Tanmay--
(At that night)
My energy is spent for today. I'm so tired. I don't even have the strength to put my phone on charge. I am lying on the bed finally comfortable, yet sleep refuse to come... Ah..this illness of overthinking . The day itself was good. Badminton. Lunch. and productive discussion about contract agreement. I didn't mind Shreya's comments about me, (Heartbroken lover, fool or anything) she's straight forward person. Truth is truth. But last part, when I said I want to stay alone peacefully... it's core requirement right now. I've never put myself first.
I always regret that how honestly I loved that one person, and what I got in return...Now there's nothing left in my heart. Just a Hollow stone.Prachi (my ex-lover) was the only person with whom I dreamed of successful life. A Perfect love , my own start-up business, Countless romantic trips, a warm and spacious home, two children, and a future that felt secure and bright. Everything seemed so perfect. And then one day I lost it all. It felt like I survived the earthquake. Everything had collapsed, and I was the only one left standing alone, holding the broken pieces of my dreams.
And that whole process of so called love relationship started and ended played in mind again.
It didn't begin as love.It began as responsibility.
Prachi lost her mother when we were in seventh standard. I still remember the day — the silence around her, the way she stopped laughing overnight. Her grandmother asked me, helplessly to stay around her. "She feels alone". I was a child myself, but I took that sentence seriously.
Friendship came first. Then habit. Then attachment. I was happiest when she smiled and laughed on my jokes at that time forgetting all painful things.
And somewhere along the way, love quietly bloomed.
By eighth standard, she was already part of my everyday life.
By twelth, she was my world.
Up until then, it was innocent, puppy love. School, tuition, rides on my scooter. I dropped her everywhere: school to tuition, tuition to home. I knew her schedules better than my own. I remembered everything, her birthdays, her mood swings, even her period cycles. Once, I even remembered the birthday of her house-help's son, because she mentioned it casually.
That was how deeply she lived in my head.To me, Prachi was beautiful in a way that felt unreal like big eyes, long hair, soft pink skin. Like a Barbie, She called me her big teddy bear. I didn't mind. I liked being her soft, big teddy whom she can hug anytime.
After twelth, we became official. But even then, I treated love like a responsibility, not entitlement. I never encouraged her to cross physical boundaries beyond a kiss. Not because I didn't want her, but because I believed some things should wait. After marriage, there would be no holding back. Until then, I wanted our relationship to have dignity.
College passed like that, four years of degree, two years of master's. We grew up together. I was always there for her, and she always listened to me. We are there for each other.through family chaos, through her complicated relationship with her father.
Her mother hadn't just died, she had taken her own life. Cheating, neglect, loneliness, that's what broke her. Her father, Ashok, had another woman ( stepmother-Rekha). He never brought that woman home, never forced Prachi to accept her. Sometimes he stayed with Prachi, sometimes with that woman.
Later, when the stepmother behaved kindly, Prachi accepted her. There was also a stepsister. They didn't live together, but met during festivals.
Through all of it, Prachi had me. Always.
Then we started working in job. I had been in my job for three years, planning my startup quietly. She pushed for us to travel with friends. On one trip, we finally grew closer. Hugs, kisses yes, that happened. But even then, I held back. Not because I didn't desire her, but because I wanted our relationship to remain graceful. I thought that restraint meant something.I was wrong.
When Prachi spoke to her father about marrying me, he refused immediately. Status mismatch, he said. When she insisted, he dismissed me as a man with a low-paying job and no future. I met him myself. I told him about our bond from school, through her darkest days. I told him about my startup plans, my confidence in building something of my own.
He didn't listen.
Instead, he introduced her to Abhinav , a family friend's son. Handsome. Rich. Already managing his father's business. A perfect match, in his eyes.
Then came the sentence that destroyed everything.
"I never interfered in your relationship," her father told her.
"For the sake of family, do this one thing. Date him. If you don't like him, I won't force you."
She agreed.
She didn't tell me.
That's where the nightmare begins.