A familiar anticipated number flashed on the mobile screen a good Sunday afternoon, some weeks back. The call was a little early; early by a day. It was the girl with whom I spend quite some time in my second year in college, who remained a friend after we split ways like about 5 years ago. We were quite close, but then I am not the greatest to be a boyfriend and we parted. We stayed friends, against most of her friend's wise words and quite close at that as well. She rode waves, into and out of relations for a brief time and couple of years back told me, I was the reason she took refuge in the new life style. Some months back, when I was packing my bags from Hyderabad, she called me up to say about being into a serious relation. I felt happy for her, or did I...aaah!
The call was awaited, for she was getting home, but then that was a little after and not the time the phone rang, with her name and face book profile picture spread all across the screen. The conversation was exactly not something I anticipated to happen now, maybe after a couple of years. She was short, but crisp, "we can't continue speaking to each other", and I didn't feel like asking her why and told her "yeah" and hung up. A little later the ego felt sad for not having its words to have been heard, with just the "yeah". Sat up straight and text her "deleting you from my phone and the online accounts" and then went ahead and did that.
I am not the greatest of birthday remember-er, for I keep forgetting most and I never remembered hers; thanks to a calendar.exe in my phone, which reminded birthdays, I was faring good in remembering of late. Couple of weeks back I am reminded in the morning, "Ms. X's birthday". I thought about wishing her and realized I didn't have the number and got into living the day, where she didn't belong; and the day turned to days and then weeks.
Driving home today evening from work, I remembered her and the birthday. Then dawned our last conversation, which loomed around the idea that old boy friends have no space in a serious relation, which was very true, if one may ask me. For the pangs of possession is something most humans feels, and it tends to be a little more hidden in men, if you may ask me, but they sure have it, the more, if the relation is comparatively new. And she wanted things to be ideal for her and just asked that, but I wanted it to end brutish, with my ego telling her about deleting the phone numbers and the accounts. At times, I am bloody so cruel. Maybe I too was acting possessive in that text, not wanting the great understanding we have to come to an end; for I called her at all odd times, with some new things I read or thing I thought and she always listened patiently.
Some people stay with you for life, and she surely would for the devotion she showered the time we were together and later as friends. I would certainly miss that, but then it can't happen, if she has to have an immediate life.