It's official: forbidden timings are the ones where I'm most creative. I didn't have any mad urge to write since 10pm. Dude, here's something I really wanted to talk about, and taking full advantage of the fact that the person it concerns isn't a reader in any way (no, literate, but not interested in reading), I'm using this page liberally as my diary, which, under saner and less dozed conditions I wouldn't have.
So, the reason "Hell's painted itself pink" (to quote Nutee), is that I am somewhere in like-going-to-love stage. It's the guy who
Aug '03:I didn't want to fall for
Mar '04:fell for
Dec '05:fell out of
Dec '07:considered (like what the hell is that, anyway?)
Jan '08:tried to ignore
Feb '08:didn't want to fall for
Mar '08:(tadaa!) fell for.
That's how tightly he was packed into my schedule. Like there are these characters you so know your life would be better without. But nay, you just want the pain to start, the wound to burn. Like Dettol down those knee bruises, geddit?
To quote a few lines from a song long forgotten by public memory, but thoroughly etched in my mind as something that vividly describes how I usually feel:
"Abhi Koi Dil Main Jashn Hua Hain
Abhi Koi Taza Zakhm Mila Hain
Abhi Khamoshi Bhi Khamosh Si Hain
Ke Koi Mujhko Soch Raha Hain"
I am a happy girl, all the time, I can't go frowning all day long. Yeah life has its share of awful days, but I'm the type, if there is a type, who doesn't really care. It's the smile on my own face that keeps me insanely happy. It's the maddening will to laugh at myself. I am a happy girl, because I know that happy lies only where you can see it. No one other than yourself can keep you happy.
But there are these times, like once a month, when I take things to heart. When I want to differ from the 'I'm-always-thinking-and-measured-and-calm' sorts, who has her arrogant obstinacy numero uno on priorities. Like, I think with my heart. I want to be Like theother girls around me, the painful, crazy want of attention, and maybe, even love.
Here's yet another secret. I'm scared of that word 'love', like, shit scared of using it. I don't think anyone will ever fall in love, at least now. At least with me. Stupid, childish complex, I know. But it's there, nothing doing. My close friends who know what's in my head try to get me speak the word; but I can't. It's not love, I know it. May be that I'm not giving my feelings the respect they deserve, the credit for maturity they have gained. May be that I still think I'm frivolous. And fickle. The part where you are ready to give up anything for someone else, and not ask something in return comes to me all too easily since a long time now. When I say I choose my friends, I mean it. Not a single betrayal, any sign of distrust, or any cracks. I don't even give the person an opportunity to do that. So if at all I'm not friends with anyone anymore, it's because we've just fizzed out. I choose my friends so that I know what I have asked for. So 'sacrifice', as so many like to put it, is no problem.
This guy happened on such a day. I allowed him a crack; he dug a tunnel. Given a choice, I'd have kept my distance those days, and not given on the vibe that it may be time to start being friends now. Which we never were. So here I'm faced with a sample where I feel like the one being controlled, and the other one is that arrogant brat who, as my closest friend puts it, "is just unapologetic about what he is. A case of confident take me as I am or leave me". What bewildered me all this while, is what makes him that way. The kind who can hold your gaze for just long enough till it's about to reach the friend's warm timeline, and lets go before that moment. Why he still can't qualify as my friend. What makes him any different from the other guys I have liked.
The thing is, I know what's lined up for me next. I can feel it. It's heartbreak. Cold and terrible. It's the kinda pain you can't describe. If you knew me anywhere personally, I hate not having a reason for something. Headaches, Maths solutions, weather forecasts, mythology. I need a reason to stop the questions in the brain. So when hurt comes, it's not just what they call heart, the pain is in the pit of the stomach for starters, but after that it's in every corpuscle, every cell. It doesn't spare you anything. It's just something that doesn't have a sound reason.
A little bit of reasoning could've prevented the situation totally. Had I not tried to close my brains that day and allow the stupid cardio-maniac to work out things for me, I'd have been less preoccupied, more attentive, less moody, more involved.
I keep saying stupid things these days, he thinks I'm drunk all the while. Giggling goes on for hours, little spurts of irrelevant and unnecessary giggles don't stop. I don't know if it's just me, but we're closer now. Physically? Perhaps. Emotionally? I am.
There are two very basic issues I have with falling for this fellow.
1. He's never going to fall for me, which is kinda a non-issue, as I really don't expect anyone to. It's their life, what I feel for them is pretty much the last of their worries. Poeple don't have to like those who feel different for them. Moreover, I'm tending to ugly to look at, and there's hardly much beyond that guys consider. At least the kinda guy he shows up to be.
2. The last time hurt. It was 3 heartbreaks spaced out in a year, like, major ones, and now that I already know he likes someone else, it's only gonna hurt more if I put myself deeper into this. I didn't even consider looking at anyone else the last time. I suppose I must've changed over the years, but I really don't want to take chances. I'm not that consciously insane.
Oh and by the way, here's a link to a very relative poem (thanks there, you made feel a lot better).
Till tomorrow then. This is gonna be a long teenage.