a strong feeling deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.
Doesn’t that mean I’m supposed to feel something? Doesn’t it mean that I shouldn’t feel so blank all the time? Doesn’t it mean that now, when all my friends have left me, and my parents have disowned me, I should be sad, or angry, or frustrated, maybe even a little relieved, anything, ANYTHING?
So then why, why does it feel like I’m just a blank canvas? Why do I just feel numb? It's like when you try and cover a crack in a bottle with a bit of tape; it will eventually burst, and often sooner rather than later. You can’t seal a chink in your armour with a band aid, it will fall apart. So, what about me? When’s my bursting point? When do I finally fall apart?’
“This was a page from my diary exactly 2 months before I met you. My life was bleak and desolate, I had no purpose. But then, I met you, and suddenly I was going on drives at 2 in the night, stealing candy from the corner store, watching the sun set; and I remembered what it was like to be alive again. I remember how you made me watch all your favourite movies even though you knew that I would hate them. I remember us watching When Harry met Sally together, and I told you how one day I wanted a love like that, to know what it was like to be looked at, and loved like that; and then next day I found a box of my favourite cupcakes with a note attached to them, saying- “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
I remember how I made you watch The Fault in Our Stars and we laughed at them, saying they were naïve and delusional, to think that their love would last; until suddenly a month later that was us. And I said it back, when you told me that you liked me so much, it was almost love. And it was. We were in love, madly and relentlessly/dangerously/recklessly in love.
You were it. You were it for me. You took my blank canvas and made it your own. You took me in and made me feel like a person again. You made me feel.
So Happy Valentine’s Day my love, and thank you for always being a part of my journey. And maybe ‘I like you so much it's almost love’ will be our okay.
ps. It’s you and me forever, remember that.
I shut her journal, wiping the tear that escaped from the side of my eye. It's been 2 years since the accident, and I still can’t let go. That’s all I’m doing, holding on. I feel empty, numb…. like a blank canvas almost.
Author: Adwita Chaure