Unfulfilled

#7

Rishu had given me a note. I remembered. I had stuffed it in my bag to read in peace later. I dashed off my bed and went straight for my bag. I frantically moved aside  the flap and started flipping through books. A roughly torn paper fell out of one of the books. With trembling fingers I opened it. Mom took it and smoothened out the wrinkles. Dad sat beside me as I put on my pretty purple specs that Rishu gifted to me when I became an ARMY. It all feels so far away now. The note held Rishu's handwriting but it was simple and neat at first, as if he was writing it at his desk with his reading glasses falling off the bridge of his nose and his ancient lamp casting an eerily beautiful glow on his sweat lined brow. The other half of the letter was clearly scrawled in a rush probably with the pen he kept at the door to write notes to Didi before his morning practice. I closed my eyes for a moment to envisage all the best moments Rishu and I had. Nothing could change that! Nothing!
"Dear Gargi, I never understood your obsession with letters and notes and handmade stuff but I think it's easier to express when you cant do it face to face.
I am writing today because you've slept and its 2:30 am and I'm not selfish enough to wake you up. But I do need to tell you what I feel before I brush it under the carpet again. I'm so tired Gags. I dont know how much longer I can do this for. I might not even be able to complete this letter if even one more thing goes wrong. I've locked dad in his room and put Didi to sleep in hers. The knife looks so tempting right now Gags. It would look beautiful while sliding across a vein. I'm trying very hard to let it be the vein in my father's throat and not the vein in my wrist. I've been holding on for so long for Didi and you. I dont think they've come up with the units to measure love and the efforts one puts in for it. The thought that one day my hardwork will pay off, Didi will be an influencer who'll invite us to her channel, we'll be shipped in her comments section, our wedding will be vlogged for our Insta pages and I will officially be an in-law of the only family that feels like mine, is worth the trouble sweetheart. But sometimes I falter, I get weak. You've gotten me across most of these moments, hopefully this letter helps me get through this one ....." The well written half of the letter ended with those words. Well, he did get through that night but will I ever be able to get through any night without thinking about the pain he was in. I was his hope. I was his anchor and I was the last ship he saved before going down. He loved me. Not just as a friend but as his future, as his sweetheart, as his forever. My fingers traced my name penned in his handwriting. I then raked them over the scribbles at the bottom. "I cant hold on anymore Gargi. I'm sorry." That's it. All that strength, all the hope, all the future plans summed up and killed in 8 words before he killed himself.
Yes, I know now. It was a suicide. My flame extinguished itself.
The letter was photocopied and handed over to the police. His belongings were donated or hidden away by me. The letter stayed in my diary along with all the things I could only confess to him in ink.
Rishu loved me too. He loved me enough to write his suicide note of unfulfilled wishes to me.