• To the sociopath who led me on

    by  • December 27, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, Heartbreak • 2 Comments

    Dear sociopath who enjoyed leading me on,
    I am not fine, not doing well. I am feeling sick wondering what justifications you give to your own conscience for having betrayed me and how many more false blames should I put on myself to convince myself that I lost because I was wrong somewhere. I hope you’re doing very good as always and are perfectly fine, as you’ve been fine with making me fall for you though you knew you had no intentions of catching me, as you’ve been fine with pretending that you loved me, as you’ve been fine with playing games with a heart that blindly trusted your words more than its own instincts, as you’ve been fine with daring to confuse a mind that thought about nothing other than your well being, as you’ve been fine with letting me beg you to take me, as you’ve been fine with breaking me piece by piece everyday, as you’ve been fine with being an inconsiderate, merciless monster, completely apathetic to my feelings, to my pain, as you’ve been fine with making me look like an idiot, as you’ve been fine with seeing me whine in pain missing you, as you’ve been fine with making me want to kill myself, as you’ve been fine with all the shit you did to me.

    But, I am somehow unwilling to throw curses at you, that karma must come and get you and you’ll be made to pay for all the vile things you did to me. I only wish you change. I wish you change into a human being. I hope this letter reaches you one day, and my unfathomable and undying love drenches you and makes you healthy. I wish this letter sucks all the apathy, the viciousness, and everything that is fogging your heart and keeping you malicious and toxic.

    I had never known how to compress all my unfathomable love for you within a string of words. But, I have imagined many instances which can show at least a blurry image of how much I am willing to love you.

    There has been no poem of R.M.Drake’s or Pablo Neruda’s which could completely explain perfectly the intensity of the feelings I had for you. Each poet was able to bring out only a very faint fragrance from the strong essence of love I had bottled and kept for you in this broken heart of mine. Sometimes I feel like I could build a very magnificent monument which no one could’ve ever imagined, just using the love I have for you. I never feed you all my affection at once because I think you’ll choke. If not you, at least any normal human being would.

    I have always had this crazy musing that what I would do if I lost a day’s heartbeats every time I texted you how much I loved you. I always, even today, answer that I would keep texting you until the very end and when I reach the last ones, I would use them to say a big “I love you” from the very bottom of the unfathomable ocean of affection my heart withholds for you. May be, this is my mistake?

    And then, if I must lose a drop of blood for each second I wished to see you and I was granted the wish, then I guess I would die looking at you. I think it would be the most satisfying death, the most beautiful way to die. Perhaps, this much of insane love destroyed our bond? My fault, I guess.

    I’ve never been able to write a good poem which could bring out the love that has been seeping from my heart since the moment I saw you. I guess I couldn’t explain my love through poems, because I was haunted by the thought that my pen would spill blood on the paper while trying to capture perfectly the essence of my affection and admiration for you. I have always been afraid if my veins would let blood leak out while trying to write about how much I needed you.

    I have wondered how I would’ve contacted you incessantly if only there wasn’t technology, suppose we lived in the 60’s or 70’s. My mind said, “letters!”. Yes, letters. I can write very beautiful letters that can melt the reader. I am very adept at expressing my feelings through writing, though it is impossible for the language to fully bring out the essence of my intense emotions. I think I would have written at least 10 letters everyday. Yes, only 10. Because, I might come across as clingy then. I don’t want to make you feel so. Also, why have you allowed me to feel uncomfortable in expressing something to you? Unpleasant. And yes, to 10 letters, I would limit every day. And then I wondered, “How do I know if it has reached him?” I guess I would stay near the post office all day and keep waiting for your reply. If I need to make sure you read what I wrote you, I would indubitably even be ready to wait for days without food or water, to assure myself that it has reached you, after receiving your reply. But then I contemplated, “Will he reply for sure? I doubt.” If you don’t reply for a long time, making me suspect your well being, I think I’ll flood your house with letters every minute until you are compelled to reply. If that doesn’t work, then I would walk all way to your place, I guess. I really would, but with little hesitation of course, because you may find me annoying. Yes, I doubt your capability to interpret my affection and concern, a lot. Why do you make me doubt? It is not pleasant at all.

    I have been perplexed many a times, looking at the way I care for you. I have had instances where I care for you so much, so deeply that I ignore me so much and I feel I could rot without care and just decay. Whenever you’ve returned home late, I had only allowed you to see my anger and you also were only that intelligent that you could only see what I chose to show you. You weren’t good enough to see the care that stayed veiled behind my anger and that’s okay. But, each time you returned late, I cared so much that it haunted me. Each cell in my body cried whenever you were late, each blood vessel tore itself apart in fear whenever you didn’t answer my call, I’ve felt like blood oozed out of my heart and I’ve prayed you return before my pulse becomes null. I don’t know who cares this much and why. But, I would have been ready to do this every day for you, if only you had let me. May be, this is why we broke up, I wonder.

    I don’t show it to you, but it really kills me whenever I recollect your words, “I guess this is why you did everything for me, to just boast about your fake affection and make me feel low”. If only you read this letter, I don’t know how uneasy or low you’ll feel. But, now that you’re gone, I honestly don’t know where to put all the love I have for you, except on paper. I’m extremely sorry for now and for whenever I have made you feel that I loved you only with the intention of making you recollect all that I did for you and to introduce guilt into you. I promise I’ve always tried being as reticent as possible with my affection for you. I deeply grieve that I’ve made you feel uneasy. And sometimes, it honestly looks very weird when I apologize for caring for you, for loving you, for everything. I’m sorry again to let you know today that this is an unpleasant feeling that you’re giving me, my dear. But don’t you worry, don’t you feel bad that I’m blaming you. I’ll become okay. It’s fine. Don’t mind.

    Can you imagine this? Even now, after learning you’ve cheated me and have been just playing with my feelings and using me all along, I sometimes lose sanity and wonder if I’ll ever get a chance to forget everything you did to me and just run back to you, ignoring all the others calling me insane. I’ve honestly never been ready for you to leave me, but you did, and I’m still unable to lift myself from drowning. I would have never walked away. But then, in our last phone call, you gave upon me. I saw you trying so hard to defend yourself, covering up with lies and trampling my broken heart further. You weren’t ready to spend a single sorry and buy me back. I realized that if only you didn’t want to lose me and my love, you’d have fought for me. Learning that I wasn’t indispensable to sustain your life, I walked away and you let me. Even if we reunite, we would break again and again at this point where you wouldn’t be willing to spend a sorry to buy me back and I would spend a million apologies to make sure I heal the wounds I think I cause, by letting you know that you hurt me.

    I hope, one day you find this letter and wonder how anyone could love someone so much and then just experience a happy tear rolling down your cheek. I really wish you such good things because you wouldn’t have experienced/ allowed yourself to experience those. I wish you deepness, I wish you emotions, I wish you allow yourself to develop a magnificent heart that cares more than necessary and forgives people gracefully to just keep them in your life, I wish you feelings of strength like gratitude and guilt, I wish you sympathy and empathy, I wish you love, I wish you maturity, I wish you a good heart, I wish you the most beautiful things that anyone can experience, I wish you humanity.

    I wish I had an option to erase all that happened between us and just turn the clock back for you, once. I would do it a million times for you, but then, after each time you make me fall and refuse to catch me, I am not sure if I’ll keep waiting with my million and one broken pieces. I am not sure if I’ll have the strength to keep being alive. If I had a million more lives to live, I would dare to meet you and develop feelings for you and love you to death all the million times, without denial. But what I’m not sure about is, if my body would be brave and fit enough to get ready for even one more life, after having experienced heartbreak with so much intensity that it injured me physically and completely incapacitated me.

    With love that’s impossible to put into words,
    The girl you gave up on. 🙂

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    2 Responses to To the sociopath who led me on

    1. “halo”
      December 27, 2017 at 6:26 pm

      I wish it’s you ….


      • @halo
        December 30, 2017 at 10:19 am

        Keep wishing sunshine ! One day I will have you put down , you are chipped !



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