I don’t know

She came to my house, cried and then went away. She told it was my fault that we were breaking up.

And then she cried more.

I was standing there shocked. But there wasn’t much I could have done. In that moment, my soul got broke — no voice was heard. I was crying from inside.

She then went.

All was left was me in a human body, unaware why all this happened. But suddenly, I needed to inspect so that I don’t repeat the mistake. The one which I am not even aware of. I tried hard but all I could think of is the good times she spent with me.

And I scratched my head hard. Still nothing. Days passed by.

I saw her at the mall. With a guy. Laughing. Friend maybe. She seemed to have moved on fast. Guess, I am the one who did the bad thing — so it’s fine.

Years went by. I tried dating but somehow I felt like a cheater. I was still collecting myself, rethinking my approach and trying hard to impress. But failing — maybe because I lost my natural self.

Then she messaged me for her wedding — and we chatted. And she thanked me for not making a scene and accepting that she cheated on me.

I was like — WHAAAT… Of course in my mind.

She had presumed that I knew she was cheating and so she did the break up as she was taught.

And here I was — questioning myself, longing for someone who had stabbed and went way ahead. I cried again.

But at least I got peace.

The best would have been truth — the better would have not blaming me — and good enough would have been giving no reason.

Maybe…I don’t know.