SUMMER

He was finding it hard to breath again, his chest tight all of a sudden. This had been going on rather frequently for about two months. It took him a while to really realize why this was happening. At first, he thought he was just in a deep state of continuous melancholy, maybe early stages of depression. He would take a couple shots if available or just try to fall asleep. He didn’t think too much of it because after all, ‘Melancholy is the default state of most people, the human condition’ he thought.

Soon he grew wary of it. He wanted to be without this pain that seemed to hurt physically too. With time he started to notice the pattern and soon understood why this was happening. It was because of her. He had met her at the start of summer, a year ago at a friend’s birthday party. A few exchanges of words and he felt ‘this is a person I could see being a part of my life’. He didn’t have a lot of friends- female especially- so this was a thought he rarely had. Over the coming days he would get accustomed to her over texts, things going better than he could have imagined. She was a lively person, well spirited and a great sense of humor. She was a smart girl and had this element of pride that he liked. Not the cynical kind, but the kind from a person who had a vision and knew it. One that was bigger than herself. She was also a very selfless person.

Over the next few weeks, they would go out together on a number of “dates”. They weren’t part of a culture that really recognized it as such but in a western context, that’s certainly the right tag. There was no dull moment with her. She always knew how to keep the ball moving and put a smile on his face. She was alive. And so was he.

He soon grew addicted to her. To her words, to her presence, to her mind. He was 19 and one may argue that at such age, you don’t really know what love is, you haven’t really experienced it but that’s what he felt. He felt in love, or at least as close to “in love” as he had ever felt in his short life. The more the days went by, the stronger it felt to him. He would want nothing more than to wake up to a text from her. He’d talk to her at night till she fell asleep. He even had a custom notification for her on his phone so he never missed a text or kept her waiting. The talks continued, the dates continued and soon the summer was over. It had been as good as he could have ever hoped for, a perfect summer.

Lucky for him at the time, they both went to the same school so he was optimistic about the resumption. Its easier to meet and run into people on campus. There’s less logistics to hanging out here. Things should only improve. So, he thought. Somehow, he started seeing her less frequently. He got less texts. At first this didn’t really get to him. They were in school now, both in their final year and there was a lot of work to be done so he understood. But over time it would get worse and almost unbearable. From talking every day, he was hopeful to get a text once every other day. Soon he would run into her in the streets of the school and she would give him no more than enough time to exchange pleasantries and go on with her day. He couldn’t understand and could no longer focus on anything. Those close enough could tell that it was eating him no matter how well he tried to hide it. On one faithful Sunday, he felt it was time to confront her. He needed answers. He knew she wouldn’t meet with him so text was the only way to go. He sent the text, which read along the lines of needing to know why all this was happening, because clearly, she must know that he is hurting from all that’s going on. He got a reply, a bit quicker than he was expecting. She let him know she couldn’t do it anymore and she gave some heartfelt reasons as to why she had made that decision. He couldn’t remember them anymore. After all they weren’t important, at least not to him. All that mattered was that it was done. In the moment, he felt at ease, almost relieved. He knew he needed to walk away from what this had become but he also knew he was never going to have the strength to walk away from her. He had been happy with her and didn’t want to return to where he was before. After all, how could he, with all those memories inscribed on the inner walls of his head. It hurt to be in the state he was but he somehow believed in the light at the end of the tunnel. ‘No good thing comes free’ he thought. But now she had done what needed to be done and for that he was somewhat thankful. But soon the relief had turned to anxiety, anxiety to despondency and despondency to mild depression. He missed her. A big part of his life- probably the biggest- over the last four months was out without a trace and he had no say in the matter. Over the next couple of months, it got better but still lingered over him like a cloud every day.

With time, he learned to let it go having phlegmatic or mildly positive thoughts whenever his mind wandered that way. After all, it was a wonderful summer. No need to taint that image. He still thought about her a lot though, more than anybody. He felt this could be a sign that this wasn’t truly in his past, but they weren’t negative thoughts so he dismissed the idea. Slowly he started to find himself feeling very anxious and moody from time to time, like he had a weight on his chest. These would come whenever he thought about her extensively every now and then. Over time they became more frequent. No matter his mood, once he thought of her, no matter how positive the memory, it would start acting up again. Now here he was, looking at himself in a bathroom mirror four months after that faithful Sunday, with a heavy chest, teary eyed, wandering if this ever goes away. If he will ever be able to tell himself that he is happy again. If he will ever forget as the tears streamed down his cheeks for the first time.

08-04-2020