This might as well be one of the worst times of my life. One year ago I would have never imagined my life would turn out like this. Don't you ever wish you could turn the hands of time? If I could have, I'd never have been in this mess. I know God would never give me anything I can't handle, I just wish he didn't trust me so much.
I'm Sarah. Been in love many times, heart broken only twice. It hurts, you know? It tears you apart from the inside. It makes you cry until you run out of tears. Why? Because you're the only one left holding on to this relationship that the other couldn't care less about.
Shavez, my love. My life. My everything. I would have given him all the happiness in the world, if only he had let me. And he knew that very well. He knew I was head over heels for him. That he could break me as much as he wants, and still I'd come running back to him. He told me he loved me, so why did he go away? The sad part is that I'd still go back if he ever asks me to.
I once heard that you shouldn't regret anything that once made you happy. He was the only one who made me smile in a period of tears. I was so shattered at that time, so torn, that I had lost almost all hope. Hope is the most needed thing to live. Without it, there is no way a soul can survive. I needed something, or someone, any reason to live for. I had none. Nothing.
Huzaifa: the one person I had trusted so much, the only person who had loved me beyond my imagination was not mine anymore. I had cried, I had begged, I had apologized, I had done everything possible to get him back. But no. His heart had moved on. Too bad mine hadn't. Just when I thought I couldn't do this anymore, Shavez came.
He changed everything. I started waking up again, thanking God for life. I had started smiling to myself, singing to myself. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he said my name. It was beautiful, wonderful, a miracle. There's no other way to describe it, but in the simplest words all I can say is, I was happy.
I remember all too well how it started. Early night, late evening. The sky was turning from purple to black. I talked to him that day. I had my eye on him for some time, and we had had causal conversations before that day. But it was on that day that our relationship began. It almost hurts too much to remember it, but its true when people say to get over something, you have to seriously let go. You can't cling on to memories. You can't still hope that it will be back the way it was before. It's gone. You have to accept it.
I still remember how he told me on the first night, holding my hand, his eyes in my eyes, that he'd make me forget Huzaifa. That he'd never let me go. That he'd make me happy again. He promised me a lot of things. He didn't necessarily keep all of them.
I was forbidden by my family to meet him. Everybody warned me against him. But being the rebel I am, I didn't listen. I used to risk it, and sneak out to meet him. We'd both climb up to the roof, and stay in each other's arms for hours. Nobody, just us and the rainy nights. I would worry the whole time, whether someone would come and catch us. And catch, they did. But I didn't care. I would risk it again and again. Just to be with him. It was obvious he didn't care about me that much. But a human believes whatever a human wants to. And in my case, I believed he loved me.
The third night, when his lips came in contact with mine, I had the best moment of my fourteen years. It wasn't his lips that made me feel that way, it was him. I was the one who broke the kiss, but I can assure you that I enjoyed it much more than him. Since then, he would always steal kisses from me. While I was in the middle of a sentence, while I was looking away, while I was staring at him, he'd always lean down and kiss me. There's not a day I don't miss those rude interuptions. I was so, so, so unbelievably happy with him. I had no where else I'd rather be.
Yes, and there were times we did more than kissing. He would slip his hands under my shirt, trail it over my spine, and I would shiver under his touch. Some times there are memories you can't put into words. Words are narrated by humans while moments are written by God. Nothing can describe what we had together. It was magical, and that's all I can say. I wanted nothing else.
We had bad times as well. Of course, everybody does. But what mattered is that we both wanted to be with each other. My brother had taken my phone away, and locked me in the house. I was withered without Shavez. I had to do something, so I'd sneak someone's phone with me and talk to him for a few minutes. It was worth it. When I was utterly depressed, a sound of his voice would spark happiness in me. I didn't know it, but I was falling in love. This time, it was different. I didn't just want Shavez, I needed him. Without him I had no reason to live.
Everything good has got to go, and then came the time I was dreading. I had to go back. I was in vacation, and as September arrived, I couldn't be there anymore. I told myself I wouldn't cry, but one sentence he said released all my tears. He asked me, "Are you really going away Sarah?"
When I heard him say that, it became a reality. I had to go. I couldn't stop my sobbing. I was so scared that he'd move on if we became long distance. But he promised me that he wouldn't ever let me go. He promised me that when I'd come back he'd be standing in the same exact spot as now, and welcome me. So I left, I had to. But I left with hope. One thing from our last visit stayed in my mind for ever. He didn't kiss me.
Twenty hours later, I arrived in New York. Mumbai, monsoon, and Shavez, were all thousands of miles away from me. The first thing I did when I came home was sprint up the stairs, and call Shavez. I don't recall exactly what he said. But I remember how good I felt after hearing his voice. That night, I didn't cry.
I called him every day, even though long distance calling was pretty expensive. We would talk, laugh, love, and talk about meeting again and again. We didn't drift apart, but a doubt settled in my heart. I started wondering why didn't he ever call me? Didn't he care? Was I just a time pass to him? Didn't I matter?
Looking back at it now, I was stupid to have ever doubted him. But at that time I was so worried. I decided not to call him until he acknowledged me. One day passed. I checked my phone every second or so. Every slight vibration, any sound, and I hoped it was him. He didn't call. Just when I made up my mind to call him, my phone blew up with his ring tone. Twenty times. He called me twenty times. All my doubts were erased. I trusted him.
Months passed, autumn turned to winter. Leaves fell, and snow started to stick to the ground. I loved Shavez, and he loved me. But that demon in me wouldn't shut up. I started posting mean statuses about him on my Facebook wall when he wouldn't give me time. I knew I wouldn't be able to live without him, but I guess I liked getting him mad. We started fighting on the phone. I would cry, and he would always forgive me.
I remember how I told him one day, while we were fighting, that he didn't love me. He told me if he didn't, he would have disconnected the call a long time ago. That one line is still engraved in my mind. And, of course, I didn't forget that time when he spent three hours with me on the phone, explaining to me how much he loved me. Still I didn't believe him. I would give everything I have right now to go back to that time.
Sometimes I still go back to our old messages to read his love that was expressed all through his writing. I was blind to have overlooked that. I don't know what I wanted, all I know is that I loved him, and still do.
All the mistakes I made were forgiven by him, until that one mistake which broke us up. I cheated. On Shavez. It wasn't exactly cheating, but I broke his trust. Why did I? I don't know. Like I said, that demon in me wouldn't shut up.
Since that day, I killed our relationship. All we had disintegrated. He drifted apart. He changed. I didn't know who he was anymore. Nothing made sense to me anymore. I cried so much. I let him insult me. I let him disrespect me. I apologized, and I truly meant it. He wouldn't accept it. He didn't spare me five minutes of his time. I was so scared. I knew it was over. I messaged him on Valentines Day for a break up. All he said was, "Okay." He didn't care. The Shavez I knew was gone. My love for him wasn't.
Nine days later, on February twenty-third I called him. He cursed me out yet again. I never thought I'd allow a guy to disrespect me so vulgarly. I never thought I'd love a guy who didn't have an ounce of respect for me. He called me the worst thing a boy can name a girl. A prostitute. He told me to fuck anyone I want. He said he didn't care about me at all. But what the hurt the most, was when he told me he didn't want me in his life. That day I lost hope. I was back at square one. Even worse, I was much hurt than I was at the beginning. He had been my ray of moonlight that slowly faded away to the darkest abyss.
Forty-four days later, and still Shavez occupied every second of my thoughts. I knew he didn't think about me at all. I knew he was the kind of guy who wouldn't love again. But I called him. He was at the hospital. Family accident, he told me. He said he didn't have time, and to make the call quick. I remember asking him to come back, telling him I still loved him. He laughed it off cruelly, and asked me to please stop the drama. He disconnected without a bye. I didn't call him back.
I sat there, on the red carpeted staircase, staring at my phone, and trying to hold back tears. As the pain registered I told myself I won't break. I'll be strong, I kept repeating. I didn't shed a single tear, but the pain in my chest was unbearable. Pain that is bundled up and stored deep in one's heart, is a hard burden to carry. It makes laughter impossible, but I did it. I didn't cry. I even laughed it off in front of people. But deep inside all I knew is I didn't know how to be someone he missed. Never imagined we'd end up this way.
Months passed. He turned eighteen, I never wished him a happy birthday. I turned fifteen, he never called either. I still didn't understand. Why didn't I just forget him? Why couldn't I just move on? I guess I knew that inside I didn't want any body else except for him. He was the only one who could've made me happy. He was the only one. Period.
It was on a normal day, nothing special, an ordinary Thursday when a miracle occurred. That day my faith in God was restored. Shavez came back. I wanted nothing else, I forgot about all the insults, and all the months that I had lived without him. May twenty-third wasn't it? My eyes were wet with happiness. Not because I was hopeless, but because I had a heart full of hope, and I was worried whether he would destroy it all again.
It felt so good, I could now think about him without experiencing unbearable pain. I could listen to all the songs that reminded me of him without hurting myself. I was truly happy again. Yes, we had a fight in that period of happiness, but it was quickly resolved. He apologized, and so did I.
I spent one month rejoicing him, but I knew it wasn't the same as before. Something was off. But a human believes whatever a human wants to. And in my case, I believed he loved me. He wouldn't reply to my messages, I told myself it's because he's busy. He wouldn't ever call me, not even a miscall, I told myself it's because he knows I will call. It was still all good. He told me he loves me, and that's all I wanted to hear. Even though I knew it wasn't true, those words were music to my ears. I swore I'd never make a mistake again, but unknowingly I did.
Of course, it was Facebook that ended us again. He hated it, and he told me. I, stupidly, sent him a message while he was online. No reply. I sent another message. Seen, but no reply. My heart dropped a little. Another message. He replied saying he doesn't have any interest in talking to me through Facebook. Anger and disappointment fired through me. I called him, he told me to please fuck off.
One mistake, and I had lost him all over again. He was a mine sweeper game, one wrong move, and game over. I swore to never call him again, oh, but of course, I did. I didn't know how to control myself when it came to him. He was a drug, someone I knew I should stay away from. Someone who kept hurting me, but someone I was addicted to. An addiction I wanted to rid of, but that I wanted to keep at the same time. My feelings for him were confusing like that.
The second to last time I called him, he really shattered me like never before. There was so much anger in his voice, so much hatred, so much insult, his voice dripping with pride. I couldn't stand to hear it anymore, I disconnected our call. He was the only guy I knew who stooped so low that he insulted a girl. A girl who loved him more than anyone had ever imagined to.
Through my tears, I called him once again. It rang, and rang. No answer. Once more, I tried. I wanted everything to be okay. But after he picked up, I damaged our relation even more. He told me to please never call him again. I kept asking him why, but he just wouldn't answer. It hurt so badly, to have all and then loose it in a blink of an eye. He said he wants to break up, and to please leave. It's been just a day now, but I seriously don't want to go on like this.
Even after such words, such actions, I'm still in love. In fact, I love him much more than I had ever done before. You never know what you have until you lose it. I know I won't be able to be happy without him, and I know I don't want to move on. I've been told by many people to forget him, but it's not really up to me, is it? Time heals everything. Right now my wounds are fresh, and are hurting the most. I know it won't hurt so much after a while. But I also know that I'll still want to be with him. I know I will go back to him when the pain will drive me crazy. It's happened before, and I have no doubts that it will happen again. I know he doesn't deserve the love I gave him, but if I want him, he must be doing something right. Shavez…Won't you come back to me?