I write therefore I am

Hating with a vengeance

So there I was wondering why I hated her so much? Why was she always able to leave an indelible mark on my life? Why did I feel she was always ahead of the game while I was a poor second? Why did good things always happen to her? Why was she so successful? Why did she bring out the claws in me? Why was I forced to curb my basic instincts and refer or talk about her as if she had powers over me I couldn’t control? She made me feel small and insignificant – well, I definitely was, in her scheme of things but why did it matter so much? I have no idea?

Or perhaps deep down I knew!

Was she really so successfully or did my mind attribute that to her? She kept all her plans and actions close to her chest – no, I don’t think it was only because she felt information is power. There was more to it. It meant that no one knew what she was up to. She could keep people guessing. In that aura of mystery she did what she had to do. They might be insignificant things but since people were guessing, it meant that their imaginations were attributing qualities to her character or work that were beyond expectations.

She had a kickass attitude – some appreciated it, some thought that it gave her strength of character. She was outspoken and didn’t care about who she trampled upon, took advantage of or who she hurt. She was on a roll, on a high that no one could touch. And of course it meant that people were apprehensive about dealing with her. In turn, the repercussion was that yet again people attributed to her qualities that made her larger than life.

There was a vulnerable side to her, one that had come out some months ago when for some god forsaken reason I felt the innate need to help her open up. I needed to know why we couldn’t be friends. What was it that was holding her back? Why did she in turn hate me so much that she refused to acknowledge my presence and sentiments, my opinions and views? I don’t know if I was doing it for her or for me. Perhaps it was for my sanity sake.

One night I asked her about her personal life – life at home, relationship with family, her love life. I caught a glimpse of the little girl inside desperately trying to pretend she was fiercely independent, didn’t need anyone to care for her, knew her mind. But within all that, it was evident that it was a farce. That fierce independence was a cover up. She really was scared, sad, lonely and desperate for acceptance. She wanted to be loved and cared for. She had become hysterical and was laughing so much I thought she would begin to cry. She didn’t though. The cover up was much stronger, it was her shield from hurt and pain. It helped her brush away those feelings way down deep within. The strong, outspoken and independent soul was how she knew she could deal with the world. Her sense of insecurity was so high that she was afraid, way too afraid to show any kind of feelings and emotions. She didn’t want anyone to know she was vulnerable.

In fact she did remind me of myself and that was a scary thought! Perhaps I felt the way I did was because she had qualities which I hoped to have myself? Perhaps she was a tad stronger than me? Didn’t I wish I was as outspoken without always looking to please people and keeping the peace?

But wait, I still couldn’t hurt people the way she did, trample on them and walk away without a care. No I cared too much about what people thought about me, their acceptance made me feel strong and I couldn’t let go of that.

Her foul mouth wasn’t how I wanted people to know me. Didn’t it ever worry her that what goes around comes around? We reap what we sow in this living life itself. Perhaps her professional success was balanced by an equally unsuccessful personal life? Perhaps that’s where she failed miserably and every day that sadness made her even more strong externally to shun the world and all it’s goodness.

I don’t know why I needed to make sense of this madness, I don’t know why I needed to understand. It’s just that it didn’t have to be this way, ever. But it was. Perhaps I had to just accept it and walk away. I couldn’t set it right since she didn’t want to set it right herself. That is the truth and it was time I accepted it.

3 comments on “Hating with a vengeance

  1. Saurabh Upadhyay
    March 30, 2012

    Hmm. Layered as usual. Good read.

    BTW on second thoughts….Perhaps she was a bitch and you should have kicked her ass !
    🙂

  2. Subhabrata Dasgupta
    April 1, 2012

    Kudos to you, for trying to know her so deperately, and the truth is that she actually needed you more, in order to lead a sane life, only that she never realised it. Perhaps it works both ways, you realise that you need her, while she doesn’t. Great read , though!!

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