Oleander

"Oh that? That's just another fool," I'd hoped you'd say, if someone ever asked about me. "He'd do any damn thing for me. The fool loves me crazy, you know?"

All this while, through all the sleepless nights, the extra miles that I traveled, alone, for you, the tons of emotions I wrote volumes on and everything in between, that you have no idea about. Through all of this, I just had this one hope, and somehow, it didn't seem to end.

Other than that, I'd never, never really expected anything from you, you see? I knew that I'd chosen to garden a rose whose entire fragrance and existence belonged to someone else. I knew that at most, I'd have a right on the few thorns that the person who plucks you out of the garden eventually, will maybe throw at me. I knew this all, the first day I met you and fell irrevocably and unabashedly in love with you.

But, I still had this one hope. A hope that kept me going as I became the uninvited and self-nominated Gardner of the garden that protected you through every storm and rain for 5 long years! I'd hoped that you'd know what you meant to me and what all I'd do for you.

Yet, you thought of me as just another opportunist, trying to crumple you under his whims, like the ones before I had. That, my once "so-called" love, broke me.

It broke me to such an extent that I'll never dare to garden another rose, or any flower for that matter. 'Cz all this while, I'd been gardening an "Oleander", mistaking it for a rose.

And so I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I treated you like a rose, while you had always been an Oleander seed. And I'm sorry for the person who'd eventually dare to pluck you out and would resort to a painful fate, much like my own. Intentions will defer, but fate will not.

'Cz you see, it's your nature to harm the ones who dare to hurt you my dear Oleander – nothing could change it. Only you didn't realise that I was never meant to – never really could – pluck you or harm you 'cz...