Heartscream

This is hurting me all over again.



I was curled up with a book in my favourite seat after eons deprived of this luxury, I'd wrinkled my brow in sympathy for the protagonist, and laughed at a smart bit of comic by the author; when suddenly, still holding the book but detached from it, I started tearing.

And it wouldn't stop.

I haven't cried this way for months. I was going fine, I'd made my Decision, why'd you have to pop up again like a d*mn weed when all I want is to be able to look out my window and smell the roses?

The repeated irony never fails to turn up a corner of my mouth - makes me laugh, even. I'm sure now God has a sense of humour in His timing and I'm glad to know this side of Him but that last time, it wasn't funny. More like exasperating and impossible.






Today I drove on the road where you realised we'd forgotten the chicken sandwich. And I stood on the black black escalators in an outfit that wasn't purple.



I miss the way you blink and how it undermines the seriousness of the topic, and of your stoneface.
I miss the way you walk on your toes, always odd to me but at the same time so a part of you that it, too, I embrace.
And I miss the way you speak, with that little upward inflection at the introductory line when you're explaining something to me.
I miss being part of your life, 'cause - face it - you're still very much part of mine.


And that is why I got rid of seeing bits of the life of someone who doesn't want to know about my life,
why I walked mechanically and felt my own face turn to stone,
why I won't pick up when Nobody is calling.




I know now, firsthand, that the ones who experience the highest peaks, the most radiant joy, are the same ones who go through the emptiest tunnels, the deepest grief. And that's the reason why I would need someone of a more moderate temperament. Two of my kind would only destroy each other.

My mind, it connects everything to something else I know. It's wonderful, I appreciate this innate ability but when it comes to you, it only makes me want to disconnect heart and mind. It makes me feel like being born without this way of thinking seems more like a superpower than anything else. An orange will always be an orange to you. But to me, it is laughter, kindness and a mini caveman.

Just like how the mention of grilled chicken is enough to make me squint in amusement, 'cause in my mind's eye you're wearing an apron and it's the most unmanly thing you've ever worn.
Imagine this happening every day with every saucer of chilli I push aside, every time I put on my contact lens and remember a broken promise, every custard concoction I see when I enter a bakery, every ...everything.






It's true that if a guy wants to find you, he will.
But it's also true that if a girl doesn't want to be found, she won't be.



I cried and cried. When I returned my father's call, I wasn't even coherent. Took an hour to get ready for supper with him. We talked about cares greater than my own, impending losses more calamitous than mine, and for a picture I remember the garlic naan that looked more like a pizza. Also, I learnt to never have garlic naan the last thing before going to bed, 'cause it stays in your throat and greets you first thing in the morning.




Still it drizzled heavily.
I came home in a quieter state of mind and read what Jaf had to say. And started crying again, not so much out of sadness this time but because I was deeply moved,
for he'd said everything I needed to hear. =')

Then my fairy godbrother called and for the second time that night I sobbed into the phone with a shocked man on the other side.
And these loving people, they picked up my shards and set me on my feet again.




You're like a disease that won't be cured. Luckily my best friend is a doctor-to-be.
Actually, that's not relevant. =P
I'm just glad to know (or rather, have known) you both.





P.s.


The card whose delivery made me go,
"I never want to do something so stupid for a long, long time."
Teehee.