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MidReal Story
The Unspoken Love
Scenario:I would like to tell my matrimonial partner we would like to marry we didn't met yet only seen video calls , talk in phone , messages but we want to marriage he stays banglore me in raipur he is kannada and very respectfully talk but I want love like he always formal talk I want deep love like he always tells madam it sounds weird not come close to him I felt disappointed, when I share food pic made by me his response like thank you for sharing, thanks for pic his response always formal I want to teach my partner shyam sundar to know how to respond your partner so I feel good my name anju dewangan
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Anju Dewangan
female. She is a woman seeking a deeper connection with her partner,Shyam Sundar. She is eager,romantic,and introspective. Anju has been in a longdistance relationship with Shyam,exchanging messages and video calls. Despite their formal interactions,she yearns for more affection and closeness. Her desire for love is evident when she shares food pictures with Shyam,hoping for a more intimate response. Anju feels frustrated by Shyam's polite but distant responses.
Shyam Sundar
male. He is Anju's partner from Bangalore who communicates formally despite their longdistance relationship. He is respectful,reserved,and traditional. Shyam addresses Anju as "madam," maintaining a professional tone even in personal conversations. His responses to Anju's messages are polite but lack emotional depth,leaving Anju feeling unfulfilled. Despite his distance and formality,he remains committed to their relationship and plans to meet soon.
I want to tell my matrimonial partner that we didn't meet till date but only video calls and talk on phone and messages.
We want to marry, he stays in Bangalore and I am in Raipur.
He is Kannada and very respectful towards me.
He always talks to me respectfully, which makes me feel that we have a big distance between us.
I want to teach my partner how to know talk to his life partner because of this, I feel sad.
I felt happy when he said today that we will meet soon and we will get married soon.
I felt happy to hear this from him, but I want that love from him which he does not show.
Whenever I send him a picture of food made by me, his answer comes like "Thank you for sharing" or "Thanks for the pic."
I want to tell him that I want to hear something from his mouth that makes me feel happy, but I don't have the courage to tell him.
I want to tell him that I want to hear from his mouth that "you are looking very beautiful today" or "I love you."
But I don't think he will ever say this.
Still, I will try and tell him one day that how he should talk to his life partner.
I hope he understands one day and starts talking romantically.
I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, scrolling through our chat history.
Each message from Shyam was polite and respectful, but lacked warmth.
I sighed, imagining our upcoming meeting in Bangalore.
I needed to prepare for the conversation that would change our relationship.
I practiced aloud, "Shyam, when we meet, let's talk about how we communicate."
My heart raced at the thought of confronting him.
I wanted to tell him that I needed more than just respect and affection.
Taking a deep breath, I dialed his number.
My fingers trembled slightly as the phone rang.
I rehearsed my words in my mind, preparing for the conversation that would change our relationship.
"Hello, madam," his voice answered, as formal as ever.
I hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Shyam, I need to talk about how we communicate."
There was a pause on the line before he replied, "Of course, madam. What would you like to discuss?"
I could feel the distance between us even through the phone.
"I want us to be more open," I said firmly.
"Open?"
Shyam repeated, his voice filled with confusion.
I could sense his hesitation, but I knew I needed to push forward.
"Yes," I replied, my voice steady.
"I want us to be able to talk about anything and everything."
There was a moment of silence before Shyam spoke again, "I understand, madam. But how do you suggest we do this?"
His words were still polite, but I could hear a hint of curiosity in his voice.
I took a deep breath, preparing for the next step.
"I think we should start by sharing our thoughts and feelings with each other," I said slowly.
"Like what?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.
I could feel the weight of our conversation pressing down on me, but I knew I needed to be brave.
"Like how we're feeling right now," I replied gently.
There was another pause before Shyam spoke again, "I'm not sure, madam. I don't know if I can do that."
His words stung, but I refused to give up.
"I understand," I said softly.
"But maybe we can try. Just for a few minutes each day."
There was a moment of silence before Shyam spoke again, "Okay, madam. If that's what you want."
I could feel the distance between us begin to close as we continued talking.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, phone balanced on my knee.
"Let's start now," I suggested, my voice steady.
There was a pause on the line before Shyam spoke again.
"Alright, Anju," he replied, dropping the formal "madam" for the first time.
My heart skipped a beat at the change.
"I'll start," I said, taking a deep breath.
"When I was a child, my grandmother taught me how to cook. She would sit with me in the kitchen and show me how to mix and stir. I loved spending time with her."
I could hear Shyam's soft sigh through the speaker.
"That sounds nice," he replied, his voice filled with warmth.
"Now it's your turn," I said gently.
Shyam cleared his throat before speaking, "When I was young, my mother would tell me stories about our family history. She would sit with me for hours, sharing tales of our ancestors."
His words were filled with emotion, and I could feel a sense of closeness forming between us.
"That must have been amazing," I replied, my voice filled with genuine interest.
"Yes," Shyam replied softly.
"It made me feel like I was a part of something bigger than myself."
We continued talking for several minutes, sharing stories and memories from our past.
"Anju," Shyam said, his voice more relaxed than before.
"I never realized how much I missed talking like this."
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me.
"I know exactly what you mean," I replied, my voice filled with understanding.
"It's like we've been missing a piece of ourselves."
Shyam chuckled softly, the sound filling the line.
"Exactly," he replied.
"I feel like I'm finally being myself again."
I could hear the smile in his voice, and it filled me with happiness.
"Tell me more about your childhood," I said, my voice gentle.
Shyam cleared his throat before speaking, "Well, madam—"
"Shyam," I interrupted gently.
"You can call me Anju. We're past the point of formality now."
There was a pause on the line before Shyam spoke again, "Alright, Anju. As I was saying, when I was young, my grandmother would tell me stories about our family's history. She would sit with me for hours, sharing tales of our ancestors."
His words were filled with emotion, and I could feel a sense of closeness forming between us.
"That must have been amazing," I replied softly.
"Yes," Shyam replied, his voice filled with warmth.
"It made me feel like I was a part of something bigger than myself."
Suddenly, the line went dead.
I stared at my phone screen, willing it to reconnect.
But there was nothing.
I tried calling Shyam back, but there was no answer.
Anxiety crept into my mind as I wondered if this was a sign of deeper issues.
But I refused to let this setback undo all our progress. Taking a deep breath, I decided to message him instead.
"Shyam," I typed, my fingers moving quickly across the screen.
"What happened? Did we get disconnected?"
I waited for his response, hoping that it would come soon.
But as the minutes ticked by, my anxiety grew.
Was this a sign that we weren't meant to be?
Or was it just a minor issue that could be resolved?
I refused to give up hope, even as the doubts crept in.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shyam's response came through.
"Anju," he typed back.
"I'm so sorry. My phone died. But I'm back now. Let's continue our conversation."
Relief washed over me as I read his words.
It was just a minor issue after all.
I realized that even through the static and silence, we were finally learning to hear each other.
I sat on my bed, staring at the wall as I replayed our conversation in my mind.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed, causing me to jump in surprise.
I picked it up, expecting a message from Shyam.
But instead, I saw something unexpected.
The screen flickered, and a message appeared: "Keep talking, it's important."
I stared at the words, confusion washing over me.
Was this some kind of prank?
Or was it a glitch?
I felt a sense of unease as I wondered what this message meant.
But then, a realization hit me.
Maybe this was a sign that we were on the right path.
Maybe this was a reminder that opening up with Shyam was exactly what we needed.
I refused to ignore it.
Picking up the phone once again, I dialed Shyam's number.
