Dear Red,
I have often seen
those American sitcoms, where two characters, both distraught with the
incessant tries, highly unsuccessful ones, of searching for the ‘right one’,
start having a drunken conversation about the common factor- their lost hope of
hitting the target. They then go on, to drink even more, together however this
time, bonding over misery, lack of love and stability, only to decide by the
end of the night that if by the time they are 40 and still unmarried, they will
marry each other, a contract/ decision/ moment of tom foolery rather, which
makes their lonesome misery seem a little less morbid, and their lonely future
slightly less lonely.
If right now, I were to make such a decision, and choose one
person as my 40 year old groom, it would be you. I seem to find complacence in
the thought of having you by my side, at the time where I will be at my neediest
worst, seeking warmth and a hand to hold. The thought of having a future with
you makes me feel very safe, something which brings a lot of relief and peace
to a person as insecure and complex as me.
It all seems like a perfect painting, the Sun setting on our
happy faces, when our heart’s warm glow seems to mirror the Sun’s natural and
very consistent energy. The future, my perception, just brings a smile to my
face, and the much needed thinly woven thread, by which I choose to hang and be
happy about something which in all honesty I know, is quite improbable.
Even as I try to drown myself in my illusion of utter glee,
the sharp edged needle of reality instantly bursts my balloon, even before it
prepares to take off. I question myself, if the future seems so effortlessly
pleasant, then why does the present not seem correlated to it at all? If I see
us together, even in the most delusional of ways, then why can’t I do that at
present? Perhaps because I know that the vision that I have for the future is a
mere lie, which gives me solace owing to its candor of not being real ever.
Hence not being capable of corrupt, disappointing or destroyed in any way, like
most things in real life. I know that at 40, you will be a successful, married
man, with a woman who deserves someone as honest and kind as you, with someone
who is simple to understand, and who was lucky enough to be at the right place,
at the right time, with the right balls and everything complying to the ‘right’
that I never was, never could be.
As I watch this chance slip right through my hands, I realize it is one of those times, where I could have done something, but chose
not to all because of the fears and insecurities of my heart. When I watch you,
all I can think of is being with you, sharing your life, being the reliable shoulder
when you need it, and echoing your cheer whenever you indulge in a moment of
your cute and carefree laughter.
Maybe I will regret it 20 years down the line, maybe I will
beat myself up over and over again for letting the mere distance of a few words
separate us further than any number of miles could have. We were there,
together, in front of each other, and I just wasn’t brave enough to simply
‘say’ what I felt. Had I taken my chance, the huge burden of never knowing how
things would turn out to be, would have not weighed my heart and mind down for
so many years. How I wish, for once, you would have come to me, and just asked
me, for I was there, right there, just waiting to say ‘yes’ to you.
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