Passion, Regret and an Ocean of words..

With the sky as clean a slate, sitting on the tip of a boulder in between a shallow river, he asked for an explanation, a justification for how do he stop himself from being hurt over and over again. They say the first time you make a mistake its an accident, the second time you make the same mistake its a habit, but he went on committing the emotional suicide by the same method time and again. The only thought which came to his mind was how exactly could he stop his heart from sinking? Was there any life jacket available? Was there any life guard who could help him reach the shore?

He hardly trusted anyone and whenever he did, it was again disproportionate. He told them everything, from eating a polo to spilling the biggest and the darkest secrets. They became an exception to almost everything he did. They were involved in every thought and action, with the idea that they would think of him, the same. But, the bitter truth is they kept him at the periphery of their lives, even outside of the circumference of their life. And then it finally dawned upon him that it is too late for him to maintain that poise, too late to hit that imaginary delete key which he always wanted, to cut them out of his life, because inadvertently he developed a disastrous emotional, schmaltzy bond with them. He was left alone as he unwittingly shut himself up, for the sake of those who he thought were a world to him.

With that feeling of fidgetiness, how do you expect him to just shut his effing mind and drown himself in slumber? How would he make up for the bungle of which he never had a clue? 

He was left alone with a regret as passionate as the hug of two lovers meeting after eternity, with waves of alphabets surfacing on an ocean of words, broken faith, handful of handkerchiefs with a word engraved which was now meaningless!