From 2 to 100

596 36 36
                                    


Hi- a MAMMOTH update ahead. 

--

I am sure you've heard the old adage 'When life hands you lemons, make lemonade'.

I have an addition to make to it.

When life hands you an all-expenses paid trip to Switzerland, along with a typed-up letter from your ex-boyfriend/ fiancee who wants you back like no tomorrow, you tear it all up and throw it into the trash.

Trust me, your dignity will thank you for it.

The only thing that escaped my rage fuelled ripping session was the dozen roses because they looked too pretty and my hall needed a pop of colour.

But I glared at the beautiful roses in warning as I logged into my meeting.

"You're on thin ice, Roses." I growled.

"Sorry, what?" Tim, one of my colleagues asked uncertainly.

"Not a thing. Let's get started", I said hastily.

While the day passed by with meetings and planning, the corner of my mind which had been shielding me from any Dhruv Razdan content, opened up and began to ask questions.

And boy did it have a lot of them.

Why did he send me this

Why now?

What does this mean?

Is he the one who's sending this in the first place? Was this an elaborate plan by some magazine who was conducting a thought experiment on me?

If by some chance this was him, what did he mean by 'can't do this without you'?

Was he going to off himself if I didn't go?

How would I be able to live with myself if I read his obituary in the morning- all because I refused an all expenses paid trip to Switzerland?

Would I even take him back in the first place?

If I take him back, how would I dare to face the mirror the next day?

So many questions, ranging over so many different topics.

I was ultimately enraged at his gall. Once again, he had thrown me off with the extent of his daring- from telling me it was over, to sending me this care package of a reunion offer- I had to give it to him- he had some guts.

He knew how I'd react to his existence and he still dared to remind me that he was out there.

What ALSO enraged me was why he took this goddamn long to reach out!

Eight frikking months.

EIGHT MONTHS.

That's like a year!

I was finally, finally feeling like life wasn't a dumpster fire, and he was back with matchsticks!

"I am not falling for it", I warned the flowers, before I rolled my yoga mat to practice meditation.

As I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, all I could smell was the roses. All I could remember was the last time I saw him, the day after my birthday. All I could remember was the devastated expression on his face as he walked away from the life he wanted, because of some insane sacrifice that his name needed him to do.

I opened my eyes, stalked to the roses, and threw it out of the window too.

All of a sudden, I felt more peaceful.

Not LikelyWhere stories live. Discover now