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Words To Begin The End - A Short Story

One short story from the book of short stories I am compiling


Chapter 1 - Words To Begin The End

She sat there, staring at the blinking cursor on her screen, lost in her thoughts, losing track of time. The timer went off.

Had it been an hour?

It can't be, she thought.

She had set the timer knowing how difficult it would be to get started on this project. After all, this is the beginning of the end that had already come and gone.

She took a deep breath. Her fingertips touched the keyboard.

Yes, it's time. It's long overdue.

Writing has been her one faithful companion for as long as she can remember. It had never let her down. Pouring her heart and soul onto the screen in front of her, writing to the universe has been her saving grace.

It's her elixir.

It heals her in ways she could never explain to anyone else. Watching words appear on the white screen soothed her. And it's time. She is ready.

It all started a little bit more than two years ago.

She thought it was funny how it all started with a few excellent, charming, captivating words, ending with nothing but silence.

Two years ago, unexpectedly, she received an email from someone. He had looked for her and found her writing. His words were sincere, atleast that's what she believed. Instead of replying, it was new years eve; she texted his number asking if he wanted to go out. She had plans for that day. But that email, that email came in as a sign.

A few hours later, she found herself lying on the couch with her head on his lap, talking about the importance of communication and relationships. They have been talking and making out for hours. His kiss was sweet, and his touch made her feel safe. He was handsome, charismatic, and said the right things. She asked him to stay as the time was already 3 am. He stayed.

The next day they went to breakfast, followed by a walk in the nearby mall. They walked into a gallery; while she walked around looking at the paintings, he stood there chatting with the owner holding her coat and purse. She turned around and looked at him. Fondly.

She was in the middle of one of those life storms when they met. She did not know that her fears were projecting. She took comfort in their first conversation. She had told him that if she does anything that bothers him, please tell her so that she can improve. She knew her weaknesses. She knew she would make mistakes. She felt relieved that she could say to him openly about them and seek his feedback if she made mistakes.

He traveled a lot. She was fascinated by him, edging towards love. She liked spending time with him. Knowing they were starting, she asked him if it was ok for her to drop by. He told her that she doesn't have to ask every time; he will say to her if there is an issue. She felt relief.

She opened up, her vulnerable side, her nerdy quirky side, and her heart.

By the end of February, she felt him pulling away. She did not understand what was happening. She asked him if she was doing anything wrong. The more he pulled away, the more she wondered. She didn't know that her questions were being looked at as insecurities, that she was asking him if there was anything wrong was pushing him away. She could not understand why he would not talk as they agreed.

"I think we should take a break." He said.

She was shocked and asked him why. He told her that she was insecure and had not given him space.

"Why didn't you tell me that when I was doing that?" She asked him.

She had no idea she was doing things that made him want to run and distance himself from her. She trusted everything he told her. It was never her strong suit, figuring out if something is wrong once someone is close to her. She chose to believe their words as she wanted to trust them.

The next few weeks were the most challenging weeks of her life. As he distanced himself, told her that she meant nothing to him, she had already fallen in love with him. He did not walk away completely, neither did she.

But she stayed away as much as she could from him. She couldn't let him go. But she thought if what he wanted was her to be gone, she will.

Months passed, events occurred—hard and harsh events. But he was there. There came one day when she asked him if she still meant nothing to him. He said that was said a long time ago, and it's not like that now. She believed him.

The days following the phone call, she went over the two years prior over and over. She lost her mind over labels and harsh words. By then, only two sentences mattered to her.

"Do you love her?"


She had always put him first; maybe that was not a good idea. But it was how it was. The only thing that mattered was letting him go. She was grieving when difficult words started pouring in. The fine line between her holding things together and falling apart got broken. She fell apart. Shame and guilt drove her insane.

She became someone she abhorred.

She wrote to him wanting to talk. But she also knew there was nothing left to talk about. She knew him well enough to know that there would never be a conversation. Not a truthful one anyway. Sometimes we can not comprehend things. The one and only thing that was left was to move on. But she had not hit rock bottom yet. It came to a while after. As she walked back into her home from the hospital, she knew she was done. All that was left was an apology letter written to him.

She sat there staring at the words on the screen. Tears ran down her cheeks. But they did not come from a place of sadness. They came from a place of peace. She had never wanted to be someone who would chase a man or stay somewhere she was not wanted. It was the only thing she had. She forgave herself for the messages and emails. She asked for his forgiveness too. She had accepted the lesson life was trying to teach her.

The Music Stopped. The Piano Is Nothing But A Decor Now!

"I am nobody.

I don't belong to any nation,

I don't belong to any religion,

I don't belong to any political party.

I am simply an individual,

The way existence created me." – OSHO.

There was nothing more for her to write. Those lines were written to her by him when they met. She could not think of a better way to close the chapter than that.



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