QB Short Stories

And Once Again, History Will Repeat Itself

“It wouldn’t matter a few years later honey. Maybe it would but it wouldn’t hurt this much.”

I lied to her. I have been in love with this one woman for over fifteen years and I know it for sure that I’ll love her till the day I die. To be honest, though, I think I might love her even after that. It sounds weird but is somehow true. She’s been standing up there for a long time and I have been trying to get her to come down but she is simply not ready for that.

As much as I remember, until two weeks ago she was the happiest person I had ever met. More so, she wasn’t probably the happiest person I had ever known but the strongest one. She has definitely had sorrows in her life. Sorrows that might have surpassed any other individual but she is different. She has always been different. Not many a times have I seen her break-down. She does break a lot but doesn’t really show it as much even when she wants me to know. In all these years I have found a lot of bad things about her too but then maybe the good ones overpower or them or maybe that she loves me so much in all times, good or bad is what makes me love her for all of her too. Be it in her happy times or sad ones, angry times or excited ones, I have learned to love her so much. More so, I too have bad times. Just the way she does. Everything that has changed in these two weeks has affected me to the same level as her but she has yet managed to bring me through and make me work all through it. After having given every bit of strength, to me, though, I can see her break bit by bit, every day.

I was a firm believer of the fact that pain gets healed with time but now that I really have come face to face to with pain, I can say it with an utmost belief that pain which really wrenches one’s heart does not get healed with time. Instead, the bruises go darker with time. They get more intensified every time you look at them with the hope that they might have started getting better. That is exactly what’s been going on. Every single day now, she wakes up before I do, prepares us some breakfast, does everything she is supposed to, also the things she isn’t supposed and wakes me up just the way she has been doing since the day we moved in five years ago and then got married two years ago, with a peck on my cheek. As I take all my time to get to my senses is when she is all ready to leave for work. She says goodbye to me while leaving for work with a wide smile on her face and that, she knows it well, makes me smile. I know it very particularly that she works at her best all day and comes home to me with a giant hug even when she’s exhausted to her toes. Nothing has ever made her change the way she is. I know that nothing will ever make her change the way she is. For the way that she is inexplicably the truth about her. There are a lot of flaws in that way which lie to a lot of people but that too is a truth about her.

There are so many things about me too but then isn’t it a little weird to be talking about your own self in a good way. I know it clearly that she loves me a lot. Vividly enough by the fact that I hear her cry every night after she thinks I’ve fallen asleep. I hear her sob and talk to herself, blame herself for everything that happened, sometimes crave herself to a hug but never ask for it and yet be a smiling face again the next morning, just for my day to be an amazing one. This is the reason why I never let her effort go in vain. I always try and remain happy the way she wants me to. Every effort that she ever makes is to make me believe that everything is perfectly normal and beautiful so I can be a smiling soul all day long. Anything that ever puts me down is very well taken care of. There are things she knows nothing about and thus, can do nothing about, even then, one thing that doesn’t change is that she always stands by my side to be with me.

Today, I am trying to do the same. I am trying to be her shoulder to cry on but she probably thinks that if I see her cry hard enough that she isn’t even able to breathe, I might think of her as a weak and distressed damsel whom I might stop loving because of those things. It isn’t that I love her only for the strong and smart wits of her. I love her for the weird person she is at times, the one that makes me laugh but the very next moment would make me talk about the big things in life. I love her for all the parts of her, irrespective of when she is happy or when she is a mess. Everything has been signed up for because that is what we are all about. Never has it been that I had been a mess and I had not found her by my side. Even if I stand against all odds, I’ll always find her standing with me, trying to face more than half the storm by herself but making sure that she at least faces half of it with me. She is always there, holding my hand, letting me know that whatever happens, she will always be there and I will always be the winner of her game. In all of my happy times, she has been happier than me, be it a great success or simply my birthday. She always has a wider smile than I do. That shows is extremely well that she is here for a lifetime, not for some selfish motives. Having spent fifteen years together is big evidence to that, though.

She has been standing up there, at the platform on this hill for a long time. We took this trip in the beautiful valleys to set our minds off of everything. All of that pain needs to be washed away and be left in these valleys before we leave for home. God knows what is she looking at in the sky full of dark clouds in the night time, getting all wet in the rain. I know she’ll come back in a while or so but I just don’t want her to be all this sad. We are definitely leaving tomorrow morning. I think its only for the best that we both get back to our work. We love it. Everything we are doing with our lives is something we totally love and adore. Maybe that will bring her happiness back to her. She hasn’t let mine be stolen for she takes care of it that I smile wholeheartedly every single moment.

But for the thing I know, I’m going to make sure that I drive tomorrow morning and this is one of the best drives that we’ve ever had. Under all circumstances, though, I am unable to understand how to make her accept it and not be guilty about everything that has happened in the past few days. How am I supposed to make her understand that we both lost something very valuable? Definitely, she feels it more than I do but how do I really make her understand that the baby that we lost was not her fault. It wasn’t because of her that we lost the little child that we might have had even the little fall that she had, had not happened. I love her for everything and would have loved our baby as much. But I know one thing, we surely will have one sooner or later. For the one thing that I know is that I want to spend my entire life with her. I want to have babies with her and then, years later, be sitting on the porch with our grandchildren playing with us both.

I do want all of that. I’m sure she does too.

I am home. It’s been three years that I wrote this page in my little diary that she had gifted to me to record all my favorite days in. the question that I am now asking is that how am I supposed to not let myself be guilty of having lost her to the valleys. How am I not supposed to think that had I held her hand on that mountain real tight, she would have been alive today, sitting right by my side, with me, having a child and be taking care of it, along with me. I know she doesn’t want me to be thinking that way. just because I miss her too much, I made a decision to adopt a baby girl, that we always wanted and have made a decision to raise that three-month-old all by myself. I’m sure that one day, when she’ll be grown up enough, she too will stand by my side in every part of life, just like her mother did. I’m sure she will come up to me, hold my hand and tell me
“Daddy, everything is going to turn your way. You are the hero of this script. Trust me, you will win the battle and be the winner of every game we’ve ever played on that X-box.”
She’ll smile at me and say those words with a sassy wink, just the way she’ll be told, her mother used to do it.


Shubhrika Dogra

Shubhrika is an emotional person and portrays that in her words. She is a coffee lover and hence an intrigued writer. She loves to play with words and twist them as much as she can, that is her way of writing. But mostly, she loves creating suspense in her writing. She would never let the real story come out until the last part of her writings. Writing is her life and her heartbeat.
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