Dear Nemesis,
Please read this letter at a time when you feel that I am gone. I might have not died but gone in much a real sense. I might have changed, I might have no longer been the same person who used to look into your eyes with an anger, that was more intimate than love could ever be.
I am not gone at all, that's why I am here in this letter. My actions do not align with my core anymore. They never did. That, I have been upsetting you for the longest of times, is why I address you as nemesis today. The language of love, kindness and empathy is unknown to me. I speak in anger, complain, despair, jealousy and defeat. I am inept in speaking the right music. More than love, I have deeply felt the fear of losing you. I am so much in fear of the fixed patterns of losses in my path, that I opted out before you did. My handicap would never see the light of change. I would upset you till the point of being strangers. I sincerely apologise for such poverty.
My idea of life was not only wronged but it was attacked. I have rebuilt it a thousand times, and have turned a little darker everytime, compounding to what was reciprocated to your kindness. I have been fighting tirelessly for so long that my core has morphed into a metal clad knight. I behave like the knight even to flowers and birds, because I don't know how to be anyone else. I may have the courage to declare my love for you but I don't have the modesty to admit my love for you.
It was brave of you to be kind to me. I couldnt return the kindness you deserved, therefore, have taken myself away in order to let you be in peace and happiness.
Travesty is that we choose to live in big cities to build an excuse for social suffering, social isolation and loneliness, although they'll all be there in small towns and villages. Yet, under the veil of vulnerability, kindness is rejected by the people who need it the most. I am sorry for all that bad behaviour, my friend.
If I ever write a book, and you read it, you'll find yourself in its entirety, in its title, in its unwritten bibliography and in its existence. There is more intimacy than love, when I write in rage about how highly you deserved and how inadequately I met it.
When you learn my language, please speak to me. If everyone fails you in the soft spoken loving world, please speak to me. If you ever feel like speaking to me, please speak to me. I'm not gone. I am waiting to be good enough for you someday.
May be we can save that one cup of tea!
With
fear and sincerity,
your nemesis

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