entanglements

I remember my first love very clearly. Because even at the age of 25 it's my only experience of real, unwavering love I ever felt, and I was 15. 
It was a very pure, childish love. It felt like the love you see Ryan gosIing and Emma Watson have. Before that  I rarely talked to girls. But Hannah was very different. She was as tall as I am, she had brown hair and black eyes . She wasn't very out of the crowd. Just another 15 year old girl. But she was my Hannah, and we loved each other dearly. She laughed, a lot. And her laughs were very funny in itself. She liked yellow lays and was better than me at pac man. For 2 years we both were happy or so it seemed. One sunny afternoon of My 17th year, she told me that our paths will not end in a great place so  the best thing for us to do was break up. Break up for her meant being free and getting a life she wants. For me it meant  holding onto memories and crying mostly.  I can't blame her though, I guess I did for the major part of my life. Only now when I can't sleep and  stare at the ceeling blankly I realise maybe it was my fault. 

I meet Hannah sometimes. I feel awkward but she always handled it smoothly. It wasn't that I didn't date after breaking up with her. It's just that it never felt quite the same. I even dated a girl for the sake of dating. I broke more hearts and regretted some more. But somewhere the Ryan gosIing in me died. Sometimes I feel I don't have the level of maturity to actually hold onto someone. I miss Hannah to be honest. I still wake up to nightmares. I feel very empty but it's like I can't do anything. Everything is out of my control. I read books, watch movies, listen to songs but nothing fills me. I dated a lot of girls but I couldn't get those butterflies I once did. I go on walks with no end in my mind. I walk for hours sometimes, with no great thought on my mind either. I just do it. And it doesn't feel weird to me. My parents visit me sometimes and they tell me they have looked for a girl, now that I have a stable job, but I just say later and put it aside. I feel like I don't want to hurt any one, any more. 
With all the free time I have. I spend them thinking about life and death. 

We used to listen to the beatles a lot. We went on kareoke dates and sang along to the remastered version of Norwegian wood, even though I liked the original . Nowadays on my I-pod, there is no sign of beatles. I guess I read it somewhere that song evoke memories, and just add onto your already pathetic emotion. Even my favourite author changed. I guess that's what changing means. I meet a lot of my old friends and they tell me I've changed. I never knew what to say to that. 

All of our pasts somewhere haunt us. We regret some mistakes we made and wish to go back and change them. Regret is inevitable. But the happy ones, if there are any learn to cope up with the dichotomy of existence. 
The more painful thing is knowing what could've have been and accepting that it couldn't. And it's like a big worm hole, getting deeper and deeper. As we think about them more and more memories, vivid even after so long, come to us. And what we feel at that instance of regret and a state of uncontrollability, is nothing but pain in its more natural form. 

Why isn't pain accepted for what it is. Why does religion have to make it something else while philosophy and spirituality something. Why can't I experience pain and it doesn't have to be a life changing, lesson teaching bullshit.
Sometimes I feel God was made up by some people to make life a little hopeful and less painful. And that is what this world is. In my mind I believe we all were in a world with no pain but when we sinned, as punishment we were sent to Earth, to experience this world and pain. 

People pretend that they are friends, when infact they were brought together by force of circumstances. When the circumstances change the relations too snapped. As if nothing ever existed. As if a relation, a person wasn't destroyed. As if it didn't matter and it always happens. The indifference hurts more than anything. Life goes on. The world around forgets. The world forgets that you ever even existed. Then where do all those forgotten memories go to. Where do all those moments go. Those sleep less nights. Those inside jokes and laughs. Where does time that went by go to. It's something I think about a lot. But again I think about a lot of stupid things a lot. 

I keep returning to something haruki Murakami once said, Suddenly one day you become Men Without Women. That day comes to you completely out of the blue, without the faintest of warnings or hints beforehand. No premonitions or foreboding, no knocks or clearing of throats. Turn a corner and you know you’re already there.That’s what it’s like to lose a woman. And at a certain time, losing one woman means losing all women. That’s how we become Men Without Women.

I guess I have become one of those, who never saw the sun rise. 

neil




This was a fictional work that was in my drafts for a while. Deeply inspired by men without women by haruki Murakami and RK Narayan's Bachelor of arts, this story is from the perspective of a man who thinks about emotions and the questions of life while the  memories of his past blurs his senses. 
This type of writing is very new to me, so this is a very raw and experimental project. 

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