I am on a holiday in Delhi, like you so very well know. I'm having a whale of a time here, staying at a friend's house with her lovely family, roaming around Delhi when the city's at its best, eating the best food, blowing a lot of money and doing exactly everything that I should be doing to enjoy my holiday.
And yet, I'm making the time to sit here and blog. About you. Knowing myself, I wouldn't do that in normal circumstances. Why would I, when everything was going fabulously well here, and I could just blog about everything at one go when I return home? But nevertheless, I am here. Writing. About you.
Friend, I'm depressed. And I'm disappointed. I thought we were the kind of friends who'd never grow apart. The kind who, even if we didn't speak to each other for over several months, would always pick up from where we left off and still feel completely in sync with each other. As far as I know, we were always around for each other, for happy times and sad times, for silly reasons and funny memories. Midnight conversations were a staple. We'd speak to each other till the wee hours of the morning so many times. You were just the kind of friend who I thought was a security blanket. Whatever happened, I'd always have you to talk to. Or so I thought.
What's changed, then? Distance? If that was the case, we wouldn't be friends in the first place, right? Infrequent conversations? Well, it wasn't like we couldn't live without talking to each other. Is there someone who's taken my place? Hmm. Didn't think I was so easily replaceable.
Why don't I know you anymore? Why am I one of the general crowds who gets to know about you, through tweets or Facebook status messages or blog posts, instead of receiving a call about what's up with you, like was customary? Why don't I receive a text message anymore, whenever you update your blog after months? Instead, I only find out if you see me online and decide to ping me. Perhaps it's the restraints of a new job...but then, I know for a fact that your social life is otherwise completely active in all its glory.
So am I to take it that you've got a problem with me?
Why did you seem so reluctant to meet me, when I was in your city? Were you that busy that it was difficult for you to return a call? Or to find out how my vacation was going? Or was it just that you were partying really hard with other more interesting friends? I wonder if it was too much trouble making you come all the way even once. Sorry if it was.
I'm not washing my dirty linen in public here, you know me better than that. I'm just trying to find out what has gone wrong over just a few months. I'm not demanding an explanation from you either. I don't really know why I'm doing this. Perhaps because writing is the only thing that can make me feel better about this.
Forgive me if I sound like a lovesick, heartbroken wuss here. I'm not in love with you. Not the romantic kind, anyway.
I just thought, that after all the stuff that we've shared with each other, or rather, I've shared with you, you'd be the last person making me write this post. What hurts most is that, while our friendship definitely hasn't soured, you've become completely indifferent to my existence. I'm still coming to terms with that, but it will take time.
Thanks for meeting up with me over this small break. I don't know what to expect from you from our meet, but one thing is for sure. I definitely didn't expect to see a completely new person in front of me.
Again, no explanations required. Maybe someday I'll see the light.
And maybe next time, I won't take a holiday from work to spend the day with you, like I did the last time.