With cotton pads and antiseptics I sat in front of the unbearable truth. I was strong enough to look at myself on that shattered mirror. Now I don’t see romantic images anymore. I used to see me sitting all dressed up and he hugging me from behind. I tried hard to recall those pleasant diamonds he made me wore. I don’t see bouquets of orchids any more, nor do I smell lilies. I don’t see notes sticking on this mirror saying the timings for movies. No black pearls, no abroad tickets. Those days were so beautiful. The best ones.
Rubbing down the blues, now I feel nothing. It doesn’t hurt. It’s regular. Throwing things on me, those bruises from his belts doesn’t affect anymore. Probably this is what I am destined for. Life has given a lot and took more. But I can’t help myself. Why should I? I deserve this. I literally do. Falling in love was my fault. Misunderstanding was all mine. Leaving my parents was the biggest mistake I ever did. I regret now and I just can’t change things, because I am doomed. I am torn, l am all shattered, and I am all blue.
Earlier that day, it was drizzling Sunday. I was sitting with a cup of coffee and he entered. As usual, my heart beat got faster, I had butterflies in my stomach and a cool breeze went through my spinal cord. He sat beside me, I was happy yet uncomfortable; just like other girls of nineteen. My coffee got cold, and we started getting free. We talked, we laughed. It started to rain and we shared one umbrella. I could feel his breath on my shoulder; we were that close. The time spent by and I had the best evening.
When I came back, we started chatting. We knew each other for months so we were comfortable, but when I started liking him it turned the opposite. I fell for him, it was already a month I realized this fact. We chatted for hours and decided to talk over phone. Hours past, then the night and soon it was morning and we were still talking. I never did that before. It was a beautiful night. Gloomy weather, cozy talks, love was in the air. And we were indulged in love wholeheartedly. The best feeling that I had ever experienced.
Soon we got much close; we started spending evenings after class and nights were past the same way. We were in real love, this was what we thought. No one cared this way, the way he did. He was my most perfect match. And that night he proposed me over phone because he was too shy to say those in front of me. I felt lucky. I was on cloud nine. I can still feel the way I felt. Then we went on a relationship and spent 4 years together. We decided to let our family knew. We did; and we were asked to part away because I am Muslim and he a Christian. I decided to leave my family. We got married, I was in sorrow but I couldn’t leave him. We shifted to a new place because none of our families accepted us. We struggled and all we had was one of his uncle who helped throughout. Finally we started living a standard life. I was very happy knowing I was pregnant. I thought this news may help get back both the families. But it didn’t. That made me feel that we were dead for them, years ago.
I am 31 now. All I look up to is my daughter. And the love of my life. Though I lost him when Ziana was a year old. Now I am married to this man, a guy referred by my ex-husband’s uncle. He treats me like a slave, my ex-husband died because of one silly misunderstanding. He thought this guy and I were together, he thought we were dating, he thought I betrayed him. I didn’t; I could never think of doing it. And he decided to leave us. He did, but he died by an accident. I got married to this inhuman. It’s just like a deal since my ex-husband owed him a lot. I was nothing but just a lifelong mortgage. Now all I have is blue in me. I still ask myself, how could he not trust me? And then I learned, love is not strong, it never was. Love is fragile. If parents can end their love towards their children, then why not two people knowing each other for couple of years only?