“How heartless can I be? I broke up with her, yet I feel nothing. I mean I ain’t as sad as I should be. I ain’t crying. I am feeling an air of freedom forcing me to smile eternally. What will everyone think about me? I lost someone, yet I am happy. Is this even justified?”, and I stopped speaking abruptly, pacing up and down my room. I was all alone, speaking to myself, figuring out things which were the reason behind my sleepless nights and unknown fights. 
But this was not the way I could proceed. I told myself to calm down. I slowed down, took a few deep breaths and sat down on my couch. It was warm, yet I was feeling cold. I sat lifeless, staring at the wall blankly. I was tired. I tried to dig in deep within myself, but the fear of the stigma the society had set, held me captive. I closed my eyes, and slipped into the past, the time when me and her were ‘we’. The trip down the memory lane was beautiful, but disturbing. It was just the same as it had been always; her peace over my happiness, her smile over my contentment, her needs over my emotions, her expectations over my love, and her everywhere. I was with her, yet I was alone. I didn’t even have time for myself. I was a stranger to me. I wasn’t aware of anything happening to me, for she took away everything for love. All these thoughts came crashing down in my head, and with a sudden jolt I realised where I was. 
Reality knocked me down, and the silence around me seemed to applaud her absence. I could feel the sound of air reflecting my heartbeat, and the rhythm appreciating the peace I felt without her. It was then I realised that I didn’t lose her, I found myself. I realised that I was unnecessarily worried about the society, for they didn’t even know me. They didn’t know my story, and they aren’t even worth it. I sighed with relief, closed my eyes, smiled to myself and said, “I didn’t lose her.”❤️


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