Comments for Post #C27174

#C27174 28M, Kolkata Longest post alert… bohut dardh hai bhai bolne do !! Maybe some relationships never get a name, yet they leave the deepest scars. I wasn’t looking for love anymore. After a peaceful breakup from a long relationship, life simply moved in different directions—when I left Kolkata for my second job, she later moved out too. We still are in touch because I always believed good people and good memories shouldn’t be erased so easily. After that, I genuinely enjoyed being single. Life was simple—office, football, parar adda, late-night food plans with friends, no restrictions from half wife. I was happy in that phase of life. Then I met her in my newly joined office in Kolkata 2 years back. She stood out without even trying—simple, grounded, the kind of Bengali girl you’d notice during Durga Pujo Ashtami Anjali beside her parents or at a para cultural function. In a world full of noise, fake personalities, and half-hearted connections, she felt pure and real. Soft-spoken, hardworking, calm, and innocent-looking. We started naturally—lunches, walks, momo evenings, after-office talks, random laughter. At that time, she was healing from a breakup, and I was simply there for her as a friend, with no intentions… only wanting to see her smile again. Daily conversations, changing bus routes just to travel together, waiting after office, weekend outings, dropping her home—slowly she became part of my everyday life. The smallest moments started feeling special simply because she was there in them. Her laughter started becoming enough to make my whole day better. We overshared everything, and we were very real with each other. And somehow along the way, I fell in love. With time, I realised we were different people. I was happy with my simple Samsung phone and bus rides while she preferred iPhones and cabs. Her world felt polished; mine was simple. I came from a middle-class Bengali family where even small savings matter. Maybe that’s why I never planned to confess, because somewhere I felt she was out of my league. Still, slowly we became closer. I got a green signal, I could feel it, but when I confessed my feelings, she never fully said yes… but she never said no either. Her “maybe, with no expectations” became enough for me to stay emotionally invested. I thought maybe loyalty, honesty, and time would someday turn that “maybe” into a “yes.” Holding her hand and walking beside her for miles became one of the happiest feelings of my life. My first kiss with her felt meaningful because I truly believed she was someone I could build a future around someday. I never wanted anything temporary with her. That’s why before getting into anything physical, I brought her home casually so she could know my world. My family normally welcomed her with warmth because, in my heart, she was never “casual.” I still remember she eating from my hands, carrying her bags, massaging her head when she was tired, eating the last bite of her ice cream, and silently enjoying her presence beside me. I still remember momo evenings, restaurant dates , random walks after office, and those quiet moments where we didn’t even need words. Waiting for her messages became normal. Dropping her home became the best part of my day. Seeing her name on my phone somehow gave me peace. I still remember how happy she looked when I gave her flowers because nobody had done that for her before. Those small things became my language of love. And honestly, I loved her with everything I had. We enjoyed each other’s presence. Maybe it sounds old-fashioned, but I always believed intimacy should mean something real. My belief was simple—intimacy should be with the woman I would marry one day, the one I’d apply sindoor to. Maybe it sounds foolish to some, but to me, it was my way of becoming a good future husband. So when I crossed emotional and physical boundaries with her, it was never casual for me. In my heart, it felt like a silent promise. Somewhere in my mind, I genuinely felt my search was over. We were coming closer day by day and getting attached. But slowly I realised she probably didn’t love me the same way. I was not able to turn her “maybe, with no expectations” into a “yes.” But I still stayed. Maybe because I had become addicted to her presence emotionally and physically. At the same time, she had also become attached to me. I could feel her emotional dependence too. I had two choices—either act casually, take advantage of the situation, and walk away… or stay honestly even if it hurt later. I chose the second one. I would rather cry myself to sleep than become the reason someone else’s daughter cries. Somewhere deep down, I always knew I was rescuing an injured bird, and once she healed, she would eventually fly away. Still, I stayed for as long as life allowed me to. Later she clearly said she didn’t feel the same way for me. But by then, I was already deeply attached to her presence. What we shared felt real to me. We were emotionally and physically close, doing everything couples usually do, so somewhere my heart started believing I had finally found my person. As we were doing everything a couple does and I was fully loyal and honest, I felt positive and thought she might be taking her time. Maybe my only mistake was loving too purely. But at the same time, the girl was emotionally and physically attached to me, cried in front of me, and expressed her feelings. How could I not love her back? How could I love her with impurities or keep it casual? By the time I realised she didn’t love me the same way, it had become okay for me because I had already given my 100%. She didn’t feel the same way, and that is absolutely fine. I had no regrets about the love I gave her because she deserved it, and she was very pure with me at the same time. There came a point where maturity made me realise that love, no matter how pure, is not always enough to build a life. I loved her with everything I had in me, and if there is one thing I will always be proud of, it is the honesty, loyalty, and sincerity with which I loved her. My intentions were never temporary. I saw her with a kind of softness and respect that made me want to protect her happiness, even if it came at the cost of my own. Somewhere along the way, I started asking myself—what is the point of bringing someone into your life if you cannot give them the world they truly deserve? She deserved comfort, beautiful experiences, peace, security, and a life without compromises. And deep inside, I feared that maybe love alone could not give her all of that. The world is practical in ways the heart often refuses to understand. Sometimes loyalty, honesty, and emotional depth are not enough to win against the life someone dreams of. And that is why, despite loving her so deeply, I could never become selfish enough to hold her back. If loving someone truly means wanting the best for them, then I had to accept that maybe her happiness was more important than my desire to keep her with me. I would have been the happiest person alive if life had chosen us for each other, but love also means having the strength to let go when you believe someone deserves more than what you can offer. The painful part is that I never needed grand promises from her to stay. I had become so attached to her presence that even a small place in her life would have been enough for my heart. I was ready to stand beside her quietly for as long as destiny allowed, until the day she found the person she truly wanted for her future. And even then, I would have prayed for her happiness from afar, because sometimes loving someone deeply also means learning to love them selflessly. Before leaving hometown for a new job, I cried in front of her and asked her to stay in my life at least as a friend. During that last cab ride, while holding her hand, I somehow already knew it was the end. Even after moving away, we still talked every day—video calls, random updates, and sharing the smallest moments. She had quietly become part of my routine, my peace, and my comfort. Slowly, even my smallest happiness started including her, even my new office laptop password. Nothing changed except the distance. Then one day she told me she had met someone else and started loving him. That night, I completely broke down. Deep down, I knew this day might come, but obviously it would take time for me to accept it because I was already addicted to her presence. She had cried in front of me so many times, and I had always tried to make her laugh, protect her peace, and emotionally support her. So obviously it would never be easy for me to detach overnight. What hurt wasn’t that she chose someone else. What hurt was how quickly everything changed. A few days before, I was her “first priority.” as she told. Then suddenly, daily calls became one call a week. Messages started getting delayed even when I was simply asking how she was doing. Then came distance. Then silence. Then one day, I was blocked everywhere without even a goodbye. Hardly 2 calls and 3 messages within that, she changed completely and blocked me. We used to do more calls and messages in a single day. Even a phone asks before deleting something. But she didn’t. The way she replaced me hurt me. At least a good ending would have been enough instead of being thrown away like waste. Maybe we were never officially together, but what we shared never felt casual to me. That’s what hurts the most—not the rejection, but being erased so easily by someone who once felt like home. Someone I had helped heal from a similar pain. Sometimes I still wonder—did she really ghost me, or was everything casual for her from the beginning? How can someone cry in front of you, share every fear, every emotion, become physically and emotionally attached, make you feel so important… and then suddenly block you like you never mattered? The innocent heart and warmth I saw in her never felt capable of being so cold. Maybe I did something wrong, or maybe I simply failed to understand the situation. I still remember everything—our favorite food places, random laughter, quiet conversations, sharing ice cream, holding hands for miles, and all those tiny moments that silently became memories for life. My first everything was with her. I was honest, loyal, and emotionally genuine throughout. Maybe I was never enough for her world, but I still wonder—was there ever a lack of sincerity in the way I loved her? Moving on feels strange. Deleting her pictures feels like betrayal. Talking to new people feels empty. Sometimes I still wonder: Did I really mean nothing in the end? The colleague who backbitched about you stayed… but I, who stayed loyal, got blocked. Couldn’t I remain even a normal friend or just a contact in her phone? What mistake did I make that made it so easy to erase me completely? “Sobai roye gelo… ami-i block hoye gelam.” I understand she never officially committed anything to me. But we were emotionally and physically attached, and from my side it was always real. What hurts is not losing her. What hurts is being erased as if I meant nothing. Another strange thing is how our common office circle changed too. The WhatsApp group became inactive, conversations faded, and the people we once spent every day with slowly disappeared from my life. They were all girlsin that group. We shared so many memories together—office breaks, random outings, trips, laughter, long conversations, and moments that genuinely felt like family to me. I even brought some of them home. Back then, everything felt so normal and close. Even though none of them truly knew what existed between us, we were genuinely good friends once. That is why this sudden distance hurts so much now. Sometimes I overthink and wonder if she shared her version and made me the villain in everyone’s head, maybe to protect herself or avoid complications. Or maybe it is simply office distance and life moving on. I honestly do not know anymore. But either way, it hurts. It has already been months, yet emotionally I still feel stuck at the same place. During showers, before sleeping, or in random silent moments, my chest suddenly feels heavy and my mind goes back to everything again. I barely talk to my parents anymore. They are trying to find girls for me, some are even agreeing, but I just sit quietly with no feelings left inside me. My close friends have tried so hard to console me for months, but even they are slowly getting tired now. Day by day, the weight inside me only keeps increasing. The hardest part is not rejection, it is the lack of closure. I have always ended things on a good note, even with enemies. We may never speak again, but there was always some final understanding, some final words, some peace. But she was my special person. That is why I still cannot understand how someone who once made me feel so important could suddenly disappear and leave me with so many unanswered questions. “Ek tarfa hoti to baat aur hoti, dukh ye hai ki izhar usne bhi kiya tha.” Maybe that is why a part of me still wonders if I should meet her once—not to blame her, not to force anything back, but simply to ask if I unknowingly did something wrong. Sometimes I also wonder whether I should casually stay in touch with my old colleagues again, or whether they already see me differently now. Maybe I am just overthinking, but somewhere inside me there is still a fear that I became the villain in a story nobody even fully knew. Suggest me what to do.....pagol kore dilo mey ta... my honesty and loyalty is now laughing at me.. And still, despite everything, I cannot hate her. She is still a good person in my eyes. A caring daughter, and someday she will probably be an amazing wife and mother too. Maybe that is why this hurts even more—because even after all this pain, one part of my heart still wants nothing but happiness and peace for her.