The One that Got Away...

They say, “memories last a lifetime” and at the same time, “nothing lasts forever”… I don’t think that’s true at all. I think, every single thing that has made an impact on you, even for a short while, will live with you until someone makes you a star in the night sky just because they miss you too much. You take those memories, those people sometimes as a hope to keep moving forward or sometimes as a burden over your shoulder that you just can’t seem to shake. 

Which one of these was he for me? My indecisiveness yet again makes its way through the things I was so sure about just yesterday. We were good, he and I. The ones who rarely used WhatsApp became used to that ‘ping’ sound, and the girl who believed in sparks became the one to deny it and for what? Because it was too good to be true, because it seemed so effortless… It was the easiest thing I ever came across, talking to him. And so, the fear of ruining it all got in the way. I didn’t try to fight it. I guess I should have gone with my guts, my intuition. Now that I am looking at it after a few months, maybe this was the lesson he was meant to teach me. To say “hell with it” and go towards my instincts, to take the risk, to invite the chaos. Maybe he was meant to teach me that it doesn’t all have to be so difficult, so complicated. One time or another a good thing will enter your life and you have to accept it without fearing what will come after. 

But being the girl who thinks a little too much about the most trifling things, I was meant to make this mistake. Yes, a mistake. Not taking that risk, a mistake. Shushing away the signs, a mistake. Walking away, a mistake. 

And the moment I realized it, I tried to make the wrongs right. A whole different city, one step in front of the other, a meet that took just a little longer to happen. I saw him outside waiting for me, his always oh so charming aura wrapping mine in the best way possible… I swear I thought about that evening a lot since it happened. To put it in simple words, I suppose that evening was when I felt drunk even before the drink touched my lips. Every once in a while, I pass down the same street we walked on, crossing the road and I am the worse at remembering addresses, but I remember his. Ironic, isn’t it? 

This is it, I guess. I told him I would write about him and I months ago but I didn’t have enough courage to put a regret in words and call myself out on it. I have always been the one that gets away but, in this chapter, he was it. He is the one who got away and I am the one who let him…

I guess, this happens to all of us, at least once. Sometimes, you are too late and there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing you can do but sit down with the consequences, with the “could have been’s” and be okay with the chapter that will always be unheard, unseen. 

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