The place where I met myself.

Sometimes I even dare myself to drink black coffee without sugar, just to check if that or your love is more bitter? Well, it has still not helped me get sober from the hangover of your love.

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“I need to go there, right now!” my heart kept repeating this as I ran. Ran towards my bike, and off I went, to that same place I have been going to since I was 18. My friends introduced me to this place, it was a grassy downhill road that led to a small river. Since then I have been coming here, my heaven. This place knows me, it has heard every secret, every deep thought, every silly tantrum, the drunk music from my lips, just all! This place, knows all that I couldn’t tell people. All about me, all about the people in my life, the good, the bad, the scarred and the painted. But today I ran, I ran to make sure, it was still the same, not the place but what I felt for the place!
He came, and with him he bought new colors to my summer, new warmth to my winters, and a new shelter for my monsoons, but things were changing when he came, and that change went unnoticed, until everything fell back to its original being. Original? Well things were original, like my sofa was the same, my college was the same, the park I went to was the same, ice-cream outlet was the same, the theatres were the same but what I felt about them was different now. It was as though I gifted a 4 year old brat with charcoal in his hands, a beautifully decorated wall and allowed him to scar it. Change is so weird, when it is in our favor and we are happy with it it goes unappreciated, but when it goes against us and pains us, that is when it gets our attention. Love came and love went. I don’t repent the going of love as much as I repent what I allowed it to take away from me. As a parting gift, I gifted all the happy memories these places held before he scarred them. The coffee shop I sat in peace, now when I enter, the waitress asks, “You alone today? Where’s sir?”. The sofa I sat on and listened to my favorite music, is now stained from the tears I cried all night. The diary I held with love every night and wrote our stories on, is now sobbing in some corner, all covered in dust. You ripped me of all I had, and these places too. I would forgive you but would they? Everything is just so same, but still so different. My feelings for these places is like a cacophony of paradoxes now. Sometimes I even dare myself to drink black coffee without sugar, just to check if that or your love is more bitter? Well, it has still not helped me get sober from the hangover of your love.

But now as everything is changing, it’s difficult but I am coping. Today, as I went to the coffee shop, and faced the same question, I ran, ran to go and check if there was a place left where the old me was still alive. I just wanted to make sure, you and your memories have spared this place, hoping its untouched by the poison of your thoughts that sting everywhere I go. I push these thoughts aside, as I was about to reach my place. I ran through the meadow till I reached the river. Panting, I tried to take a deep breath, and first time, in a long time, I felt alive. So far I was breathing, simply inhaling and exhaling the flashbacks of your existence, but today I took a breath, a breath for me. It felt so much lighter. I was glad this place still had it, it was this place that would introduce me to the old me; my last connection to rebuild her. This time a more better her, the best version, with a bagful of knowledge and wisdom. It stood true that the best lessons are what life teaches, no school can match that.

Somewhere, when that brat with charcoal in his hands painted the wall black, he forgot that black was my favorite and I would redecorate the wall with contrast colors; such that it would make an elegant masterpiece.

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