A Sunday Morning, Nothing New….but This Time It Was Not True.

A Sunday morning, nothing new....But this time it was not true.

A Sunday morning, nothing new

But this time it was not true.

For the first time did I ever

Dread a day with silent tremors.

The stage had been set from the last night,

To burn my dreams into ashes in front of my own eyes.

โ€œAre you his girlfriend?โ€ She asked.

โ€œI am asking for a friend.โ€

I will never forget that nauseating feeling

That I felt at the pit of my stomach,

Like it was the end of something.

Fingers crossed, I played along for some time.

โ€œWhy do you want to know? Who are you?โ€ I tried.

โ€œIt’s important. Please tell me.โ€, She pried.

My heart sank a little bit more at her urgency.

Terrified I replied, โ€œYes, we are together. Now you tell me.โ€

She didn’t give me a specific answer,

But it was enough to make my heart crumble.

She was going to explain to me the next day,

But I knew that things had just changed.

Tossed and turned, I was awake the whole night.

Nightmares flooding my open eyes,

Our love flashed in bits playing with my mind,

I tried to have faith in you, in us.

But for the first time, it wasn’t enough.

The sun rose, and I cursed it for doing its job.

I was not ready to begin this day,

To take on what was in store for me, for us.

I pushed myself around doing routine work.

With one eye on the phone

Agitated in anticipation.

A few hours later into the morning,

She called to tell me about her friend.

Her friend and I were just the same,

Loving the same guy,

Both thinking we were the one.

The only difference being

She was the first,

And I was โ€œthe other girlโ€.

So, naturally her feelings took precedence over mine,

But can love really be measured with time?

Numb, I was trying to process it all,

When SHE called.

I still don’t know what I felt when

I heard her voice choking in tears.

Was it anger, hate, sympathy or pity?

Maybe everything or maybe nothing.

All I remember is not crying at all,

As she narrated her side.

If only I knew I wouldn’t be able to cry

For many months at end, I would have tried.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t show her that I was weak.

Or was is it because I wanted to protect her

Just like I wanted to protect me.

In daze, I half listened to her words,

My mind already lost in its own thoughts.

I was trying to make sense of it all just like her

Scrutinizing our love lives, little detectives at work,

When that happened which jolted me upright.

When she indirectly called me the slut,

Maybe thinking it was going to be alright.

โ€œPoor you!โ€ I thought, when she said,

โ€œHe loves me and all he wanted was to be

Physical with you since I was not by his side.โ€

I wanted to laugh at the silly girl,

Not sure if I felt hurt or anger or pity for her,

For she could not see what I did

That He was the main culprit.

I wanted to scream and insult her,

But I stopped myself as I remembered

That she had invested three years of her life,

What were my humble three months to that?

It felt somehow, my love fell short of hers,

And so did my agony.

She won by a huge margin at everything,

But I wonโ€™t let anyone defile my dignity.

So, keeping my pain aside, I replied,

โ€œDonโ€™t you see that it was always his choice?

If he wanted any one of us, he wouldโ€™ve really tried

And not disrespect and lie to us all this while.

He had to know what he was doing wasn’t right.

So, tell me where is the love from his side?โ€

Silent for two minutes, she quietly agreed

That the fault was his and not ours indeed.

For every tear she cried, I was blank.

For every complain sheโ€™d recite, I was numb.

For every question she threw at me,

Doubting the authenticity of my love

I patiently answered.

But in turn, I never questioned,

I never complained, I never cried.

For at the end there was no point.

How could I be mad at her

When He who mattered never cared.

I could not justify my feelings to her,

When I myself struggled to understand

If my relationship really happened

The way I had remembered,

I desperately tried to join the dots

To separate his fine lies from my truth.

All I wanted was for that day to end,

The night to hide me in its vast expanse.

That day has been stuck with me ever since,

Like an unseen tattoo becoming a part of my essence.

The vivid events are still etched in my mind,

Like a shadow that walks with me by my side

I have looked back on that day a hundred times

Whenever a tinge of loneliness grips me just like tonight.

I remember it as a witch hunt

Putting me on a stake for His crimes.

I was left to protect my honour from someone I barely knew

To prove I was innocent, my love too worthy of being divine.

I guess that’s where the difference between her and I lied,

For I never put her on trial, respected her pride.

I still remember her voice, her naivety,

I still marvel at how I handled it with dignity.

If given a chance, I would still choose to be me,

Empathetic to someone who saw me as her enemy.

That day I took a major leap in my maturity,

For the tag of โ€˜the other girlโ€™ is a sham, not reality,

To help the perverse act of the coward hiding behind

When He was the one who really should’ve been tried.

Instead they put โ€œthe other girlโ€ on the trial because it feels good

Without realizing that she was hurt too,

Because she refused to garner sympathy at her expense,

But trust me, she has been dealing with it as best as she can.

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