Oppenheimer

Nitisha
Nitisha
Jul 24, 2017 · 1 min read

Destroyer of worlds

It’s strangely apt that even defining a relationship with you would require the father of the atomic bomb.

I look back at all our happy memories and it seems like everything was going well, all were perfect, until it wasn’t. It started with small things — missing skype calls, off and on banter, a flirtatious word here, a possessive gesture there. We took no note of these. We were too excited to be bothered by a tiny kink on the way; too starry-eyed to know that these kinks ultimately led roadblocks. So engrossed in the thoughts of the future, we failed to see that there was none for us.

The missed calls gave way to long radio silences, the quips became stinging jibes, possessiveness evolved to distrust. I tried to hold on, trust me, I did. But how could I, when you were my strength and you were slipping away from me, bit by bit?

I was the one who walked out, but you made the decision to not follow me.

All that love, all those promises — all burnt to ashes. The smiles and the touches are lost in memories. I struggle now to remember the sound of your voice, I can barely see your face when I close my eyes.

I now understand why storms are named after people. A hundred kisses and a thousand tears later, I ruined you and you destroyed me and all that is left is the wreckage from our love.

Nitisha

Written by

Nitisha

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