Loss of Identity


Commitment is not always great announcement.

Sometimes, it is how we include someone, in a smallest possible way we can, in the smallest corners of our everyday lives.

It doesn’t mean giving big promises or declaring forever but choosing someone even when the days are boring.

It is about emotional safety, finding home in each other.

I struggled to be a part of his life, I wanted to be seen like he sees his friends, sisters, colleagues, I wanted to exist in his world but not as a secret, not as someone whose presence had to be carefully hidden.

Once, during an event, he told me,
“Lets be like a stranger here” 
So, I pretended that I had never known him. 

I understood that he wanted to keep this relationship private, I respected this.
But I told him that I wanted to feel included in his life even if it is in the smallest ways.
He listened but never cared enough to change anything.

He told me “Until the differences between two people don’t disappear, I never do that”. 

Differences? 

Until then I always thought we were the same, after being so close to him, spending months beside him I started believing he is a part of me, a part of my heart, a part of my world.

I sat with all our similarities and he sat with our differences.

One day, I felt terrible, seeking answers were the only thing I knew and in front of his sisters, I finally asked him,
“didn’t you tell them who I am”

That was it.

That was the day.

He looked at me and, with a sarcastic smile, replied,
“Were we even in a relationship?”
 His eyes seemed to sparkle for a moment before he put on his sunglasses.

His sisters looked at me, half confused, half shocked.

During that moment, I felt something inside me shifting.
 I felt my inner self collapsing, my hands trembling, my heart furious. 

And somewhere deep within me, I knew that the home I had built has been shattered completely, 
I felt like falling from the roof of the same home I once built with love and my love seemed to be taking its last few breaths.

I never felt this hollow. 
he took the very identity that he gave me. 

Who I was to him? 

He made me feel like a stranger but why did I feel this hurt?
Because Strangers are, in some ways, safer. They cannot hurt us in the same way because we never give them access to the deepest parts of our hearts.
But he was not a stranger.
He had been home.

And then, that day, he felt like one, a stranger who knew exactly where to hurt me.

His words did not just break my heart. They entered my bones, settling deep inside me, I could not escape them.

That one sentence took the breath out of me.
And the millions of tears I cried still weren’t enough to soften his heart.

Once, He told me he loved me.
But how could someone love me and still not understand what I was crying for?

~ sneha

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