Cigarettes – 6! In a row! (FML!) Mind – Absolutely fucked, obviously! Current Song – lip syncing to Cry – Kelly Clarkson! Enough! Let’s start now, I want to vent!
This is one of those rants that apparently have no rhyme or reason – except this one does!
So, I am pissed! Why? I don’t know, but let’s see. There is this guy who is all about intellectualism and all that jazz. He is hot with his unkempt long beard *drools!* He gets me. And I feel a range of exotic sensations in my body each time he takes my name. And did I mention, he likes to take my name a lot…no no, A LOT while talking. So, you can imagine the mind fuck I have while talking to him.
And no, the story doesn’t end there. Obviously, he is all endearing and enchanting with the way he makes puppy eyes in those Instagram Selfies! Obviously if I were a self-respecting person, I wouldn’t spend that much time checking out his multiple seflies. I would simply take my notebook and pen, and would indulge in some undisturbed Carrie Diaries time. But NO! I have to just go online on Instagram and check out his latest selfie, which technically is not much different from the last selfie he posted, or the one before that.
Intellectualism and a blatant selfie posting spree doesn’t go hand in hand, right? Aren’t intellectuals and philosophers supposed to be rather aloof, reclusive perhaps, and just stay the fuck off sites like Instagram and whatnot? But no! He has to be there and post those insanely hot (perhaps repetitive for the ones who are not crushing on him) selfies, and go on fucking with my routine, and self esteem and the usual masturbation cycle!
Fuck my life!
And well, no, the mind fuck doesn’t end there. So this Monday, I decided to explore further deeper levels of falling in my own eyes. We were randomly talking…yeah, like on phone and all that, and I ASKED HIM OUT!!! Can you effin’ believe it? I – Me – the great blogger and the next big thing in the world of Gay Writers actually went ahead and asked a guy out. Obviously, for someone who is aware of his falling self esteem, I don’t really have a modest opinion of myself. Anyway, that’s not the deal! The thing is, HE ALSO SAID YES! For meeting “casually” and exploring the waters! Obviously, I got no sleep that Monday and hence was late for work. Now, my boss is an incredibly successful (and hot) lad, but he doesn’t suffer at the hands of foolish employees who are 40 minutes late to work!
Like falling down in my own eyes wasn’t enough, I had to fucking screw up with my work life as well. And that’s just the top layer of it. Trust me! The next day I am having another random conversation with this one heck of a guy. And obviously he is driving me crazy with the way he speaks my name. Obviously I want him to be my Christian Grey and take me to his red room of pain, because I already I did surrender to him. And so I shift the conversation to finalizing the plans. It was unnerving to see how he switched from being mushy to being cold and aloof in an instant.
“Listen Anuj (fuck!!!) don’t carry any hopes or ideas in your head. You are very adorable and funny, but expectations always breed disappointments.”
Err…ouch! Heart = Broken!
The fucker just went back on his word in just a day. And has such a polite and gentleman-like way of putting it across. Although I did recover from my heart crushing down into a thousand pieces of gloom quite quickly, I still couldn’t hide the disappointment in my face.
“Don’t get me wrong Anuj (there he goes, yet again!) You are a very funny and interesting person, and I would love it if something works out between us. But still, don’t carry any ideas in your mind.”
Like seriously? Are you fucking kidding me? I get all that shizz! You might be cute and hot and intense and what-the-fuck-ever, but I am not that dumb! I know it doesn’t serve to dwell on dreams and forget reality. Okay whatever, Dumbledore told me that! Big deal? I also know well enough to not build castles in the sky! But dafuq! I cannot just stop dreaming. Or imagining scenarios. Those are my business to deal with. And I can deal with. But what a fucking mundane and ordinary life it would be, if I wouldn’t dream. You can be god’s gift or gaykind and womankind, but that’s no excuse for you to come into my life and tell me I shouldn’t dream much! Or have hopes and ideas and whatever!
Obviously I didn’t go all narcotic monologue-ish on him. I save my innermost thoughts to later put on my blog, which apparently I am not too sure if anyone reads. That’s not the point here. Although, I did tell him that I have lived through life enough to not be that impulsive and kiddish (obviously I was trying to hold back that tear…aww! What am I? Fifteen?) and conveyed how I was just thinking about giving friendship a shot.
Seriously! Friendship! I used that age old clichéd euphemism. Oh let’s just be friends. Did I not learn anything from When Harry met Sally! That sort of a thing never really happens. Two guys cannot be friends until both of them are bottoms – or strictly tops. And that’s not even the real case scenario. That’s just our deep rooted patriarchy, getting us to conform to one role. Again, that’s not the point here!
The point is, HE WAS FINE WITH GIVING FRIENDSHIP A SHOT! We decided to meet in CP over the weekend. CP in Delhi, India is like your Trafalgar Square in London, or the Times Square in NYC! Maybe it’s not, that doesn’t matter now, does it? The point us, weekend comprise of two days – Saturday and Sunday! And if on a Sunday night I am writing this rant, that obviously means he didn’t turn up! As in, after that conversation, he just went haywire. My only encounters with him happened over his Instagram profile. And that is all!
Knowing fully well that my self-respect would now be battered beyond repairing, I didn’t ping him first. Hey, that’s the Carrie Bradshaw complex – I decided I wouldn’t be the first one to call, and if he never called again, I would think of him fondly…as an asshole!
So here I am, lip syncing to Cry by Kelly Clarkson, just because I am having one of those Bridget Jones’ mood swings! He was gone totally silent on me, and I don’t wish to contact him again. If someone is really interested in me, he would reciprocate right? If I am chasing after him, I am just becoming Julia Roberts of My Best Friend’s Wedding…and we all know what happened to her. I learn about life from rom-coms, so I am not going to repeat the mistakes my favorite heroine did.
But it’s all over now! He didn’t call. At 25, alongside dealing with mid-life crisis, I am also dealing with the teenage troubles of a crush that totally crashed! And I am pissed! I am fucking pissed! He used to say everything right. He was just perfect with the way he would answer my call with a goofy hello, patiently listen, and share his favorite songs and hopes and dreams with me. He even read this random blog of mine, and we discussed philosophies. We could talk about Dalai Lama for heaven’s sake! And yet, one fine day, he just disappeared.
I can call him an asshole now, drown myself in the smoke of the cigarettes and go on listening to the painfully melodious voice of Kelly Clarkson, song after another. But what’s the point. He chose to not give us a song. And I feel a tinge of disappointment, and yes, despite my strong effort to see the best in the situation, I still do see it as a stab on my self-esteem.
When would I fucking detach? When would I have a person interested in me enough to turn up on a date – or to at least inform me that we won’t be able to make it? Why don’t I get to have a normal life? If not the red room of pain, at least some hearts and flowers? If not even that, at least someone to go out for a movie, have a nice company over drinks and grills. Despite my whacky love life, I am a smart, successful, talented and sort of good looking person. What am I missing? What is it that I am doing wrong?
Okay whatever! I know there are no answers to that. I would change the song…perhaps to Bella’s lullaby! You know what, I know all these rom-coms are stupid, and mawkish, and it doesn’t really happen that ways in the reality. But living a life that I have lived for so long, I would still let myself indulge in the fuzzy feeling of rom-coms. At least in fiction, at least in someone’s imagination, at least in some virtual far off world love still find a way to exist! And I would never cut my chords from that world! I just won’t do it! If it comes at a price…well, I am already paying that price! So let it be!
At the end of a hard day, it is good to know that I remained strong. That I could utilize my skill of writing, channelize the hurt into a blog post and put it out there. Hence now, I get to sleep! Enough said! Tomorrow is a new day…I would make new mistakes to learn from! Good night dear reader…perhaps you just wanted a good shag but somewhere down the line read my blog post! Do drop in a comment – and don’t be mean please – so that I would know I didn’t exactly drop this entry into a void. That some distant remote stranger stood witness to my absolutely foolish mind fuck!