Yours unreasonably

Dear Aman,

         You must be surprised to death to receive my letter. Someone who had banged the door on this relationship for apparent no reason, today is writing to you. I know after donkey years of staying away I'm trying to justify myself. You can choose to tear this piece of paper without reading further as I tore your heart without knowing further. But knowing the gem of a person you are I know you will give me a chance to talk to you. 

         Beginning from the end, the end that I abruptly gave to our budding relationship. There were upheavals of all kinds happening within my soul. I felt like a broken bottle which you were trying to fill. I felt like sand not soaked in your waves. I felt like the sky abandoned by your rays. I felt empty inspite of you loving me to the brim. I felt shallow inspite of you loving me beyond the depth. Why I felt so? Huh... Why I felt so? Even I couldn't reason this out. But I did feel so was the cause of turmoil. All I wanted to do was draw myself into a shell, bury my clouded ostrich head in abysses of doubt and endless conflict. All I cared to do was find faults and then vaults to take shelter in my unreasonably wrong choices. The mayhem was real but I couldn't see it, believing that you were the cause of it I walked away. My thoughts were menagerie of some sort, keeping me in captive for a long time. 

           Why am I beating around the bush? Let me come out clean. Aman, my love, I suffered from Bipolar Depression during the days of our puppy love. A small name for a hurricane of emotions. I fretted over trivia. I crushed glasses even when things where clear at my fovea. I was unreasonably wrong but couldn't see it. My emotions forayed me at work, at home, at peace and at unrest. I was at a vortex swimming to stay afloat, only to be pulled apart by the turbulent waters. What a wastrel I was, never expressed it to you then. Things lay unexplained for unexpectedly many years till I chose to speak about it.

            I still vividly remember the day I banged the door on your face and accused you disdainfully of being unfaithful. For days, I slouched on my feelings of pseudo betrayal. I imagined your office colleagues swaying in your arms, pecking from our choicest collection of wines. I could visualize you splurging on them and living to your heart's content. Unable to bear the atrocities of my hallucinations, I decided to walk on the railway track. A train of thoughts accompanied me, dispersed with high doses of illusions. Don't remember which exact moment an angel, lunged at me and pushed me off track. 

           That Angel, Aman then helped me see light. She then helped me gather the shrewn pieces of my scattered conscience. Talking about her would need a series of letters, only then true justice be done to her enigmatic personality. For till day, I too have not understood her fully. 

They say, tradegy only adds piquancy to a tale. So is my life's story spiced up with dollops of interspersed tradegy. 

         I realise, life has moved now and so have you. This letter is not to justify my irrational outburst but only a way of asking forgiveness if I deserve any. I have pledged to dedicate remaining of my life in being a stick to the one's in quest of light. I don't claim them to show light but will walk with them till they find one. This letter in true sense is the closure I'm seeking from the person who loved me most. While saying, I feel I'm walking on thin ice but definitely this time I won't be broken. 

For I have our unrequited love and a clear thinking, to proceed. If this piece still adorns your hand and the ink is blotchy at places, I know you still love me. But this time I will not claim over it. Let the careless wind carry the saga of our love to a distant land where it will build a bonhomie of its own.

       For all the things good or bad, I found reasons to label it. But today I'm proud of the fact I have no reason to love you but simply do so. I love you for nothing and will always for everything you did for us. 

Yours unreasonably,

Aashini.

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Author's note: This is an attempt to draw light at the sufferings of survivors of Bipolar Depression who find no reason in grief and sadness yet devour it as if all good reasons lay at the root of it.