a genetic one. I inherited it. My parents were in complete disapproval of this theory and argued with the doctor. The doctor said that it was possible that someone has it but was never diagnosed with it. But my parents said that not a single person has ever complained about their vision. This argument went on for about an hour

This was a whole lot of new information for my little brain to process. The only explanation I gave to myself was that I was adopted. I was the introverted child of two extroverted parents. I also somehow inherited a condition that no one in either of my families has
My conclusion made sense. With this I will also admit, I was an extremely stupid kid

Two days later we visit the doctor again. He went into detail about what this condition meant. He also spoke about how the power of my eyes were extremely high and were always fluctuating. I had both the “plus” and the “minus”. The plus was somewhere at a 3 or a 4 and the minus, well one eye was 8 and the other was 6. My eyes basically defied normal eyes

He said that the only way to stabilize my eyesight would be by me having to sacrifice a huge part of my childhood. Summer vacations were going to start and obviously I wanted to play and dance my heart out, but I’d have to do that without my complete eyesight. I was made to wear this eye – patch which was essentially a band – aid for my eye. I had to cover one eye of mine and see the world through the other eye. I had to train myself to go about my day with just one eye. The only time I was allowed to take this eye – patch off was when I was sleeping and when I was to take a bath. I did this for an entire month and you’d think that the misery would be over after this but nope!

I then had to wear an eye – patch on the other eye and go on with my life using my other eye which I previously had closed off. I now had to wear this patch for 15 days. I don’t think even ninjas have such rigorous training

glasses

The entire experience was just so awful. I was just a kid and half of my eyesight was taken away from me. I also had to apply eye drops thrice a day, everyday. Oh, I also had to wear glasses 🙂

Going back to school with an extra pair of eyes was not fun. Half of the people didn’t recognize me while the other half asked me if I watched way too much television during my summer break and so ended up with glasses

How was I supposed to explain to them that I had some weird condition related to a part of my eye I can’t even pronounce?

Most of my childhood passed in everyone asking me how many fingers are they holding when I took my glasses off, and also holding objects really far away and asking me to tell what exactly it is. I felt like a toy for everyone

But on the other hand, all the struggles I went through paid off when the doctor said that my eyesight had stabilized. He was shocked at how quickly it happened! I got rid of my “plus” power and the “minus” power was now at a normal number

But I had to wear glasses permanently. My parents weren’t happy with this

They asked if there was anything they could do, any surgery or operation to rid me off my glasses. But the doctor said they’d have to wait till I was eighteen years old

You see, my parents were young and knew no better. Societal standards didn’t allow glasses. They weren’t “pretty”. I don’t blame my parents, they just wanted their daughter to fit into the world. But alas, that wasn’t possible

So, I grew up with an extension to my body – my glasses. But little did tiny me know that this part of me which I loathed would end up being the most inseparable part of adult me. Because I had to wear them from such a young age, I grew attached to it

Today, these glasses of mine are what make me feel normal. They’re a part of me. They make me feel, me. They have become my identity now. Honestly, I feel naked without my glasses

I know that according to the rules laid down by the society we live in, glasses are “unattractive”. So many people have told me to “take my glasses off” while I’m going out or while taking photos. I find it funny how people react when I say I feel uncomfortable without my glasses. They show me others who don’t wear them on a regular basis and I always say, “to each their own”

Shouldn’t we all just do what makes us feel comfortable? Can’t we just choose what we want to do and wear rather than conform to some stupid notions?

And wow sorry my inability to see makes me “not – pretty”. I’ll choose having an aid to help me see things better over idiotic beauty standards any day 😂
I do believe I rock wearing glasses though. I completely own the look!!

And so, this is the story of my “four eyes”
Do you have any such stories? Ones where you or your condition(s) defied the normal human body?

And That’s A Wrap!

Celebrating a new year doesn’t make sense to me. Or for that matter celebrating the end of a year. In my head it’s just another day and the new year means updating the calendar app on my phone and turning the 8 in 2018 to a 9 for a week minimum of January while writing the date because it’s 2019 and well, pretty much used to writing 2018.
Oh god, can’t turn an 8 to a 9….

As for how the year has been? Yeah, it was pretty awful. I remember thinking at the end of 2017 that perhaps 2018 might be slightly better because it can’t get worse than that
Boy oh boy was I wrong…..

The first half or more of the year was me in all honesty being the Duracell bunny and being excessively hyper about each and everything.
Even the smallest of things.
I was quite a bit dramatic at times and just…..cringey at moments. I read my texts from the earlier months and weep because I can’t believe myself!
If you were one of the victims of this extreme-ish behaviour of mine and decided to distance yourself from me then I don’t blame you. You’re right in what you did and all I can say is sorry. I ask for your forgiveness because I wasn’t myself then.
And I know why.

The months following that saw myself crawling back into my dark place.
And that’s why I was such at the beginning of the year.
You see, I went through this pattern around five years ago when I had one of my worst anxiety episodes. I was incredibly hyper and did some serious damage only to end up in the darkest corner of my brain. I also had isolated myself from the entire world for a little more than a year. Though it was circumstantial, I didn’t find it the slightest bit difficult to do so. It was as if I wanted to do it anyways. That I would have done it even if the situation hadn’t forced me to do so.

It was the same this year as well and that’s why I was all over the place in the first half of the year. It was like a warning sign for me that I will be going into overdrive later on.
Of course, I ignored the sign.

So yeah, spent the rest of the year being at my lowest. Reached an all time low when I didn’t want anything to do with anyone. How I managed to get up and give my exams is still unknown to me because I remember feeling like just giving up and crawling into a hole and never coming out of it.
There were multiple times when I wanted to stop all sorts of communication with everyone. I just didn’t want to talk. The only reason I refrained from doing such is because of the many promises I made to a few people stating that I’d never do what I did a few years back.

I just felt like shit. I still feel like shit.

2018 wasn’t my year. And I know many will sing the same song with me because I know plenty who feel/felt the same way.

This year was when I realized that I haven’t completely dealt with the fact that I’m not important. I thought I was okay but turns out I wasn’t so had to teach myself to deal with that.

I met new people and lost people this year. Emotions were high. I felt so many emotions this year which I never thought I was capable of!!

It was the year when I realized that keeping my emotions on a lockdown is far more better than being let down when I talk about it. Because when I do talk about it, it won’t be validated. And it won’t make a difference.
It’s better to suffer by overflowing my brain with my feelings and trying not to pop like a soda bottle than to feel rejected and hurt.
That I’m better off not talking about how I feel. Just like the old times!

The year had it’s few highs too. Most of them being achieving the daily goals I had set for myself and also how I went back to accepting myself the way I am. Realizing that I was being way too hard on myself and working on that was honestly the best thing that I did. It was time.

All in all, it was a year where I felt distant, left out, lost and hopeless. A year where by the end of it, I decided to shut myself out almost completely.

And I really doubt that things will get better in the following year. A change in the calendar year will not immediately bring drastic changes in my life.

So no, I don’t believe in the concept of “new year, new me” because I don’t believe I need to wait for a year to begin to deal with my issues.
They need to be done now.
Because I can’t take it anymore.

What is the deal with this whole concept though? If I am to follow it then I should be having 22 new versions of myself……what even?

If possible, I’d like to physically burn 2018. See it go up in flames. Maybe then I’d feel better.
But you see, the things I went through or rather still am didn’t have anything to do with the year. So it’s ridiculous blaming it.
Everything is a mess and there isn’t anyone or anything to blame. Definitely not a calendar year.

Maybe one day I’ll wake up and not have this heavy feeling in my chest.

Weight Issues

I’ve always struggled with my weight. It’s probably one of the earliest memories that I have. Everyone that saw me always had quite a bit to say.
Quite a lot really.
And it has never stopped.
Not even now.

I was born underweight. It wasn’t a huge deal to my parents as this is sort of common in my family. Growing up, I never really put on much weight. I was an underweight kid. Skinny and small – these are the perfect adjectives to describe my younger self.
Somehow these adjectives followed me till I grew up. It’s these words that still describe me till date.

Yeah, you guessed it. This is a rant about being skinny – shamed.

So yup. I’m excessively thin. I’m not the dictionary definition of “skinny” but that’s the tag I have gotten by everyone. Who knows, maybe I am skinny but my tendency to take words literally is what makes me not believe it.

I, on a regular hear comments about my weight. I hear things like,
“Be careful the wind is strong! You’ll fly away!”
“You buy your clothes from the children’s section right?”
“Do you not eat?”
“Eat more”
“Girl, exercise”
“You might even fit in my pocket”
“You can be folded”
“How are you even standing?”
“Anyone can just pick you up”

What doesn’t help my case is the fact that I’m short. Short and skinny, can you even imagine what I hear everyday?
No you can’t
Because you probably say it too

 

Two weeks back, I had some relatives over for dinner. These are the kind of relatives that I love.
As I was staring at my wardrobe (this is how I select clothes. I just stare at them 💁) this one kurti spoke to me. I took it out and first thing that came to my mind was, “This kurti doesn’t make you look too thin. Wear it and you’ll escape the “you’ve lost so much weight” comments that are coming your way”
And I did.
I wore that kurti.
Because I didn’t want to hear those comments.
And that’s when it clicked me.
This is what I have become now.

If you were to see me when I was seven years old, you’d always find me in overalls. I loved them so much, I had around five kinds of overalls. All different from each other.

This aunty once told my mom, “She looks more thin in overalls. She looks like a stick. Frocks are better at least.”

I never wore overalls after that.

Which kid is supposed to think about their body and not just wear what she wants?
Is it right for a 7 year old to be subjected to that kind of cruelty?

I looked at myself in the full length mirror in my parents’ bedroom and said to myself, “I really do look like a stick. No wonder I hear such bad stuff. I look bad”

And that’s when I started getting super insecure about my body.

Each and every comment made about me by family members and friends’ parents were audible now. I heard everything but never reacted to them as my parents also always seemed to agree with them. It just broke me because I started to believe that I looked horrible. I started believing every word that everyone around me said.

The girl who loved wearing knee length skirts one day just stopped wearing them because she heard a comment saying she had, “chicken legs” once. She doesn’t even remember who told it, but that sentence haunted her for the rest of her life.

Tell me, is that really normal?

When I was around 15 years old, I decided to stop feeling this bad about myself and try and turn things around. That it was time I stopped feeling ugly and owned how I looked completely.
I need to feel good about myself because I should.
None of this is my fault. I shouldn’t punish myself.

I did just that. It took me years to finally feel good about myself. To feel comfortable in my own skin. To actually be okay with how I was.
I put the whole world on mute.

But somehow now, everyone isn’t on mute anymore.

The past two – three years or so have been incredibly tough on my body. I’ve been losing a lot of weight. I personally don’t mind it because I know why it is happening, but somehow everyone around me has something to say and it has started pricking me.
Because this time, it’s worse.

What I hear today, are jokes. Actual jokes made in front of other people.
And these hurt.

Somehow my identity today is that I’m super thin and can “fly away at any given time”. Anything that I do or say in life doesn’t really matter anymore. It doesn’t contribute to my identity.
This one, physical attribute of mine, upon which I have no control over, is what I will forever be known as.

And you know what? That’s wrong.
Because these “jokes” have brought my insecurities back.
And that, isn’t fair.

How dare you joke about me?
When did I tell you that it’s okay?
Who told you that you’re allowed to make me feel insecure about my own self?
Who gave you permission to make me feel ugly?
Who asked you for your “advice”?
Why can’t you understand that you need to stop when I tell you to?
Why do you feel it’s okay to comment about my body?

There is a limit to everything. Sure, the comments that my close friends tell me don’t affect me one bit. On the contrary I laugh with them. Not a word they say on this topic affect me or my self esteem in any way.
Because they don’t say anything that hurts me. They, are in there limits.

But not everyone is. You can’t joke about how you will just pack me in a suitcase or how I shouldn’t really pay for a seat because a person’s lap is enough for me.
That my friend, is where you cross all the limits.
And I don’t think you should be told all of this.
This is something that should come from within you.

If today, I have gone back to selecting clothes that make me look less thin as I go in front of the people that I love and care about, it’s your jokes to blame.
You have scarred me to such an extent that the little girl who was horrified of her body is back.
The one I took so many years to get rid off, is back.
And it’s your fault.

Today when I look at myself in the mirror, all I can think about are the jokes you crack as I look at my body.

And I, have had enough.

I have felt helpless and ugly all my life. It took a lot of effort for me to be comfortable in my own skin.
I can’t let my efforts go to waste.
I can’t let you and your jokes win.
I can’t let that little girl come back again.

You, aren’t allowed to break me anymore.
You, aren’t allowed to make me feel ugly anymore.

The next time you crack a God – awful joke about someone’s body, think about how it could affect them.
It doesn’t matter if they are fat or thin, there are lines which you shouldn’t cross.
Because you never know which joke of yours could lead to someone feeling disgusted about themselves.

I know plenty of others, my own friends, who have been subjected to this kind of stuff. I know how low they have felt about themselves too.
And it isn’t right.

No one should feel like they are ugly.
No one should feel that their self worth depends upon how their body is.

So choose your words wisely, because you don’t know what the other person is going through.
You don’t know their struggles.
Your words, your jokes, can break someone.

You don’t know how the sentences you let out of your mouth can shatter even the strongest of people.
Because this is a sensitive topic.
And it’s time, you find a topic that is genuinely funny.

Let’s not make people insecure about themselves.
Can we just agree on this?

A Bunch Of Words Strung Together, For You

Dear Shefy,

Welcome to a blog post dedicated entirely to you!
I hope that didn’t sound creepy oh my god it did didn’t it?

When our classes got shuffled in the seventh grade and we ended up being in the same class, I remember thinking to myself, “Isn’t this that girl I see roaming around during recess and near the buses?”

One Tenali Rama drama in the ninth grade later, you became close.

From the tiffins we ate in the second period because we both were always hungry, to fighting those bullies in class – in such a short amount of time we gathered so many memories oh my.

During recess everyday – me to myself, “she still roams around? Does this woman not get tired?”

Then I left. My memory of a few years after that are blurry to me. I tend to block bad memories because as you know, I choose to shove my feelings deep down instead of talking about them.
But with everything that was going on, you were always by my side. It felt like you could hear the inner me cry for help and you were there to calm her down.
At the worst of my times you didn’t give me sympathy, you treated me normally.
It seemed like you could see past everything that was happening, the monster I was becoming. I was still the same to you and today if I have my sanity intact it’s because of you.

You’re my personal cheerleader!

 

When I took an unexpected hiatus from the internet and disappeared on you for more than a year, I really thought that it was the end. That things would not go back to how they were.
A part of me believed I had lost you forever.
Why?
Because I felt that me not being around to make you remember I exist would mean that eventually you’d forget. The devil that is my brain made me believe that perhaps you talked to me because I’d make you. That now you probably were thinking, “good riddance” and thanked your stars for me taking a sudden exit from your life.
You probably didn’t want anything to do with me anymore, and that feeling ate me up so much….

When I made my re-appearance, I was firm in my thoughts.
But boy oh boy did things turn from there.

You cursed at me for disappearing on you like that and thought I was dead.
I still laugh at this 😂

To see someone that affected by what I had done made not just my day but my life. I know you still hate that I did it to you but if I am being honest, I’m glad I did it. It is only because of that incident did I realize that even if I was a random message that popped on your screen rather than an actual human popping around you in reality, I meant something to you.

Yup, I am that selfish. I am talking about myself when this is supposed to be a post about you.
Like I care….

And it has only been up from there!!

As time passed you became an integral part of my life. I still don’t know how you managed to do that. You always complain about how high I have built the walls around me but somehow you managed to make a you-sized hole in one of them.

You and I, we have nothing in common. We are poles apart. You are so emotional and me, the complete opposite.
But I guess, that’s the beauty of our friendship. Two people with zero common ground being this close is not something anyone can imagine.
At least I didn’t.

Not being around for five years takes a toll on you though. My friends here say how amazing it is that despite the different time zones I still am this close to you. Little do they know that it might look beautiful from the outside, but deep down it eats you up.
It eats me up.

There are times when I feel like I need a shoulder to cry on. Times when I just want to hug you as you go through some of the most unimaginable situations in life.
Not being able to just sit next to you and tell you that everything will be alright is a fact that I learned to live with.
It isn’t a fact that I wanted to learn to live with.

I’m not a people person, you know that. My issues with human beings have been present ever since I can remember.
My entire life I have felt like a doormat. People came, people went.
But you stayed.

I have had this fear ever since a kid, of people leaving me. I don’t know from where it stems but it has always been there.
I think I was ten years old when this fear set in.
All I did was not let people in because I always felt that one fine day they’ll leave.
But you never left.

Even after seeing the absolute mess that I am – the weird little girl with problems bigger than her height and a personality that half the world doesn’t like – you decided to stay.

Three – four years ago I stopped attaching myself to people. Probably why disappearing came easy to me. I was convinced that the fear residing in me is true and I was better off without any people in my life.
What magic did you do to change my mind, woman?

Recent events that have happened triggered the fear I finally had gotten rid of. But it’s because of people like you, I know that even though the fear of people leaving me is present, I need to give people a chance because not everyone will.
And that’s why you’re important to me. You, without even realizing it changed so many views of mine about life and about people.

You restored my faith in humanity. If today I believe in people – it’s because you taught me to.

We think alike once in a blue moon and the only common thing between us is probably our extreme hatred for watermelon, yet we ended up building a friendship so strong that all the adjectives in the English language aren’t enough to describe it.

Your friends ended up being my friends and my friends, yours. Your drama with your friends comes to me as you seek solutions and my whining and ranting about India and our society comes to you.
From sending screenshots of others’ messages to each other and asking, “what do I say now?” or my personal favourite, “look what they said!”, to sending voice-notes detailing the other about our day – we do it all.

For the others reading this as it’s on a public platform and have no idea what is going on, this best friend of mine is getting married and I am getting emotional.
She isn’t dying
I know that’s what you thought. Shush

So bebz, you’re getting married to the love of your life. Your story is something that I’ve read about or seen in movies.
When you told me your story I thought to myself, “um, did she just narrate a movie plot? Do these things happen in real?”

It does. You’re living proof.

You’re a fighter. You’re an inspiration.
You’re story makes me believe in love.
I don’t believe for myself, duh. But I guess I believe that there are people like you out there, the rarest of the rare, who show the world the very fact we have grown up watching on our screens – that true love exists.
A love that sees no boundary, no time and no place. A love so strong that it could fight the most painful struggles and still come out strong.

A love that gets a happy ending.

You getting married is like the end of an era. You’re so willingly giving up almost your entire life to be with the man who won your heart.
It’s not something you see on a daily basis. And I consider myself lucky to be witnessing this.
I consider myself lucky to have you in my life.

I don’t like change.
But this change is something I’m looking forward to as it is going to bring you the happiness that you oh so much deserve.
And seeing you happy is all I want.

I know you’re a materialistic person. And this is far from a gift that you’d like. I made you read even though you hate reading. It’s the most awful gift to give you, actually!
But as of now I can’t give you anything in the material form.
I hope for the time being this is enough because if I decided to tell you how I feel, it means you’re pretty darn special to me.
You’re lucky to have me in your life!

Thank you for always being there for me. I won’t be telling you all the other sappy stuff.
Because I ain’t going anywhere.

This isn’t a “bye” but a new “hello” as you step into this new chapter of your life.

I believe I have made you feel important enough. More than this you don’t deserve so now I stop.

I’ll see you in your messages after this.

Yours,
Kitty

Versions

Who am I to you?
Just another human walking the surface of the planet
That you happened to cross
And now regret?

Who am I to you?
Just another contact on your phone
The one you’ll remember
Only when you need something?

Who am I to you?
Just one of your many friends
In whom you’re slowly losing interest
Making you re-think your past decisions
But it’s too late today
So you’re just keeping up for old time’s sake?

Who am I to you?
Just another person you know
Whose company you don’t really enjoy
But in a place like this
Only a few seem tolerable
And somehow I fall in this category
So you decide to just pretend?

Who am I to you?
Just another girl who you find annoying
Whom you didn’t find such in the start
But then got onto your nerves
Therefore planning to get rid of?

Who am I to you?
Just another over-thinker and ranter
Who probably told you all the thoughts that swam in her head
Which you didn’t expect when you met her
Because she seemed calm and composed
And on learning the opposite
Makes you wonder how wrong your judgment was?

Who am I to you?
Just another woman with strong opinions
That tries to raise her voice on the matters around her
Because she can’t keep her mouth shut
When it comes to things she feels strongly
Someone you’d like to belittle?

Who am I to you?
Just another acquaintance
Who speaks about her mental health
Which you believe is crazy
As you were brought up in a society
Where issues like this is are looked down upon
Which makes you believe it isn’t anything real
And it’s just all in the head
So you’re going to discard the struggles
The struggles of functioning like a normal person
All because it doesn’t fit your idea of an ‘ideal human’?

Who am I to you?
Just another idiot
Who says “Thank You” and “Sorry” more than required
And almost cries when someone shows the least bit of interest in her
Because little things matter way too much to her
Which you find weird
Because we live in a day and age
Where one only chases the big things in life?

Who am I to you?
Just another soul
That you sympathize with
As you know about some of the skeletons in the closet
And maybe relate to on some level
So you just continue to endure me
Not because you actually like who I am despite everything
But in reality
All you feel is sorry?

Who am I to you?
Just another person you speak to
Once in a while
When she bugs you
Which is the only time you remember
About her existence
Because she isn’t important
For you to remember on your own?

Tell me what version of me
Is in your head
Is it one of the many I spoke of
Or one of the other possibilities
That are out there?

Because I have reached a breaking point
And I have a million questions in my head
Whose answers I need
To try and feel sane again