The queue

'You are my No. 1', she said to me.

It was the early days of our relationship. The days seemed endless. We were young and we were free. The sun was always shining on us and we thought the days would only get better.

The "honeymoon" lasted a year. We had begun to have petty fights, but made up just as quickly. For her, life wasn't going as smoothly as she thought it would. I believed things would get better.

'My academics and my career are important to me', she said one day. Later I understood it meant that I became No. 2. I could live that. I did not want to come in the way of something that made her happy.

I thought I could win her parents over. My parents, I had already won over. One day, we were arguing. The precursor to any fight.

'My parents' feelings are important to me', she declared.

Her parents are important just as how my parents are important to me. I knew I had to respect her decision. But that would mean her academics and career come first, then her parents and finally I.

Her No. 3.

Her academic workload had begun to increase. And things weren't going that well for me at the work front. I got assigned to a new project. And that project meant long working hours. Gradually we began spending less time meeting and more time speaking on the phone.

She re-connected with her old friends and began to find things to do over weekends. There was always some friend's birthday party she had to attend. Or some place she planned to go with her friends.

I couldn't get to meet her when I wanted. Or how I wanted. Just the two of us, spending what is called "quality time" together. She preferred I hang out with her and her friends.

I was amazed that she chose to forget how she had problems when I spent time with my friends.

I was losing her slowly, and I knew it. But I was confident our love would see us through. If you really love someone, set them free and they will return to you. I decided to wait.

In a haze, a stormy haze,
I’ll be round, I’ll be loving you always, always.

Here I am and I'll take my time,
Here I am and I’ll wait in line always, always.

Only a few months were left in the year. We were hardly meeting each other. Conversations over the phone rarely went beyond 10 minutes. And when they did, it was only because we were arguing.

She seemed just as sad that we couldn't meet. So I began trying every thing I could think of.

'How about meeting this Saturday? Or Sunday?'

She had exams later that month and wanted to prepare.

'How about... the first Saturday next month? Or Sunday? Or the week after that?'

She and her friends were planning to go visit one of their friends working in another town. A friend who had come down to meet her only the previous week.

Things were getting out of hand.

'So, do you want to be with a friend who you met only last week? Or would you rather spend that time with a boyfriend you haven't seen all month?'

I knew I was forcing her to choose. I knew her well enough to know what her answer would be.

She took a deep breath.

'If I had to choose...', she paused. 'I will have to choose my friends. They are important to me. I know this will hurt you, I am sorry.'

Just as I expected. She made her choice and I made my decision.

I walked out of her line. There is only so much waiting one can bear.