August 15, 2010

[4] Now something on the surface, it stings.

Dear Diary (she writes),

He's amazing, he truly is. I can not believe that someone with his sort of personality could make me this happy and feel so complete in life. He completes me. I believe this isn't just my affection, and that he has thoughts similar to mine about me. I'm not quite that bad, am I? I love the feeling when he hesitates and then holds my hand, laughs and then pauses. Then laughs again. Almost tucks his hair behind his ear, till he's told that he doesn't have long hair to be brushed aside, and he's just touching his sandpaper-y sideburns all along. The silly little grin always plastered on his face. The two bracelets he always wears; the Rudraksha and the black band. The smell of CK One on him. I always had this feeling within me, that nobody would come around and love me. Hold me, hold my hand, kiss my cheek first and not always my lips. Stroke my hair, play with it, put his arms around my waist and not care about anything else. Laugh at my lame jokes even though they're not funny at all. Not be cheesy and lovey dovey, yet be sickly romantic, so much that others actually feel like cringing. Not giving a damn about what others think. It's this brilliant feeling that completes me. He does.

She puts the pen down, and rolls back on to her bed. She half-smiles, till the thoughts start all over again. She can't believe she's writing things like this. Whatever happened to her one year ago? Anti-romance, anti-relationships, anti all things that had anything to do with love. Getting physical was one thing for her, but feeling real emotion was another. She'd given up all hope she had in anything real, after all the things that had happened. She doesn't know what to think. She suddenly feels highly stupid about all the things that she just put down on paper. So silly, she thinks. Nothing lasts forever. Within a few weeks, or months, he's going to be gone. Distracted by the thought of another girl, way prettier, with a better body, straighter hair, longer shapely nails. One of those Gucci and Prada girls, as she'd mentioned to him. In the end, that's all they look for. What was she thinking? She could never keep him happy. A boy like him needs someone equally optimistic to balance him. Not someone with erratic mood swings like her's, who randomly switches off from the rest of the worlds and closes herself up in a coocoon. He's going to eventually realise it, and leave her. She's sure of it.
She cries herself to sleep, with a feeling of self-loathe.

1 comment:

  1. this character is the MOST like you. out of all ur snippets. because shes the one who is happy and then punishes herself for beign hapy for no valid reason.