Cerpen 7 | Plague.

Their relationship wasn’t platonic, there was this mixture of love and care and a little bit of annoyance and a pinch of hate - but most of it was doubtless, love and care. Nelly and Chuck were best friends.

Both of them had always shared their problems, their anticipation and hopes, the past and present and future, they can talk from one point to another without losing grip of comprehension. It was an empathic sort of conversation, and they engaged with each other as if they had known for years.

Chuck had once asked Nelly, 'What do you think happen if we marry each other?' Nelly’s cheeks were instantly flushed with blush, but she pretended she didn't hear it - though to anyone it would be clear and loud - replied a simple 'huh?', and then skillfully changed the topic.

It took months before Nelly learnt that the question was meant for something else. It wasn’t 'would we able to love each other, grow old together, be with each other till death comes and departs with our lives' kind of thing. It was rather 'Would you treat me like other people who would die to have a try? Would you feel lucky if you're married to me? Do you really love me, 'cause if it's a yes then I'll know I can find anyone I like!'

Things were changing slowly, and it took a simple essence of experience to tell anyone that this was one of life’s ABCs. Nelly, never tired of being optimistic, had countless of times told Chuck what she thought and felt, but failed to prevail.

One day she wrote a letter of goodbye to Chuck, because knowing him for another few months would only kill her more. She wrote the letter on a white paper with a red pen. It said;

“Insensitivity is when you sigh the moment you know I have a problem you couldn’t solve.

Insensitivity is when you ask me to not bother you when you’re sleeping but you senselessly poking my side when I am asleep.

Insensitivity is when you have all the money in the world but you pretend that you don’t have a penny at all and you begin to feast whatever I have even though it is apparent that I haven’t eaten for days.

Insensitivity is when you make that look as if you know it all but the truth is, you never know what it is because you have never experience what I’ve experienced and you are busy with yourself and yourself only.

Insensitivity is when you refuse to help me, not knowing that I’ve helped saving your faces a thousand times.

Insensitivity is when someone had just moved out from the house and you blamed me for it, oblivious to the fact that the reason is YOU.

Insensitivity is when you told me you fell in love with someone particular but seek for another when you thought no one is looking.

Insensitivity is when you have the time to criticize others in social networks as if you have countless things to say, but nothing when you’re sitting just beside them.

Insensitivity is when you ask anyone to go out with you but you always forever busy with your phone and self.

Insensitivity is when you disregard your friends around you - that includes me - and seek for those who aren’t real in social networks.

Insensitivity is when you praise yourself, but fail to embrace when someone else praises himself.

Insensitivity is when you listen to me for just awhile and said you have nothing to say but then you found a platform to degrade me, and said it well.”

She hid the letter under his pillow when he was out, and she left the house, made a promise to herself that she would never come back.

Suddenly, her mind told her, there was one more thing she forgot to write -

“Insensitivity is when you read this letter and not knowing what I meant.”