A Hate Letter

It was a gloomy morning with mild sunlight

I opened the letter box

T’was a wedding card

A bright white with an eternity symbol in the corner

I knew the handwriting

The very pull at the end of every word

Written in well learnt cursive

****

Even their names seemed to be in sync

The made for each other kind

It was, as if,

Those two names were meant to be written side by side

With just one word in the middle

‘weds’

*******

I went inside my room and shut the door

Walked to my table

Switched on my newly fixed table light

And sat with a blank sheet of paper

Wishing my life could be

As new, fresh and uncontaminated as that A4

Unlike the crumpled brown paper

Which had made its way to the bin

*******

After sitting with the letter for an hour

I asked myself –

What do I write to him?

Should I ask him the cause of this invitation?

Is it a bitter revenge?

Or a way to reconcile a relationship which will

Never be the same

Trying to tamper with our situation

Was like pricking on a wound which was almost healed

Which would heal

Stop hurting me

But the scar would remain

As a reminder

Of something which taught me

How pain becomes pleasure

****

Instead,

I opened my drawer

And took out an old letter

Which held emotions of a sixteen year old lover,

Who didn’t care about my beauty or past?

Who was brave enough to write,

In that same cursive

“I love you”

With that same personal pull at the end

I poured a bit of my blood

Mixed with tears into that pouch of memories

And sealed it

And sent it

That was enough hate from a lover

On his wedding day

Enough