The timely intervention


After an exhaustive day, I looked at the mirror to check on my skin “status”. Less than a gallon of water a day makes my face sad. Puffiness under my eyes, two zits on my cheek and eyebrow. To top it all my complexion just dropped two scales on the fairness meter. I had no zest to wash my face and moisturize it. My limp body wanted to hit the sack. Thoughts actively established themselves. They were too adamant to leave my side so that I could fall into sleep.
After what seemed like an hour of tossing and turning in bed I sat upright. My past overwhelmed me. What seemed like stress unfolded yet another enemy called regret. I sat with my notebook open, to get relieved of the thoughts lingering in my brain. Tracing back to the nebular days of my relationship. Everything seemed wonderful, I had found the one to whom I could confide anything and everything. I was at peace with myself. I had not initiated a love relationship. I was happy with the friendship he extended.
Within a span of two months I found myself moving in with him. Things moved fast. I did not occlude it. I convinced him to stay with me. We built a love shack. Immense pleasure and happiness adorned it. We lived as a couple, taking an active role in each other’s lives. After a trimester, our paradise hit rocks. His dream got shattered and his friendships started interfering in our relationship. Raising the point was a mistake I made. He wanted to part ways. I held to the relationship and cajoled him to give it another shot.
A year together made us a strong couple. I decided to follow him to his dream destination.  Being a complete failure at his career,  he called off the relationship. I was shattered. I had no life left. If he had not decided to leave me I would be cuddling with him, burying my dreams for his. It was a timely intervention, from the almighty as I like to believe, which changed my course of life. I took notice of the downward spiral I was falling into and held on to my passion to rescue me. Now here I sit, writing this blog, happy that I am doing what I love rather than waiting for someone to get over his obsession with TV series.


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