Hell, that was.

I was at Striker last night, the pub in Gurgaon which brews its own beer (some of the best in Delhi-NCR). Usual things happened. One too many beers. Drunk. In a world of my own. Good band. Great music (the kind I like). Memories came flooding back when the system played ‘The Scientist’ (a Coldplay song). I don’t know why. Maybe it was the alcohol talking. Happens once in a while.

Memories were not the happy ones, it’s been a long time I got over them. Whatever happy ones were there were swiftly replaced by horrific ones. Those ten months of sheer torture, helplessness, misery and pain. Not knowing if I even had a relationship to salvage. Not knowing when the hell would end, and life would be normal again. Not knowing who I was, or what I had become from the person I used to be. Not knowing why I was compromising my life or health by drinking endlessly, when it was clear the other person didn’t give a shit. Knowing that I should have called it quits way earlier. Knowing I was a doormat for pandering to all his mood swings, whims and fancies. Not knowing why all the smiles and glee had been replaced by a thousand insults traded every day, each day starting and ending on the same note. Barbs, humiliation, allegations, ‘character assassination’ – I took everything in my stride. I amazed myself with my strength, to be honest. My parents and close friends didn’t know about my condition until I finally snapped and let go. By then, I was beginning to pick the pieces of my life and trying to make a clean start again.

The song reminded me of all that. I took a few more swigs of beer and tried to put away all those rushing memories. It’s always better to let go of the bad ones. That way, they don’t keep eating me from the inside.

Song of the day: Apeman (The Kinks)