She knew she was in love again. A kind of love which carried the experience yet the madness of her first love. Yes, it can happen again-in the same, similar or a different way, nevertheless a better way. But was it in anyway better?
It broke her, made her weak. It was making her someone she wasn’t, a different person. But most importantly, it was one sided. They underestimate one sided love even when it carries weapons that can rip either of the two persons off into pieces that cannot be stitched together. One becomes scared of love, the other becomes scared to love. It forces both of them to act like there’s nothing more to it…. nothing at all. When the reality is, they are ashamed. Ashamed of confessing, committing, holding on to the friendship they had and talking about it, because they know, things are already messed up! None of them is the person himself or herself. We pretend. Ashamed of something so beautiful.
“Stop this Chhaya! This is insanity. Will you ever learn a lesson?!?! I did. You must” he said.
“Why should I? Loving someone isn’t a mistake. LOVE IS NOT A MISTAKE…the person is. But I was sure you are not.” she woke up telling to herself.