Chapter 4: That hurt, huh... her silent grief and redemption
The sun warmed up every person's heart except hers. Drizzles and rainy days that forced her to carry an umbrella filled her with the desire to beat up someone, with the umbrella, if availed the chance. In a bespoke grey suit and Louboutin's embellishing her dainty feet she strode into the deathly hospital. The path to his office was taken unconsciously, as if the 5 years together had programmed her to take it. It was the path she joyfully sprung through when taking him home-cooked lunch and supper in case he works during the nightshift. Previously, the deathly environment never deterred and her frustrations about the conditions of the hospital were poured out to him sometimes. They talked everything from politics and management to literature and anime. He loved anime and she caught up on the trend not because she wanted to please him but because she similarly found them interesting.
A mix of laughter, optimism, relief, and shreds of pain, hopelessness and defeat rang through the corridors. Yet the laughter that seemed to squeeze her heart and slice through it originated the office that she was accustomed to frequenting. The laughter elevated the questions and episodes of self-doubt that kept bugging her. Was she not good enough? Maybe she wasn't beautiful enough. It could be that her cooking was too plain. May be she should have been more servile and welcoming in bed. Or she could have toned down her career. Or maybe the manner she talked was too hurtful. Or he could have noticed her hidden insecurities. May be she was too strong and should have toned down a bit and got gentler. Or may be a little more makeup, a little bit shorter and revealing dress and a bit of femininity would have kept him. May be if she said sorry and apologised countlessly, he would come back.
She had called and even called his current fiancée. She begged him endlessly to come back. She insulted the fiancée and asserted her dominance as the first. And today, she was in his office to beg him one last time, before her pride crumpled down for good. However, the scene before her caused blood to rush in her head. She lashed out and knocked the woman's head on the table before slapping the man holding her in his arms. The reaction of the couple afterwards was surprise before the man took a protective stance, staring at her with contempt. Their eyes that seemed to laugh at her got imprinted in her mind. She went berserk and grabbed the umbrella at the side, the umbrella that she bought him and ensured he kept it at a visible place for his good. The umbrella was turned into a weapon. She threw the once happy woman to the side and proceeded to rain blows on the protective man. She was not angry at the woman, but rather at the man in front of her. She was angry that he did not have the courage to break it off once he got another person. She was angry at his childishness and actions that ended up humiliating her. Yet she was also angry with herself for letting herself be lied to and for loving, for loving a person so much that it hurt. For loving him so much that she could kill for him. And again, she was envious of the other woman. The woman who got the man she assumed was hers; the woman who reminded her of the fact that unless they had a registered marriage, she was just an experiment or passer-by that could be abandoned anytime. Anger, envy, humiliation and gloom glowered and manifested as an angry woman who grabbed a pen-knife from her hand-bag stabbing the man on the shoulder and slashing the man's fiancé's neck when she tried to interfere. Her grip on the man got strong and each stroke and stab got lethal, lethal enough to kill. Frenzied and unthinking, the man she had now straddled lost consciousness and remained a rag doll dancing between life and death.
Her thought process was pulled back to her house where she was now staring at some photos on the laptop blankly. She turned the photos upside down and went to her bedroom to change into a dull green bespoke suit. Time was running out, she had to hurry to work. She threw sports shoes on her feet and walked to the bus stage which was one and half kilometres away. She preferred taking a bus as opposed to driving herself. The thought that maybe he left due to her carefree attitude flitted through her mind and was crushed down mercilessly. She had developed a habit of speaking positively and shunning from self-blame.
The sky was beautiful, dazzling even. The sky blue was dusted with fluffy feathers of white and green leaves and red flowers on tall trees created a path for this mind blowing scenery. Her heart was coming to terms with her single hood yet there were moments where she thought that if he came back she would forgive him. When he did not pick her calls, her prideful self stopped trying to contact him. She insulted him and even killed him in her head. She had even thought of going to his place and calling his parents, but she was a woman without courage. She had given up completely when she got admitted to the hospital for severe joint pain and put on pain management. She could never cry or mourn before getting to hospital; she didn't do so afterwards either. She was just disappointed that she could love to the extent that her body would hurt. But she welcomed the physical hurt more than the emotional hurt. She did not know where to take all these emotions; all these weaknesses and moments of vulnerability.
They said that time could heal. But for her, time was not a consolation three months down the line. Opening up and talking to friends lessened the burden but it did not lessen the hurt. She laughed with fellow women about their roller-coaster love lives. However, she could not let go easily and no amount of desire to hurt him and insult him could lessen the pain. Sometimes she despised herself for worrying about him and wondering if he is happy. Even when her best friend called him scum and admonished her not to ever think of him, she still could not extinguish her love for him. She understood women who did what they could to keep their relationships and marriages. She finally understood why women did what they did. She could not speak for them but she could not judge them even if they killed the person they love because every person loves differently.
She had searched for answers months after the break up. His answer was ridiculous. It was a 'have cake and eat it too' kind of answer. It was so fickle that she did not know what to do with him. The supposed closure she wanted and needed so much was reduced to one sentence 'I don't know, I think that maybe it was because I could not go because you are more of an ideal wife and I never imagined that the situation would escalate to the point it did at that time'.
Her redemption and the end of her grief were three words, a train ride and silence. May be she had already made peace with herself then. It was a simple conversation that did not ask for details or offer grandiose comforting words because the final comment was comfort in itself. It was healing without the effort to do so. It was as simple as
'You have a boyfriend?'
'No, we broke up'
'That hurt, huh,'
'Yeah', she smiled lightly and went back to Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Ikenasio
Ikenasio When writing this, Emeli Sande's Maybe kept ringing in my mind
'Maybe you could stay a bit longer
I could try a bit harder
We could make this work
But maybe we should stop pretending
We both know we're hurting
Maybe it's time to go'
On that note, this is the second last for this series.
I never imagined that all these emotions would fit in more than one thousand words or more than a chapter. I started and just kept going. The series are not series as such but chapters that take a glimpse of our daily lives and the emotions we could all identify with. That is why the character (s) are nameless.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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