Prose before hos

Love looks like an old friend; who's always stopped shared public transport to bring me ice cream. He doesn't eat sugar anymore so the Sundae was all mine. 

Ten years ago, there was peanut butter caramel ice cream between work. This time it was a local specialty, "Ice Apple Sundae, just try and tell me"

It's about surrendering yourself into the hands of someone who knows the city and knows you. That's the spot where magic happens. "If I can't take you around the city I've known all my life, what else am I good for?" I did the same, I would have done it for anyone, but he always surrendered, always gave in and trusted me. That's why we made a great team. 

Surrender, I did. 

How is it that your old friends know you better than anyone else in the world? My food, habits, fixtures, everything was unquestionably palatable. I was unapologetically myself- unbearable, impulsive, chaotic and loud and he complimented my ways- validated my unbearable lifestyle, and added to the impulsiveness with bad ideas ("Let the expert among us figure where to find a spot to smoke"), he was the calm to my chaos. Made me feel cared for (No, you need to eat dinner, just get something; Let's go to Town for breakfast, it'll be worth it) when I had abandoned myself (I was on ibuprofen, coffee and two Vada Pav). 

When you meet people from back when you hadn't undergone severe traumatic events one after the other, your old self comes to life for a hot minute. Bombay, between work, felt exactly like that. I was on fumes and caffeine but this man and his love for me kept me alive. When I look back, we befriended each other over a work project and little did I know I'd have found myself a person who'd be a walking antidote to my severe depressive state in 2024. "My mum can't make you Sabudana Vada on such a short notice but she's sending yous some Puran Poli you can take home."

I am so glad the butterfly effect of not having to go to the UK meant I met my old friend during this work trip. I realised that I must have done something right in my life to meet a friend who went above and beyond for me years after I dropped nail paint on his bed during our initial work meeting. 

I'm cold. It's 45 degrees indoors and I'm cold. My tummy hurts, everything hurts. I attempt to cry but I'm all dried out. No tears left to cry. 

I finally shed between number crunching when I see his hands. I don't know why I do it. I swear on all things holy, this never affected me, but I suppose I needed any excuse of a reason today. His hands, the ones that were always holding mine, all mine. 

I don't know, something about his hands broke me and I bawled. It's long overdue. I've kept a straight face for over a day and a half and if you were anywhere near me in the last 48 hours you'd know that I was a mess. I fucking hate living through transitions and sitting through dread and grief. I'm grieving his loss. I want to be alone for a while. I want to be jobless for a while. I keep going in circles, I told myself I'd never be jobless but my present self is begging my old self to let me be jobless for the foreseeable future or we'll land up with broken bones in a jumping off the building attempt. I ask my colleague if she'd help make a case for why I jumped. Before she can answer in earnestness she's pulled into a meeting. 

Am I sad because I'm dealing with a narc for a boss? I don't know. I think about how I've lasted over 18 hours working without a single thought. I miss my sister, I reckon it's the real reason why I'm miserable. I've learnt to detach from things like these so why is it affecting me? I told myself through the last weekend nothing matters and yet I keep thinking through how we are breaking everything that is sacred.

I'm asked thrice about how are things with the boy. I ignore that like I ignore all the questions about my well-being and if I need help. I begrudgingly accept help but still don't come to talk about how are we. I feel I'm not supported by anyone including the one who should be rooting for me but that's a P3 grouse. P0 is that I need a new job, P1 is that I need to get out of this situationship and look out for myself.

We wouldn't go a day without talking. Now it's a weekly ritual. We barely talk, we barely even acknowledge the other person has gone missing. I was reading about three stages of situationship, where the third stage is mutual ghosting. I wondered if we'll get there together or individually. Looks like it's happening at once. I want to talk but I'm tired. We also always go in circles. "Oho", "Oh Damn", "rough", "cold" and the last time I brought up my grouses I was told nothing. There was no response. I'm tired of bringing my grouses. I am told nothing and my ability to raise issues becomes an issue.

I miss my therapist but also I think I can no longer afford therapy. When I got to this point, I wasn't able to afford therapy without a job. Today, despite a job, I can't afford therapy. I can buy my sister a meal worth more than 2 sessions but would I plunder that amount on myself to heal? Never. I'm the problem. I'm cold. It's 45 degrees indoors. My tummy hurts, my ribs hurt, everything hurts. I finally cry my eyes out. I've a lot more in me. 

I miss being myself. I miss having hope. I'm all out of it. Except tears, that's a supply which never fails me.