Regret was like heroin. Once she got the taste, once she was hooked, it was all she thought about.
Her every thought was tainted with regret. Every action was initiated by the need to get rid of that regret. She eventually escaped the source of the regret, freed herself from its soul crushing grasp.
She was liberated, free in a city where no one knew who she was, where she could become anyone. So Leela could become Kalinda.
But then came regret's sneaky friend: guilt. Creeping up on her in broad daylight, guilt launched a crippling assault.
If regret was like heroin, then guilt was like morphine. It masked everything.
Every ray of sunshine was dulled.
Every piece of chocolate was too sweet.
Every cup of coffee was too bitter.
The guilt made her lay the foundations for the barricades she was to become infamous for. She closed up on herself, building impenetrable walls no one could see through. She adopted the masking effect of guilt as her defence mechanism. If no one could see emotions in her face then she couldn't hurt them. If she didn't voice her thoughts then people wouldn't become angry. They would be better off. She would be safe.
So she became an observant outsider. It was easier than she thought. Leela became Kalinda and barely anyone knew. Even fewer noticed.
And that's where the anger began to fester. More potent than regret and more overt than guilt, anger quickly became her weakness. It was like cocaine; fuelling frenzied outbursts. Sometimes it was a one night stand when she knew better. Sometimes it was hitting a punching bag until her knuckles bled. And sometimes it was a baseball bat to her bathroom mirror.
She'd stand in the shattered glass, staring at the spider web pattern in what was left of the glass. She'd look at herself, distorted in the fragmented glass, and try to see herself before the anger, before the guilt, before the regret. She'd try to see Leela instead of Kalinda.
Sometimes she did. It wasn't anything anyone else would notice. It was always something small: a glint in obsidian eyes; a twitch of her lips; the curl of the fringe she'd never been able to tame. Kalinda would see Leela and remember why regret was better , why guilt really wasn't as stealthy as she thought and why anger wasn't the most powerful emotion.
She would see Leela and remember the fear. Fear was like adrenaline- so powerful it overrode every other instinct and feeling until her entire world was whittled down to one question: fight or flight.
And for her, there was no choice.