Courageous

"Think about it", I said, my eyes staring into hers, tears caressing her warm cheeks, easing the temperature. Excruciatingly, I said, "Three years ago, you would've NEVER trusted him. You would've not even looked him the eye. But today, today, you're telling me the agonizing story of how he chose a job over what seemed to you true love."

Folding her lips inwards, her tears gushing and mascara smudged, she had no doubt in her mind as she looked at me. My eyes in hers. Hers in mine. She leaned forward. I too. This was the moment, I thought.

She took a deep breath, ran her hand down the wet face, and looking at the residue of the remaining mascara, she paused. Paused, until all we could hear were the sounds of the leaves being hustled by the obnoxious wind, and she said, "Looks like I'm just getting dumber."

I was pained. My heart throbbed as she said that. And yet, I mustered all my courage somehow. I put myself together. Hung in there. Did all the million things my friends told me to do to take my mind off of it, and still arrived at the intersection between a best friend and a girlfriend.

With a bland smile on my face, a million thoughts creating pandemonium in my mind, the bland smile turned broader. Much more significant. And so were her tears, surging out of the lacrimal glands, dripping one by one, from her heart shaped chin onto the pale great Varsity t-shirt she had on at the time.

I struggled. More than she knew. More than I knew. And I was in trauma. Looking at her like that shattered me. But ever so boldly, mobilizing my courage, like a war general to his troops, I sighed, somewhat positively, grinned and said, "Not at all Smriti, not at all. You're not getting dumber. Just more courageous."