Dear Arun,
I know. I normally start these letters by addressing you as my baby or as my love. But. I'm afraid we're out of time.
It hurts me so much to put these words into writing. We've been through everything, haven't we? All the way from second year of college till now, in Bangalore.
Do you remember how we met at the orientation for the newspaper club? I was sitting with Shwarna in the front while you were somewhere in the middle. I didn't even notice you until the end when we were taking group photos.
It was so strange how things worked out from there. I don't know how you remember it, but for me, it was because you did something really brave, Arun. You made a move. You came over to us. It didn't matter that you didn't know our names, or anything about us. You just came over as you were. You talked to us. You made us laugh. You were passionate, happy. And after we had dinner together that day, after we opened up and talked to each other about our dreams, our journeys and shared in those oh-so-stupid jokes.
I knew I was smitten.
But now, thinking about what I'm about to do to you. What I've already done. It's the exact opposite. I'm about to put a knife in the back of all of it.
It's the coward's way out. I know this.
These days, I wish I had rejected you when you finally asked me out. Even though I got all my friends to give you that push to confess, I find myself in tears filled with so much, damned regret. And when we were done with college, I wish with all my heart that you had taken that offer from Mumbai instead of following me to Bangalore. Maybe the distance would have drifted us apart, one less phone call a week, one more unread message, one more person in your life who makes you smile instead of me.
Just like so many other 'together forevers' from college. Because, after this, I feel you'll have nothing. Nothing for the city to offer you. Nobody to give you comfort. Still, I owe it to you.
As your girlfriend of four years, I owe you closure.
We're not getting married, Arun. There's no other way I can say it.
I'm sorry. But I can't disappoint my parents. They're both getting older and I'm scared for my mom because of her diabetes. You know this. You've met them. You also know that they are good people. They're not to blame for this.
I am. I'm the worst, most selfish girlfriend in all of history.
Because I'm cutting things off with you. With my best friend, my love, my everything.
All so that I can be the ideal daughter my parents need me to be. The perfect, eldest child that won't disappoint anyone. The fictional story made real for my little brother and cousins to follow.
You know. I probably won't find much genuine love in the guy they've found for me to marry. I've seen photos and talked to him over the phone. He lives in the USA. One of those startup guys you always find hanging around dinner parties and conferences.
Cliche much, right? After everything, I'm leaving you, just so that my mother can one-up her friends at tea. Because now, she has an NRI son-in-law.
But he'll take care of me. He assured me of this. He assured my parents as well. All my needs, my wants; he'll handle them. I can even study further in the US, once I'm on the spouse visa. Hah.
Probably, this means that I'll have to pop out a kid or two faster than I'd anticipated. I know what you're thinking. I'm being such a hypocrite right? I had given you everything. Everything we could ask of each other as a girlfriend and boyfriend. Everything, except for that.
And now, here I am. Talking about getting pregnant and having children. What a waste of a way to give away that one little thing. Giving a precious gift away to someone who probably doesn't love me.
I'm sorry.
I don't know, Arun. This is probably a lot to take in. But I guess it doesn't matter now. Not anymore. Please don't hate me too much if we meet sometime in the future.
I'll probably be a mom then. It's just that, it won't be for you.
Sigh. I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. More than anything, you deserve a clean break. You need me gone. Forgotten. Maybe I'm telling you this so that you'll hate me. If I tell you exactly how I've betrayed you. What I've done. Then, you'll see me for who I am.
A useless coward and. And just, such a terrible, terrible person.
I know you won't forgive me. But please.
Forget me.
Trisha.
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Arun opened his eyes.
He felt strange, and wondered why. What happened last night? Had the city's cricket team, Royal Challengers Bangalore, finally won a cricket match? Had his HR manager finally stopped hinting that the 0.001% hike in pay was a tad too generous from the company?
After a few seconds of his half-asleep brain cogitating, he realized what it was.
Ah yes. After so many days, he hadn't woken up feeling that it would be nice if the ceiling fan fell on him. Rather, he felt a sense of kinship with the fan. Like him, it spun and spun and
spun
. And it never seemed to be going anywhere. But at least, it was hanging on.
He stared for a few moments at the lazily spinning blades, hypnotized. 'Besides,' He thought 'The air conditioner was running anyway -'
Wait - The
A/C?