Turning Point?

The many disagreements over lifestyle, over petty lies were then becoming too frequent. Paranoia became an addiction, sometimes sadly, hatred was mistaken for love. Loving too much till it hurts? Now that sentence made sense. I was entrangled in a web. The web of wanting things to be right, while Mr Conversationalist was adamant to show who was wearing the pants in the relationship.

I was sent to the bottom pit of depression when there were too much things on my plate. Sometimes we were happy, sometime we were just too mad. Accommodating each other's feelings became a chore. All I regret was that one step to failing to keep the trust intact. Crestfallen, by all the dramas.

I keep working at the relationship, pushing the limits, wanting it to work. For Mr Conversationalist, to me, he was taking things lightly. Too lightly even. Then even when we tried to compromise, too many other factors start to push in. Career choices even became an issue to uphold. I was worried as we were approaching the career-pathed stage. I was progressing and sadly, he does not see the urgency. Mr Conversationalist was too laid back. I need to "baby" him into doing researches and to edge him into the right direction. He sees that as me, doing my best, nagging!

With all the problems that were piling up, I fell under pressure. Tears became my company at night and "worry" was practically tattooed on my face. Nearing 3 years in the relationship already and I felt tired. I was not having the same zest in life and it slowly affects my career. I fell ill, affecting my attendance, swollen eyes became an accessory all due to the nights that I spent crying for the relationship.

Our families did not know of the fights that we were frequently having. As both relations were close, we did not want to spoil any of that, thank God for that, at least. But as things or life might have it, one fine day, while I struggled to make life work, he decided to pull the trigger on me, again. Clubbing with his group of friends and coming home to me was not a good combination, especially if one lied about his whereabouts the initial night, especially.

I threw in the towel. I had enough. He wanted to be carefree as a bird with his friends, yet come home to a sweet loving girlfriend, waiting for him, making his bed and to "baby" his life, he was just not going to have it. With a heavy heart and an angry mind, I took off. Back to singlehood, or so I thought. I "recuperated" my feelings and acted fine in front of all. Making them worry was not on my agenda. It was painful for me. To live life on my own. But only me was going to face that, my responsibilty.

As I started to slowly and painfully move on from the depressing relationship, I found that little bit of confidence that I lost. I thought I could manage but till one fine day I received a call, surprisingly from Mr Conversationalist elder brother when I was shopping in one of the malls, weeks after the separation.

Amidst the crowd, we exchanged pleasantries over the phone, expressing our "I-miss-yous" and god, was I excited to hear a familiar voice from his side of the family. But did I not expect when he dropped the bombshell on me.

Elder Brother: "Listen, I have something important to tell you. Are you ready?"
HurtFemale: "Yeap, what's wrong?"
Elder Brother: "Mr Conversationalist got into a road accident and is now in Emergency Room. Can you please come here?"
HurtFemale, with tears streaming endlessly after hearing the news: "I will be there in 20mins."

I stood in the middle of the mall, tears streaming, not caring when other shoppers took a quick look at me and looking puzzled. I was too shaken to have any reaction. I was overwhelmed with sadness and fear. Too many what-ifs ran through my thoughts. The friend that was with me, shooked me out of my daze and as I told him, he instructed me to inform my family members and whisked me off to the hospital.