Nobody talks anymore about her to me. Maybe everyone is being courteous or may be they have finally given upon me. I don’t blame them. Its difficult to understand my kind of love. It took me, myself a few years to come to terms with it. Those days and nights of turmoil and agony! Looking back I can sort of find a certain romance in those moments though.
Yesterday I saw a photograph of her sitting with her boyfriend watching the final of the world cup. She seemed happy. He seemed happier. I smiled and went out and ordered a glass of iced tea. The summer is in and the day is hot and humid.
I sat there wondering with a smile that was trying to prove its faithfulness. “ Does she remember me at all?”- and I heard a voice inside me say-“ Does it matter.” This response was followed by another question-“ Will I ever be able to forget her?” And again a voice inside me answered-“ Does it matter.”
She has every right to forget me in the same way that I have the privilege of remembering her. The heart has its own logic. I believe that both of us have a great understanding. Still.
In the evening as I sat with a friend over a pint of beer, I saw a young couple cuddling in a corner and once again I was reminded of her. And of course her man.
“ Is he the right man for her?” – I found myself asking this question. I had read somewhere that her family had accepted him so he must really be a nice guy. But I can’t accept him. I know that. I am not that large hearted. “ So would that mean she rejected you ‘cause she has a small heart?” – The voice inside me suddenly raised this question.
“ No. She rejected me ‘cause I had a small heart. A heart that was incapable of love. Its her kindness that she broke it. For it opened me up. Yet, right now I feel as if I need to break it again. With my own hands. Its not right that even after talking about my love being so pure and true I fail to accept the man she loves. Why is it that I can’t accept the person who makes her happy? Maybe my love is failing me. Maybe I have failed my love. I should learn to accept him.”
All these thoughts are going through my mind as I sit and talk to this friend and suddenly I tell him –“ You know I love a woman who does not love me. But it doesn’t matter. I feel her presence in her absence…”
He likes what he hears and says so.
How pretentious am I? Am I not merely fooling myself? He is definitely a better man than me. Maybe she could see through me. Thank God, she is saved.
I gulp down another pint of beer sitting with that faithful smile of mine. And suddenly the music sounds louder.
And I find solace in Ludwig Wittgenstein.
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