You said, ‘I’m glad I let you go, and dissolved our friendship,’ but what’s strange is that you’re the one stalking me; reading my posts and injecting yourself between my lines, thinking I write about you. The earth doesn’t spin on its axis for your post-millennial theatrics, and the stars don’t glint like fireflies in the sky for your drama. I put you out of my system a long time ago, but you creep up now and then like a lizard on a wall, showing your horrendous face and I can’t help but be mad. I’m giving you too much attention by writing this, but it’s better to cough up acidic bile using words than soaking yourself – like a sponge – in the green ditch-water of bitterness. You’re an archetypal narcissist hiding behind distorted feminism, false Me Too banners  and blame games. You cannot humble yourself and apologize for the hurt you’ve caused, but whine and bitch when you’re hurt, pointing at everything in your vicinity, saying, ‘He’s responsible; she’s responsible; they’re responsible.’ Now I’m a fault-ridden man who has made his share of mistakes and paid dearly for them, and though my attempts to get my shit together crumbles to shattered idealism, I’ll admit that I’m responsible for throwing my life away.

It’s strange that you contact me after telling me that you’re doing everything in your power to avoid me, and that you don’t want me around. So, I wisely did the right thing then and fucked off. Now, you’re in some deep pit, and you want my hand pulling you out of it, but I’m sorry, you closed that chapter a long time ago. I hate giving people advise, but please don’t use people after you’ve hurt them. It’s selfish and reckless, just like you cutting yourself and not seeking professional help for your depression is. You’re sadly all about me, myself and I with a universe of self-pity revolving around that core, and maybe you’ll have an epiphany or maybe not, but regardless of where you end up or what you do, push me out of that head of yours and leave me the fuck alone.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

27 responses

      • it does and I do a lot of that, in the process I hurt people who care for me. we never start off wanting to be a bad person do we? so your words have deep significance.

      • Nobody wants to be a bad person, but sadly we’re forced to be tough. I hate it, honestly. Give me my cigarettes, coffee, books and a house in the mountains and I’ll spend the rest of my days in peace, but that vision is too utopic and reality always kicks me in the gut!

      • i think you are stronger than you feel, your words have a value of someone who understands humanity better than most, its raw but so very sincere. i want a houseboat so when I don’t like people I can just float away. coffee and cake for me thank you and books yes that too! dreams can come true, do you live near the mountains?

      • Thank you so much again. A houseboat with coffee and cake sounds just as appealing as the mountains, but the only problem is that I like the cold, crisp air in the hills. I don’t live near the hills. I live in a neo-cosmopolitan ever extending town, but I do get away whenever I get the chance.

      • good! I like to hear that you have the chance to escape when you must. I live in a city too but i am an hour a way to the hills, its where i escape too, my good fortune the sea is equally close by. take care and keep on writing! p/s: i thrive on the cold!

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