Tumult.

“Everything is not as it seems.”

That probably applies more for people than it does for anything else.

People change in the blink of an eye, just to fit in. to act like they belong, even though, truly, they’re far from it. People change in order to feel like theyre wanted by somebody. . feel like they need somebody around.

Change.

Dad always said, “Change is the only constant in life.” He said that to me first when I was about 7. I didn’t understand the concept then, but now, it hits me like a bitchslapping ice cold hand while I’m nestled in some corner of the Arctic.

Yes, it hurts. Frostbite can kill.

I’m presently sitting at home staring at my laptop screen wondering where all this pent up angst and frustration came from. I reckon it’s from lack of being able to talk to the people I adore. . . my brothers, my parents, my uncle and aunt, my sister. . . my friends back in the city I now study in. . . my friends in Bangalore, who are suddenly out of reach ‘cause I refuse to pick up my darned phone.

I’m happy, on the inside. I’m happy that everything that’s hurt me these past eight months have come to the fore and been dealt with. I’m satisfied. . . relived, that all that pain is done with. It’s over.

Repercussions are a big deal in this world, and I’ll have to deal with plenty of those in about 3 months, but until then, I’m going to soak up the sun. I’m going to enjoy every minute that my home has to offer me, ‘cause we can NEVER tell what happens next.

From 10^th grade, the infamous break-up that nearly ruined me, to 11^th where my father fell horribly ill. . to 12^th, where my uncle lay on his death-bed during boards, and all I could do was pray with all my heart that he’d be okay, while paying little to no heed to my godforsaken books, relying on just one jackass who kept me strong and alive right through the debacle.

I’m reminded, day after day, of the miracle I achieved. The prayers were answered, every time, and everything was suddenly alright. I was . . . alright. I survived. My family survived but that nagging feeling that it’s all going to die soon just wouldn’t go away.

Then, I met two people who pepped me up when I was at the lowest of my lows while putting on this farce of happiness that EVERYONE in college fell for- including the person I expected to see right through it all.

I opened up. Nearly every secret let out, without the tiniest hint of insecurity or regret. It felt so. . . nice. It felt good that I could share and NOT worry about losing that person- how did he manage to do that to me?

Me. The girl who everyone stayed away from ‘cause she has too much attitude to deal with- the girl who everyone was mistaken about, in good ways and bad.

I was the ‘girl’ who stayed away from people- ‘cause people are unpredictable, and I’d much sooner sit and cuddle my dogs than pay attention to someone sitting next to me in class.

If there’s ANYTHING this past year in college has taught me, it is – Do not give up.

Life will ruin you, friends will come and go. People will scar you, and you’ll think a hundred times before so much as getting close to them again. Not the same ones, of course not, but others.

Then, someone will come along and change your entire life. The scales aren’t balanced anymore. The good and bad aren’t equal. One is more than the other, which obviously means that one is a whole lot less than the other. Then, there’re scales for the happy and sad, the hope and lack of. . . scales for everything. . . labels for it all.

I once had a best friend in college that I held dear to me, but things changed.

Changed ‘cause my family got hurt, and in turn, I crumbled. I didn’t handle the situation too well, but it’s all I could do to STOP the pain. I let go. I used all the ammo I had, but then I heard stories that changed my perception of her completely.

People gave me different versions of her stories- suddenly, she was always the victim and I was the predator? After all I’d done? Cleaning up the crap on the floor, washing her clothes and mine when I was ready to drop ‘cause I was ill, shutting up when I couldn’t handle it anymore and walking out ‘cause if I yelled, it just made things worse.

Then having her tell me I ought to yell, ‘cause it’s a lot easier to handle than the cold shoulder.

I was sick of changing. So I stopped.

I acted the way my impulses made me, and I just LET it all GO.

I had a fuck-off attitude perpetually and didn’t pay any more heed to people than was necessary. I couldn’t stand it. I hated change, it made me vile. I turned into a senile wrench, and I made new friends. I let them go, and I do not regret it.

Only later, would I realize, that they went around telling people “Go sit with her, she’s alone.” Without realizing, for a single instant, that I’d rather be alone than have people sit by me, people I considered best friends, on their say so.

By then, he came along. And changed everything.

No, there isn’t any attraction although a LOT  of people believe there is. . . he keeps me happy. Wipes off the sadness like it shouldn’t be there. Makes me hope for a better tomorrow, and somehow, through all of it, makes me a  MUCH better person.

He says I make him exceptionally good, and I wonder to myself- how?

When I’ve fucked so many people over, and people all around tend to hate me. Perhaps I have this misconstrued notion of human beings . . Maybe, I WANT to believe that everyone’s a despicable, solitary, nasty, brutish and short entity put on earth to compel us to belittle ourselves in our own heads.

Maybe, I’m really not that bad. I love how I can make him feel like he needs to be a better person. I LOVE that I can make him feel "exceptionally good". I love that he can talk to me, and I can talk to him. . ..  I adore him, 'cause he makes me want to be a much better person.

In the past four months, I’ve been told, time and time again, “Enough with being nice. Stop being nice to people who do not deserve it. They really don’t.”

I’m naïve. I hope for the best, even if I expect the worst. He keeps that faith alive in me somehow, that faith I somehow lost when everything came tumbling down- when family dropped dead around me, and I had to suck it up and smile through it all ‘cause I had no one to go to anymore.

You come across those handful of people you trust who fuck you over big time, and you BELIEVE for oh! So long that humans really ARE that pathetic.

Till you, somehow, through some miracle, meet those people you CAN rely on.

I can count them on my finger tips, ‘cause they’ve been around since 6^th grade, ‘cause they helped me through hell and brought me back. . . ‘cause of so many reasons I’ve lost count.

I’ll be forever indebted to those people. . .

But for those who think they did so much for me, when in truth they’ve only dealt with my “tantrums” that they can no longer handle, I can only pity their states, and hope they’ll leave those misconceptions they’ve built around themselves, that self-pity they’ve enveloped themselves in, in order to get that sympathy the world offers for they come across as a wounded puppy when, in fact, they’re blinded by the attention-craving, selfish beings they've managed to become.


No. You did do a lot. Thou shalt not deny that.
But please, if you heard me out when I cried out loud only to have to tell a third person how sick and tired you are of me, or that you're through with me without so much as a warning- what am I supposed to believe? What does that say about you?

I wasn’t insecure. But they attributed what they wanted to my state, and I won’t deal with it ‘cause there’s really no point in trying to make them understand when they refuse to.


Correction. I won't even try, 'cause I'm through with trying when it'll only be quashed with chastisement.


I'll just hug my family, and those 2 new additions to the people I love ever so dearly, and listen to them whisper "You're perfect just the way you are." I will leave behind the spite and hurt, the anguish and pain, and pray you'll be happy 'cause you were once dear to me, and probably always will be.


I will hope, with all my heart, that you live contentedly for the rest of your life, because my mother taught me to always be there for others no matter the pain it causes me till it becomes too much to bear.


I will NOT tolerate my family being hurt, but hurt me all you want. God gave me the strength to handle it, or I wouldn't be facing it.

At the end of a long, yet satisfying day, one thought echoes in my head before I can let out a sigh of relief and enter my reverie-

“I am haunted by humans.”

But I will survive, ‘cause there’s so much more to life. .


I love my life, now. I love it with all my heart and I will treasure all I have forever more. Forever.


I'm happy. .


No. I'm elated.


And I found the faith I lost ever so long ago.




I will ALWAYS survive, and I will ALWAYS do better than just enough to make it. From now on, I will give everything my all. . . If not for myself, then, for him. For my family. Lord knows, they deserve it.