Where Did We Go Wrong?


There I stroll among the relics of the vanished gates of affection, wandering between the reactions of that now pallid love, thinking about how unscrupulous our choices might have been and how things could’ve changed now had we not been so egocentric.

It’s quite ridiculous how a relationship can extraneously desist into complete bareness because of an ostentatious move a partner may commit.

You know sometimes I look back at the past two years I’ve supposedly spent with her and I hardly try to scrutinise those tiny bits of stuff we’d shared, in a pathetic attempt to come to a satisfactory conclusion about it all; were we meant for each other?

I know most of you –especially those who are currently in serene relationships will go like, ‘what you had wasn’t genuine enough’ and ‘if you truly loved her you wouldn’t have given up on her’, but here’s what, I did love her.

Say this sounds cliché, but she did purloin every inch of my thrashing heart, and I venerated her existence to the topmost levels. I’d never revered anyone like her before, and although it’s been a long time we’ve broken up, but questions still irk my head till this running night.

The only cogent reason I could come up with to analyse what happened is that people do change.

Maybe she wasn’t just the same person I thought she was two years ago when we’d first met.

Maybe she was getting sick of the tedium of sticking with one lone person all this period.

Maybe it was me.

Maybe it wasn’t anything.


All I know is that she’s been an ingrate person to me ultimately, and in due course I just realised how puerile I’d been all this time long.

How infantile I was not to ascertain that it was all so frivolous and staid.

And you know what? No, girls are not all the same. Some are dolts, and others are factually mature enough to know how to perform and render their relationships interminable.

So this is a cry to all of you out there living the most of the moments with your partners and enjoying them, do NOT quit, and hold on to the ones you love, keep on making them feel unique and special. No matter how many times they’ll take off your piss, argue with you over the most ludicrous concerns or make you feel unwanted, never attenuate and relinquish them out of your life, because once they’re gone, it’s you who’s going to seize the blame.




Strange how obscured emotions find their routes of languid escape out within the most feeble situations one encounters. How the evenness of an aesthetic and affable bond could just miraculously morph from something so poignant and sentimental to utter ashes and sheer remnants. As if tolerating what was left in the aftermath of the over-idealistic turmoil of feelings was vain, like we’ve lost the most petite inkling of wish that anything would posthumously resurrect from the mass of havoc we’d committed. How what was once envisaged as the elite romanticism was abruptly wrecked down into pure odiousness, and the flashbacks of the burgeoning seconds we’d shared have altered from blissful chants and euphonies to potent and intolerable rackets. How I was satirically under the magic of your saccharine smiles and illusory touches. How callow and naïve you’ve turned the sage prudence inside me. How I deplore each and every moment I’d calamitously worn out with you.