Death of a relationship

The incessant pitter patter of rain was almost a continuous agony to her. The noise breaking into her line of thoughts; pitter-patter; jarring her nerves! She needed to concentrate. Yes. It was an ordeal in itself. She looked out of the window. Perched on her window seat, the neighbourhood looked sheathed in watery garbs fallen from heaven, all was drenched in doom. She sat alone. On any other day, she loved to sit on her window seat and gaze at the happenings around her. But today was a different day.

The neighbour had forgotten to take his dog in. It was whining in the backyard, trying to crawl indoors, away from the angry, impatient lashing of the rain.

But, she must concentrate.

The howling gusts of wind clanging on her window pane rattled it. Orchestrated by the rain’s incessant, tepid mad dance, it all clouded her thoughts.

Blood! She looked down at the feel of the warm, wet goo and saw blood oozing out from her hand. Her own. There were bits of her skin stuck in the nails. Sigh! The old habit has revisited, like being visited by an old friend. She always gnawed her teeth and scratched (more like clawed) at herself in attempt of concentrating hard. This once, circumstances were in her favour!

She smiled, an action downed in the sarcasm of the deed in itself. Something never changes, for better or worse.

But today she has made up her mind. She needed no further encouragement wisdom, words, empty words. She would end it. She needed to. She had to face her own nemesis! But this disjointed trance was fast weaving, hard to break free.

She braced herself for the onslaught and turned around.

Gloom persisted outside the tiny, dingy apartment. There was an eerie silence as neighbours clamoured for indoor warmth, cats mewed their discontent at the wet and dogs claimed the warmth of the rug for themselves.

Sometimes the pitter-patter, sometimes the mad howl the rain kept everyone company with its erratic demeanour.

She was a rain person. She liked rain. Yes, from the confines of the room but. The muddy street reflected feelings of desolation like her own. On the road, in the rain, it engulfed her, striking unwanted kinship. She felt diminished.

She looked at the eyes that looked back at her, mirroring similar anxiousness at the haplessness of the situation. Eyes that saw her in light she was scared to see. Yes, she needed to end this relationship. It had taken its toll. She did not want the gaze, to follow her, pursue her, enslave her, ensnare her. It has rendered her hollow.

The eyes, the ever watchful eyes! Under their gaze, she has brought about her own undoing.

Sigh.

We need to end this. What we have, between you and me is distant dreams of the past, we are stuck in a limbo. I am here; you are here and yet we are both lost to our former selves from the past.

The eyes carried on with their silent beseeching, scared now! Clearly it understood what was to come. It had to know.

I am through with this. Being vacant! Not feeling. Not knowing. Not reciprocating. Sigh.

The eyes looked on, unflinching, appalled its gaze echoing- what was there not to feel? Not to know? Not to reciprocate? Didn’t we go through this together? Hand in hand?

I want this relationship to end, for us to part. I could pursue what was left undone before. Maybe, take up that art class I wanted. Or the, or the guitar lessons!

The eyes continued with their searching gaze. Searching! Ever looking!

No, I don’t want this any more. I want to be free. To be free of you, your gaze, your lingering gaze. I want to see, feel, know, reciprocate.

The gaze intensified, a steel glint settling in. Aah, but you already feel. U reciprocate. Your very own vacant core, the numbness you feel. You are already free, in your own bindings, lost and free. You know, know just when to want.

She was at a loss, concentration breaking round the seams.

Truly this relationship had nothing to offer. A scalding, vacant arbour, the wreath of her own making. Yet she had stuck by. Nurturing it. Sustaining it. She looked at the road. It was as desolate as she felt. Lonely, gloomy, silent. Like her silent prayers, yearnings. They went unheard.

But she had once loved the sun. The drizzling rain in the sun, sun kissed tears from heaven. The golden hue, the high pitched laughter it accompanied! She didn’t know when slowly gloom had nudged out its former occupant and claimed its place like a stubborn tenant. She shook her head, clearing the haze, mind made up.

The eyes looked on. She looked away. Unable to bear the pain they inflicted, of bygone days, of long lost love, of songs forgotten, memories buried, desires unfulfilled. The pain bubbled over suddenly, swift, sudden and overpowering. It came surging, mounting crest and filling her with delusion, its sulphuric flashes blinding her. She saw her past played out before her eyes like a film strip. She clawed at it to crawl back in. The pain frothed over.

In vain, in pain and in vacant disillusion, she grabbed, writhed and thrashed. The cold steel kissed her at times. Until she felt the cold give way to warmth. She craved warmth. There was red all around, in her hand, in her hair, in her eyes, in her soul. She had failed to face her nemesis. It had claimed her as its own.

She looked back into their depths of the eyes, and for the first in a long time felt, yes felt hope, felt love, felt yearnings- an overwhelming surge of emotions, tugging at her core being. She felt complete. She felt long lost emotions, she was rendered numb. As the blood oozed from her, life rushed back in, replacing its former vacant occupant.

Yes, she had ended the relationship with life to feel it again, love it again, craved it again. In losing, she had gained.

The eyes, the ever looking, searching eyes, dimmed at last and smiled a sad smile as she closed her eyes. They would not look again, at her. To shut them out, she shut her own.