I don’t want to resent people their happiness or their lives.
I don’t want to resent that they have what I’ve lost.
I generally overlook it, make light of it, and move on.
And I hope they don’t notice; because I do wish them well. I want them to be happy and together and whatever else they are.
But sometimes that twinge of resentment fires up and I curse my fate. And I ask why me!
It’s close to a three year mark that he’s been gone, and some recent events have fanned the mood swings a bit. It’s no one’s fault really – just the way things are.
It started when I went to a relatives house recently. Thankfully in the last 3 years this hasn’t happened to me. Or maybe I skipped it for so long so it hurt more? I don’t really know. But anyway, me and my in-laws spend some time at this relatives place and I’ve gone there for the first time ever. So has my sis-in-law. And in this community they have this custom that when women come to your house and they are taking their leave you put some haldi-kumkum on their forhead and give them some rice, betel leaves, a coconut, and a piece of cloth. It’s seen as a blessing for prosperity and a fulfilling life.
So big surprise – windows don’t get it.
And I sat there and watched as they did the custom for my sis in law and didn’t even look at me once. And I sat very still – because if I’d moved I’d have cried. Big fat tears – that I drank in instead.
I’ve never felt so left out. And I think it’s just cruel.
And you know what – they handed me an envelope of money. As if money could replace what they’d just deprived me of. I took it, politely, said my goodbyes, went home and ripped it to pieces. Good riddance.
It took some time but I stopped fretting over it. And then I went for a family dinner….
And I’m going to look really bad here. Coz I’m cribbing for no reason. It’s no one’s fault really and I can’t expect – and I don’t even want – people to treat me like a delicate flower. But I’m being over sensitive.
So anyway.. I went for this dinner.. and everything was going fine. Then the stories started. People ribbing my brother and sister in law on how they met in college.. how they got together and got married…
And no one spoke about gaurav and me.
Does that sound stupid? That I felt bad about it? That I still want to tell that story? That I want him to be on that table and tell everyone how he first kissed me in the middle of the night on an abandoned road?
I don’t resent them their story. It’s a great one. And I was a part of it too… But I don’t want our story to be forgotten or sidelined. I don’t want it to be that gaurav never existed. I want to talk about him. I want his baby to know what a great guy he was. And how will the baby know if there are no stories. If everyone forgets?
It’s weird crying over these little things right? But I can’t help it. Maybe coz it’s that time of the year again.
It feels like yesterday and it hurts like hell!