A Relationship With No Name

I still wonder why I fell in love with him. Maybe because he kept his eyes on me in spite of being the favourite of the female majority. No, I was not one of his fans. I didn’t even know him until one day he messaged me. A new phase started then. Our unexpected, yet unending conversations. But not even a hello when we met, just a smile on his face, and that smile was more beautiful than a thousand words. After months of this unending conversation, finally the day came when he asked to meet. He was quite noticeable in a red T-shirt, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was so charming. In spite of the hot and obnoxious weather, everything seemed to be beautiful. Those long walks, hidden glances, wordless moments, yet lots of talk. That was a perfect first meet.

Our bond gained strength with time. We started hanging out and more frequently. One fine day, we were just sitting at a corner. All of a sudden, without a single word he held me tight and kissed me. For those few moments, everything seemed to be paused. That feeling cannot be described in words. It was special because we didn’t constitute a couple, and yet it was beautiful. Even hours after that, we just sat quietly. No words, no expressions. We never said ‘I love you’ to each other. We were not going on dates to the best restaurants or the coolest cafes. We didn’t consider ourselves ‘goals’. We were just ‘WE’.

No person ever had such a huge impact on me. He was a healing to every pain. He was a mending to every damage. His touch was the best touch. I was in love. I had never believed in love. It was his last day in Kolkata, and we were meeting for the last time. He was moving to Jaipur. That was the first time I couldn’t control my tears. It was the first time I cried in somebody’s presence since I lost my childhood. I was a stoic. But he was an exception, maybe. That was the day I realised my love for him. I realised how immensely I loved him.

I never wanted to be in love, but the person who could make even me fall in love had to be special.

I didn’t want him to leave. But neither could I stop him.

He left. We were miles apart. Even the Oxford Dictionary would fail to describe the pain of his absence with words. He made me lose my atheism. Every time I knelt down to the idol, the wish was the same – HIM. I couldn’t believe I could ever love someone to this extent, losing atheism. But it was more painful to know he didn’t love me the way I did, He has a new crush now. I wish I could be fickle like him. No, we never dated. I can’t call him mine. He was never my boyfriend.

People called it a mistake just because it didn’t work out. No, mate, he just let everything go too soon and I held everything for far too long. It’s not that it didn’t work out; it’s one-sided, and your ‘work-out relationship’ definition will never match mine.

For some months after his leaving, I believed I had moved on from him.

But how could I move on from him when I still had parts of me in him? If you have ever loved someone truly, you can never move on. If you have moved on, then it wasn’t love.

It’s almost two years since the day I saw him for the first time. He was never my boyfriend, so I can’t call him my ex. Some relations don’t have a name, maybe that’s what makes them the best of all. It doesn’t hurt not being loved by the one I love the most. It hurts more when he gets hurt. I can proudly say, I love someone who doesn’t love me and I feel no shame in saying this, because this is love. Loving someone, but not being loved back by that person. This is life.