Those people who run into our lives force us to let them in to our little huts; and one day when you wake up, the doors are forced open and they are gone. And you are left alone to repair the broken doors and survive in that deserted place that is too big for you to deal with.
How is it fair?
Why do they do that to people?
How could they do that to anyone?
Why go through so much to get in if all they wanna do is leave when they are bored – if that is even the reason they leave. I mean why do they have to leave?
Why can’t they sit down for a second and tell you what they want?
Explain why they have to leave?
Tell you what you did?
What went wrong?
But no, they just leave you in your empty hut, to clean the mess alone, to open windows and let their fragrance be blown away by the wind, to sit back and wonder through long sleepless nights, what you did wrong; what you lacked; what is wrong with you? And try to throw away everything that reminds you of them and that everything is your entire life.
How could you ever live in the same place, the same life and be the same person, the way you used to live when that person was?
How could you listen to the songs you’ve listened together, the movies you watched together without thinking of them?
How could you pursue your dreams that you planned with them, shared with them?
There are traces of them everywhere. At every nook and cranny of your life. You let them in to this little hut of yours, you let them grow, you let them change that place the way they want it to change, you make them a part of that little place and that place would be a wreck once they decide to leave. Why do they not think about that for a second? Do they even care how you must be feeling? Let’s say that you decide to move on and build a new place, and eventually let someone new again in, and they decide to walk away one morning too?
What will you do?
Or live in the wrecked place that constantly keeps reminding you of them?
And one day you would get tired of hoping and praying, you’d look back and all you’ll see is deserted huts, and no place to call home.
Every person we meet changes us in one way or another. They might be just visitors to this hut of yours, passers-by, strangers or friends, family. They show you things that you’ve never seen before, they show you life you have never seen before, they teach you lessons that you would never forget. They always leave their footsteps behind in your heart, along the road they entered your hut. Because of them , you learn improvise your hut, you paint it with new colours, you build a wall around it, you put up a gate, you try to keep it clean. Everything you do is for them or because of them. At the end of the day, you are what they made you. You are what you took from them, what you gave them, because just like you remember them at every turn of your life, if you have made any influence to their lives, they’d think of you just the same. Just like they had built you, you had influenced in their making too.
Maybe someday, they would look back in life and thank you.
Maybe they would wish they had never hurt you.
And maybe you might look back and thank them too.
Because someday, these little huts you had formed would take you to a place called home. It could be a new place or a new discovery, or a hut you had abandoned a long time ago. The truth is that we hurt other people just as we have been hurt, and we don’t even know about it. It is a never-ending cycle, you hurt someone, they hurt another and they another, until somebody whom you hurt, hurts you back.
And you realize that it matters.
That they matter.
That you have been running in a circle the wrong way the entire time; all you had to do was stop running, turn and look behind you.