Tag Archives: confused

A Letter in my drawer

February 1st, 2014

 

Hey, it’s been a while. How have you been, how are things? Is college still as new and shiny as you thought it was or do you now occasionally get tired or even bored of the same old conversations and the same shit over and over again or do you embrace the rut? I’m getting better. I don’t feel like crying the tears which refuse to come out anymore, I feel like the hurricane of emotions is slowly turning into a drizzle and will soon just be the muck in the gutters, uncared for and ignored. I’m okay.  Getting better. I feel like I did after the first break up, but it’s easier because I don’t have to see your face day in and day out, and because I can no longer revolve my every move around you or how’ll I bang into you in the middle of a street, out of the blue. I cant do that anymore. I’m trying to distract myself. I go out and I try to make friends and I did succeed (till an extent). The other night I spoke to this guy till 5 in the morning, I told him about you and what had happened; didn’t give him the details but just told gave him a rough outline of our timeline. I haven’t spoken to anyone since you till 5 AM, I felt like I was cheating on you. Kissing other guys is different, that’s my way of getting back at you and in my weird diabolic mind it does make sense though in reality it doesn’t because you don’t care. I enjoy being promiscuous, I need the attention from you, I need you to yell at me and I need you to ask me to stop but it’s too late now and I can’t stop.. I feel like I’m drowning in my own personal hell. It’s so hard, I kiss others and end up texting someone back home, someone I trust saying that I miss you and that I wish you were here. Sometimes I don’t get myself, but then again neither did you  and since you are logical and rational I must be pretty damn fucked up. I feel like wasting away sometimes and it makes it easier, it strengthens the walls and I honestly don’t care about those guys. I care for them, some of them but it’s purely platonic none of it involving the heart. I don’t let anyone penetrate that deep. Pun intended. I don’t want to hurt them, any of them but sometimes it’s inevitable and though I make it absolutely clear in the beginning somehow it doesn’t always work that way. For if we humans knew to control the workings of the heart, Our lives wouldn’t be such heartbreaking tragedies. Our timeline which spans over two years is frankly very weird. I am scared of saying things now, you know, things which maybe misinterpreted or just interpreted. I’m so very scared and you aren’t here, I now think that you are dead (metaphorically, Ammu’s idea) so I talk to you in my head and have imaginary conversations with you when I crave your company which isn’t very often but I do crave to see your face. I miss it. I miss the fact that you were there, somewhere in the shadows, in the background, I miss having that tiny ray of hope. That too is gone now and it kills me that that something which i thought was so profound and felt so fiercely for, was all this while in my head. But isn’t that all life is about? Life is all about ‘the idea of something’ and how we run behind that idea, day in and out for to find that the idea of it was much better than the reality which is so very different, but we go on lying to ourselves, convincing ourselves of things otherwise, disbelieving what we see, imagining glances which had never passed, words which had never been uttered and end up believing something that never really happened. It gets harder with each passing day and you are vanishing, from my memory. You are decaying and turning into an idea of you and are no longer you. I now, only remember the altered happy memories, the sad ones are deep suppressed and inaffective. Life does go on and I’ll be okay and I’ll like someone once again, one day. I know that. But i’ll be scared to be so very passionate about it and reckless and impulsive. You know why didn’t’ out of sight out of mind’ work with us, with me to be specific because you are so deeply rooted in my system that I can’t filter you out. You introduced me to the things I now love, and I introduced you to the things I Loved and none of them are truly, completely mine anymore. The music I used to listen to 3 years back and my playlist now are two sides of a coin. Apart but joined together by that rim. My favorite movies which you quote and which i quote day in and day out were actually both our favorite movies, our favorites as individuals. My favorite books aren’t my favorite books they are that book he thought was boring, the book he loved, the book he could relate to, the book he didn’t read. All my favorites, all the things that make me happy, all the people I love, all my happy memories, Home, My dog they all revolve around you. Isn’t it weird? How can one separate the yin from the yang? You’ve been the catalyst, you set things in motion and now you have walked out of the stadium saying that it’s my turn to make it big. How can I make my mark, when the very force that drove me to do it when i was in the pits, refuses to acknowledge my  existence? My memories show you as the big looming figure with a husky voice and that smile. I miss your smile, I miss it so much. That smile could end wars and cure cancer, it could make the sun shine and bring out the silver lining. That smile changed things. . Do you still smile when someone says that she can’t finish her burger after begging for a burger all day? Do you still smile someone changes her earrings and hit it lightly with your finger? Do you still wrap your arms around someone’s waist and put your head against her stomach for a while, out of the blue? Do you still start walking when you laugh? Do you still believe in 20 minute post-sex power naps? Do you still like your noodles soupy? Do you still like your breakfast simple and nothing fancy? Do you still want to smoke up very often and claim to do so but are terrible at handling yourself after? Do you still overanalyse everything and every word? Do you still think of me, ever, as anything? Do you still borrow books and not read them and never return them? Do you still scratch your chin when you are stuck somewhere? Do you still care? Because I do. I can never be just friends with you, you were right. It’ll be too hard to see you stand there in front of me without the prospect of touching your face later in the evening, It’ll be too hard to hear you talk about someone else or see you with another person. How did you do it? But then again what I feel for you still exists and you stopped feeling for me back in February 2012. So it’s okay. I don’t blame you or myself, I’m done playing the blame game, I just miss your face. I miss the part of me that was you, I miss the conversations we could have had and we do have in my head. I miss you so much that it physically hurts and there is this feeling of in my throat, it feels like someone is drowning there, in that abyss and it refuses to go away. You are in my Jack Daniels and my Led Zeppelin, you are in my favorite heels and favorite ring, you are all my favorite things and you have ruined them for me in a way because i don’t know if they are still my favorite because of their beauty or because i shared them as memories with you. I can’t separate one from another and it sucks. I miss you so. You made the right choice. This is the correct thing to do, but it makes me so sad. So sad that the ashes in my throat refuse to go away and the thought of your smile makes me sick.It’ll be okay, I’ll be fine. You do to me what the sun does to the first snow, you make me disappear into the pits of the gutter, make me feel insignificant and foolhardy for trying to bring the change, you do to me what cruel do to the stray, pick them up to bring them crashing down or not. you never did any of these things, I wish you had it’d make it easier for me to get over it but..

I’ll be okay, right? I hope you are okay too. You always appear to be fine, but i hope you really really are okay and fine. Oh and before i forget, I miss you a lot. I’ll write again, in the meanwhile i’ll try and be okay and you, go ahead make your mark. I’m here.

I’m done.

I feel so hopeless right now. So bloody hopeless. It’ almost as though 6 months under the blanket with the lights switched off and the music on full blast won’t help. I want to die, I really do. I never talk like this, but honestly right now I’m so tired, I’m so done. I’m so fucking tired.  All i want to do leave, and never come back. Leave everything and everyone, this need to so overpowering that I can’t breathe right now, or maybe my asthma is acting up. I don’t know. Even the end ( the doors) isn’t helping. This actually feels like the end. I’m so f’ed up. 

What I want.

Most people around me are so sure of what they want to do with their life. Whether good or bad, Lucrative or not, They sound so Sure and It freaks me out. I’m seventeen. I’ve been on this planet for 17 years and that is absolutely nothing, how am I supposed to know What I want to do for the rest of my life. How am I supposed to know what I want to do everyday for every year, for the rest of my life. Right now I should be focusing on getting out of a school, and not about getting into another one. I mean one moment I’m struggling with calculus and the next I’ve to make these major, life-altering decisions. What Do I know about Life anyway?

I’ve not seen anything beyond the front and the back of my porch.

It’s unnerving. I know what I don’t want to do, I’ve always been very sure of that but What I don’t know is what I want. I want to do too many things, and then not do them at all.

I mean I suppose for all of us, there are things that we should do, things which will give us the base, the foundation we need, the right things to do AND then there are things which are Next to impossible, waving at us, smiling at us and we know they aren’t wrong but impossible and they are dreams, and it’s scary going for them.

It’s funny how they show in movies, when someone has a suck-ass professional life and then they take up something they are really passionate about and their business begins to flourish, It’s utter bullshit. I mean we spend our life spinning dreams, making up conversations and scenarios in our head but they never really work out.

Things happen, along the same path occasionally but It’s never exactly what we want, but then again do we really know what we want?

I like and want to do everything that is new and shiny, I’m like a 3 year old. Anything that sounds fun and interesting, I want to do it. What I tend to forget is the path to reach that bloody point. It’s fun and shiny for THEM, because they are through with all the donkey work and Now Things are smooth.

Don’t we all want to smooth bit and the working hard bit is what we all want to ignore, Atleast I do it. I suppose when I grow up a little, see the world some more maybe then I’ll understand.

I’m not sure of what I want, most of the 8 billion residing on the planet aren’t, but I don’t want to end up as another statistic.

but then again, most of the 8 billion people residing on the planet want the same,right?

For what it’s worth.

I was watching a soap today, and a character in it said this little something which hit me hard, in the face. She said “I really… I really miss him. I want to tell him that I still love him. But I open my mouth and nothing comes out. And everything is terrible.”.

THIS thing that she said, unfortunately for me I understood exactly what she means. Day in and day out, whether wide awake or half sleep, whether driving or walking himself is always at the back of my mind. It has been a year, since we broke up (or he broke up with me) and I did move on (almost) But I did not. I have not budged from the spot where he left me. We are friends. Buddies. Mates. Whatever you want to call it. We’ve had a few “moments” when drunk, and a few “moments” when sober but that’s about it. I care about him, I really care about him and so I’m obnoxious when around him, instead of being cool, calm and composed or whatever that he is looking for. We talk regularly, have the same set of friends but he doesn’t care. And I can’t mash it down, what I feel for him and neither does he care.

He keeps telling me that I talk too much, or I’m imposing or I overact so on and so forth, which makes me feel like sheer unadulterated crap but i talk to him despite all this. I wonder why does he tell me all this, Why should he even notice my behaviour? and then I realize maybe I’m so annoying that he can’t help but notice how horribly stupid I am and How I end up making a fool of myself, everytime. everywhere. So I try to talk less, be less imposing and try to bring the change.

I know I sound really daft, ( I probably am too) but he is this super rational, really great guy so when he says something like that, I suppose it’s right because he isn’t the kind to talk unnecessarily ( I do that though and how! )

Anyway, I miss him. I miss him so much. I miss the way he smelt, my fingers in his hair, his hands, the way he’d play the guitar, that look on his face while listening to/ playing/ making music, that half smirk of his, the conversations, I miss him so much and there are times when I want to run to him and tell him all about everything and instead I don’t move and wave at him from a distance. There are times, while standing next to him, I smell him by chance and all these things come rushing back and there is so much that I want to say to him and I open my mouth with the scripted conversation in my head, but end up talking about something as trivial as the plan for the evening. Sometimes when he walks past me, I can’t breathe. I don’t mean metaphorically, I physically can’t breathe.

I miss what we had, because despite having been with a lot of guys I never had something like that. I could never talk about everything. All In all I miss him. I never thought it was possible to miss someone who is right there, so much. But it is. No guy can ever match up to him, because he put me up at a pedestal (and kicked my ass). I’m a stress eater, I eat A LOT When I’m stressed but when he starts hitting on these girls and goes out for drinks, I can’t. Eat. I feel like puking. I can’t sleep sometimes, I spend hours thinking about him. I know I’m being foolish and It’s time that I move on, I know all of that, But it just isn’t Happening. He happened when I was busy making plans, and now the plans have long dissolved, and he is long gone but I’m still here.

If he were a bad guy, who was abusive or nasty or a cheat, I’d convince my self that he isn’t worth the time and the energy, but the fault lies in me. I screwed up and always screw up. It’s this inborn talent, I have. I fucked up and ruined things but I tried. I tried so hard to put it back and get him back and tried to explain things, I tried to fight. I still am fighting for him, for us, for what we were but I don’t have any hope because in my heart of heart I know that it’s done. He’s done.

They say, “never give up, fight for what you want”

I’m fighting, I’m fighting so hard. I’m fighting myself too, and the universe refuses to notice the difference. It’s more of a need now. He makes me feel better even now, in this strange place he is home. He makes sense, when I can’t talk to my mother or my best friend and still takes my crap occasionally and reminds me constantly of my dream and tells me that I can do it, when I cease to believe in myself. He’s amazing, occasionally. Maybe because he has no choice. Maybe he thinks he’s obliged to do so. Maybe he is basically a decent soul.

He is my buddy. friend. Mate.

But he is so much more.

I open my mouth, trying to tell him, trying to explain, trying to not look like i’m trying too hard, trying to understand why, trying to do so much.. but I do nothing, I say nothing, I explain nothing, I understand nothing I just stand and smile at him and the universe, and try to remember how he smelt and do nothing…. and everything is So terrible.

But I’ll fight and try some more. Maybe some day. For what it’s worth.

Dear Bestfriend

Dear best friend,

I hope all is good. I’m fine here too, I guess. I sleep late and wake up even later (i’m not sure if it’s grammatically correct, but hey you are no grammar nazi. ) I talk too much and sleep even more. I think about you everyday and on bad days every second of the day. Things are okay, I guess. I guess a lot these days, I’m not certain of anything. The things I’ve been certain of all my life, I’m no longer sure of them. I’m no longer opinionated, or stubborn. I’m easy. I forgive, I forget, I see what I want to, I hear what I want to. I don’t know anything, best friend. I’m not even sure of you or us or anyone. Now , when I’m angry I sit and stare at the wall and do the same when I’m happy. I don’t have to tell everyone, everything anymore. I just tell almost everyone, almost everything. I especially omit the bits which people are supposed to know. 

I no longer, run back home to call you and tell you what happened, because I can’t. Instead I come back, stare at the phone, don’t even try to talk to the pre-recorded freak on the otherend of the phone telling me that you’ll be available in an instant. What is an instant anyway? It’s how you define it. In the course of life these 50 whatever days will seem like an instant, but right now they are longer that the year and half I spent with you. SO when upset, angry or confused, I stare at the phone, re-run the situation and the conversation in my head and imagine what would you say and try to tell myself the same.

It’s not getting any easier, with time. I just look for more flaws in what we have and ignore all the good bits. I hate the fact that you are so far away. I hate not being able to tell you things and not having to hear what you have to say about it. I hate not being able to sleep when I want to, I hate not knowing how you are and who you are with. I hate feeling so alone, in a room full of people. I miss your reactions and your laugh and I hate guessing. Guessing if you are fine and if I am fine, and if I’ll get what i want and if what you got is what you want and all the million other questions tha I can’t figure out. It’s hazy the future and so is the past because I wonder if it were true. I just feel stupid now. And alone, really alone. 

Dear best friend, everything is bleak and I miss you so much. A win isn’t a win till I can tell you about it, a day isn’t a day till you know all about it, my jokes are almost grey now. They are so bad that people think that I’m talking and not cracking a joke, I’ve to tell them that it was a joke and they look at me with wonder, thinking is she retarded? I can’t tell people how I really feel about something, I can’t tell my friends my secrets because I feel you need to know about them before they do and so I shut down and go back to staring at the wall. I talk endlessly and thoughtlessly so people don’t know how much I miss you. I miss you so much, It hurts. physically sometimes. I want to tell you about the book I read, the police chap I fought with, the new watch, my lost earring, the bruise on my arm, example 41 in integration, how this cloud looked like you, how I’m going to marry a chicken samosa seller, how i’m broke, about my new shoes, and the old ones, momo and his ticks (he’s friends wth them I guess), this window in my room which is like a rabbit, this song I heard recently, my favorite new shirt, about when I ate my newly grown nails amd I can go on forever.

I can’t be rational, like I promised and i can’t take care of myself, because I hate it. I hate taking care of myself, eating on time, wearing a jacket when cold, taking my medicines and being sane. I hate it. I hate being responsible and careful and I miss you. 

I miss you a lot, I never thought it was humanly possible to miss someone like this, best friend. I don’t care who you hung out with because I doubt they know you like I do. I guess they don’t. I love you, dear best friend. you are still here, I guess ; whispering jokes in my ears, making my hair before parties, crticising me when I’m stupid and never saying ‘ i told you so ‘ Instead you are here, laughing at my newest mistake and telling me how awesome I’m because I make your life so entertaining. You are my brightest star in the sky, my sirius. 

The sirius to my James, The harry to my hermione, galazy tab to my alarm clock and the yin to my yang.

Have I told you how much I miss you? I guess, I can never say this enough. 

Yours, I guess.

Always.