The Real Life

The Real life

In Real Life , you don’t let go of people as easily and effortlessly as the fairy tales teach you. Or as letting go of a balloon on a crowded luxury street, where you don’t even notice the balloon you just let out.

In Real Life, it’s much harder, more painful and more mind-fucking. It takes away more sleep, gives more paranoia and makes you imagine worse things than you could be doing on drugs(if you are like me, a paranoid druggie). 

Then you yell at that someone, if things are still fine and he calls you or takes your calls.. but like, in most of the cases, you text them abusive stuff and then they text you back a mere “grow up” or similar. And it infuriates you and then you begin contemplating, and begin regretting, regretting him more than the texts you sent, and the abusive language more than ever giving him a chance when you never even found him close to attractive.. and then you sit up and think – I thought I was better than that, I thought I would let go gracefully, I am not immature, how dare he call me that.

And then these things run on loops in your head, over and over again… till its 5am.. and you are frustrated to not be able to sleep, and whilst all this, he is fucking her, or she is fucking him, or they are dead asleep or texting each other or there is a new prey…. Why am I even thinking all this, I know I don’t care.
Then you keep having these make-believe situations in your head of the future, of the surprise run-ins, and it never fucking ends. And you don't wanna think of that old part of your life anymore, but here you can't stop. You regret even letting it be a part of you for as long as you did, but you can't still stop thinking..

And insomnia, gifted to you… this is what happens in Real Life. In the Real Life, there are no gracefully, with poise, letting gos. We are humans, if we get hurt – we abuse, if we get hurt intentionally, we hurt them back. Even if I come from the Land of Gandhi, I am not Gandhi, that is why there was only one, Mahatma!

In the Real Life, you never receive flowers, or texts or incessant phone calls till your heart melts, no guy runs after you when you walk away.

In Real life, boys don’t come running back to you in the middle of the night, don’t sneak in through your window or buy you chocolates or sing you songs or hold your hands when you are mad at them, they don’t pick you up and scare you till you start laughing and forget whatever made you mad.

In Real life, They just leave and never say a word to you again.
And you have to make that choice to let go and never look back.