Love Story

It didn’t hurt anymore. She’d gotten used to it. The screams just died in her throat these days. All that remained was this constant ache in the heart. And a sense of betrayal that refused to die down no matter how much her mind thought otherwise. He had loved her. She was conscious of the past tense every time that sentence came up. Had loved her. She doubted if there was any left now. She had always believed that a heart that loved cannot hate. If hate comes in, love tiptoes away. Unheard, unseen, but felt by the heart. But she stayed on because she still loved him. Inspite of everything, she did. And she was not going to give up. She also believed that love conquers all. She was also conscious of the foreboding in her heart that something was to go wrong. Very wrong.

He hated himself. Not her, but himself. He hated his dependence on alcohol. He hated himself everytime he hurt her. Physically or otherwise. He longed for those wonderful times they had spent with each other when he was not the monster he was now. The laughs, the long never ending sweet nothings…her smile! He could not remember the last time he had seen her smile. He had loved that smile above all. Now all he found were tears. And fear. There was always a fear in her eyes. He sometimes wished she wouldn’t take all that he did and just leave. But she never let go. He loved her more for that. But somehow, that could never stop him from having that one last drink.

They found their bodies the next morning. She lay crumpled at the foot of the bed, the bedstead streaked crimson – crimson like the floor beneath her. His body was hanging from a rope tied to the fan – looking down at her, asking for her forgiveness and loving her more than ever.


3 thoughts on “Love Story

  1. Shucks! Ain’t story got to have happy endings. Ok..I shall take the task and rest goes….

    The main gripe of her was that she was short and could not reach for the string tied above to dry wet clothes. Since the guy, high and unsteady could not help her she was constantly bothered of having to wear semi-wet clothes.One day she tried to turn the tables on him. She drank his only mix of bloody mary. Alas! she didn’t expect to passout as she had no prior experience. The tomato juice with vodka gargled out of her mouth giving rise to the crimson streaks around our face. The guy having left with no booze, regained consciousness and tried to dry the perennial wet clothes. Unfortunately for him string snatched, and he tried to restring it using a rope.In this confusion the string gripped around neck, which caused him ingrated scratches. But in the meanwhile this was misinterpretted wronly by a passing peeping tom neigbhor who immediately fabricated this story.As the husband and wife woke up they found the difficult in each others job. She let him to drink and he bought her a dryer. They stayed happily thereafter.

    Moral: Never let peep holes in the house.


  2. TY – LOL! Thanks! I hate sad ends too, but..this story wove itself like that, couldn’t help it. 🙂

    Manoj – 😦 enna panradhu! story apdi dhaan!


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