"Your hand was supposed to caress me. Instead, you picked up those wretched papers again."
"Even I feel sad to separate myself from you. But don't worry dear, I'll surely be back when I've to write my next story."
"It'll be so long before you need to write again. I don't know if I'll stick around till then. Please, for once, let me become your story too."
"My stories are meant to go away from me and take their place in the reader's heart. I don't want you to go away. Please, just stay with me dear. Stay with me till that next story."
"How can I stay with you when those papers signify something much more than just your story. You're so used to breaking hearts, don't you?"
"I'll mend them all back. I promise."
"And what happens when you finish your next story? You'll again shut me out like I never mattered. You'll again break my heart"
"Your heart? It's that one thing I value the most. Look around you. I've spilled the drops of your heart in all these papers that you hate."
"Is it my fault that my heart cries when your papers give me a cut? Is it my fault that I've started to hate these papers?
"But no. Enough is enough. I want you to choose today which paper you want to pick up. Your stories or the divorce papers."
"These are the same stories where I've laid your heart open. If I keep them, I'll keep some of you with me. And if I burn them, I'll destroy a part of you as well "
"I want you to burn them. Burn them all. That way, it'd be easier for you to forget me."
Tired of her demanding soul, writer finally picked her up and forged the last thread in their relationship. In a snap he broke her. All the ink trapped inside her spilled itself on his stories. But he didn't mind. Her heart was truly ripped apart.
Writer was finally a free bird. Then why did he still feel sad?
His answer lay in that spilled ink.
You chose me to write the most beautiful of things, but also to write the worst of them.
You picked me up when you wanted release. You picked me up when you wanted to please.
You threw me down, yet I always worked. My tears never failed to give you the inspiration you wanted.
I have no more ink now.
But you, you still have thoughts bottled up inside you.
And now, you don't have the means to get them out.
No, you have nothing.
***
This was the relationship of a writer and his pen.
And a heartfelt thanks to schoolgirlsoudra who played the role of pen in there.
Another amazing shorty jamming session.
