top of page


Short Story #3: The Blame

“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, “It might have been.” ― Kurt Vonnegut

He woke up from a horrified dream, something that’s been haunting him for quite sometime. The dream of losing you. It aches every moment to see you not care about that one person who still would cross oceans for you. It wasn’t your fault. He blames himself till this day and probably everyday till the last day in his life. Regret had almost become a habit.

But this was something else. It was horror mixed with disappointment. It was gloominess mixed with frustration of letting you go to the depths and not doing anything to stop. Letting go had never been so tough. Maybe, ’cause no one had ever meant the world to him. Maybe, ’cause you looked way softer than your heart. No one knows. No one would probably care to know. Except him. He would want the reason as to why every person he tried to protect you from had become more important than him.

Was pretense more powerful than sweet love?

Was falseness stronger than originality?

Did care and worry, valuing more than oneself meant nothing to you?

He did not know. He probably wondered, but didn’t care to know. Maybe, ’cause he believed another answer would end even the ruins made by your previous answer.

He had tried to make you independent. That you did not need any guy to live for. Hardly did he have any idea that he’d be the guinea pig of his own experiment.

But, it was done for good. At least, that’s how he convinces himself.

That fact that you’d given up on him also led to a conclusion that he gave up on himself-his dreams, career, future, family. Everything he’d thought about was lost in the blink of an eye. Just when you said “Don’t you know, it’s already ended.”

He still breathes, but breathing is not living. To this day he wonders as to what wrongs he’d done that he suffers this fate. What’d be his result in completely hidden in the sands of time, but what looks from now is a dark barren land trying to be covered by the soul.

The long dark night of the lonely soul.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

About The Author

Tanmay is a writer influenced by the past and tries to write things trying to break free from the shackles of that same past. He believes that paradoxes are the most beautiful aspect of one’s life. He also advocates that freestyle writing should be encouraged to let people express their inner beings with complete strength.

13 views0 comments
bottom of page