The Yellow Sweater

I stare at the yellow sweater in the leather suitcase which was locked till now and found it in my search for a missing t-shirt. The memories come rushing like a giant waterfall rolling off a cliff. I become powerless, and I roll too with the memories.

A gift from Ronith on my 23rd birthday. I always hated yellow. I was unhappy that he brought me yellow. He had said, ' I know you hate yellow. But I like yellow. And this is me gifting myself. I want to see you in this yellow sweater when you come to Missouri to meet me. And I want to tell you, how beautiful you look in yellow through my eyes.'

The journey to Missouri never happened. The long distance relationship died slowly once he moved to Missouri. I threw away his gifts, locked some of them in places I would never find, cleared the chat history, deleted his pictures from my mobile. All of this happened two years back.

I wear the yellow sweater. It still fits me. Not bad, I say to myself looking at my reflection in the mirror...not many kilos I have added over the years..and it looks good on me. It isn't flashy, it isn't gaudy...it is soberly bright. I kinda like it on me. I say maybe yellow isn't that bad and what Ronith said was not false entirely. I look good...cool....pretty...

And then a tear rolls down my cheek imagining he is in this room, right now, what will be his reaction? What will he say? I remove the sweater hurriedly, fold it and lock it back in the suitcase with the many other things that I don't require now.

The yellow sweater and the memories associated with it are also not required but as the night grows on me, I feel sad, unable to sleep. I think of Ronith and his smile, his thick eyebrows perpetually locked in a furrow, his detail for little things, his passion for golf...

I don't love him anymore. I have moved on. I have found love in someone else's arms. But I loved him once. I cared for him once. I do care for him now. Not like a lover but probably like someone whom I knew so well once.

Love might change from one person to another person but the very essence of it known as caring - that someone we loved once is safe somewhere and is happy.

I guess it is normal to think this way. I don't love him now the way I loved him once. I love him like a friend, like any other person whom you are associated with and you want them to do well.

I wake up, switch on the lights, move the stool close to the wardrobe and stepping on the stool, I bring down the frayed leather suitcase. I remove the yellow sweater and speak to it,'Hope you are well. And hope you have found love again and hope you are happy.'

I wear the yellow sweater next day to a party and my fiance, Hemant asks, 'You and yellow? By the way, you look pretty.'

And he winks at me. I give him a bright grin like the bright yellow sweater.

It is better to accept things and embrace the truth of the expired relationships rather than shutting the memories down. Love in its basic form is beautiful - relationships might work or not - people may stay together or not but in the end what is important is to save and cherish those well spent moments.