Home

New place. New people. New city. New country.

Nobody knows who i am. Nobody knows my past. Nobody knows whats going on in my head. They don't even know what the expressions on my face mean.

I can be whoever I want to be. I'm torn between who I was and who I want to suddenly be. I fear falling into the same patterns with new people.

A stupid mistake and my cover gets blown. I can't be someone else - Reinventing myself isn't as easy as I thought it was. I'm just back to being my old self - the same thoughts, same dialogues, same tears, same expectations.

Are the people really new then? Is the place really new? Does it matter if the country is different?

I feel the same way I used to back "home".

Only, now I feel it 2500 miles away.

Favourites

The feeling of having the cold wind whip across your face....
The way a cup of coffee warms you up on a rainy day...
Having a friend hug you and making you feel like it'll be okay...
Sharing a smile with a stranger on the bus...

Having your dog sit beside you and cuddle while you cry your heart out....

Drowning the pain in a scalding hot shower....

Singing loudly in the bathroom....

Resting your head on someone's shoulder....

Looking into someone's eyes and failing to hide your emotions....

Listening to someone tell you how proud they are of you...

Making someone else laugh...

Cycling in the rain...

Day dreaming at work...

Playing mind numbing games online...

Staying up on the phone talking to someone you thought you'd lost....

Using your old crayons to colour a rainbow....

Handling the biggest challenges with your head straight ahead....

Manage to get up and pull yourself together after being knocked down the hill...

Singing to someone and have them sit speechless when you're done...

Listen to the person you love tell you how they love you...

Eating a big meal to make yourself feel better...

Having someone to call in the middle of the night...

Dancing in the first shower of May...

Missing someone so much that your throat dries up and your heart tugs when you think of them..

And these are a few of my favourite things.

Exceptions

The sun sets and the sky turns a deep shade of pink. The birds fly over my head, heading to a place they call home. There's a light breeze teasing the loose strands of hair across my face. The moon's getting brighter by the second.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. The tears have dried, the wounds are bandaged, and my heart's finally beating again. The pain's almost gone - it's just a dull reminder now. Everything that used to be doesn't matter anymore. My dreams of an "us" is now a distant memory.

I even manage a tiny smile.

Some people end up with the ones they fall in love with. But some don't. We can't all be the exception. Not everyone's life becomes a love story. Some of them are meant to last while others fade away. Heart breaks are more common than I thought they were. And for once, I'm average too.

I'm not the exception. We are two different people with two different stories. Mine's just not happened yet.

"Us"

I lay in bed with my eyes wide open.

I can't sleep because you seem to have made yourself a priority in my head.

Things you said, your expressions, our fights, our conversations, the way you looked at me, the way you smell, the way your hair feels - they all stroll across my mind.

I turn to my side, desperate to change what I'm thinking about.

But I have no luck. You're still on my mind. Your I-love-you texts flash across my eyes.

I miss you. I miss the comfort we shared. Maybe I screwed up by telling you that I was in love with you - and now, I regret it every minute of everyday.

I lay on my back and sigh. I think of the Saturday morning conversations, the times when we had conversations with our eyes, the secret texts, the concerned phone calls.

And then the tears start. The big lump in my throat melts and the tears fall, staining my pillow.

I don't want the apartment with yellow bathroom tiles. I don't want twin babies. I don't want arguments over dinner. I don't want to ride behind you in your bike as you drop me off to work every morning. I don't even want to wake up every morning to see your face. I don't want you to make me tea.

I want you to make pervy jokes in an attempt to disgust me. I want you to put your arm around me just so that no one else does. I want you to send me random I-love-you texts. I want you to call me on Saturday morning and discuss morning hormonal changes. I want you to tell me how you'll kick any guy who tries to get close to me.

I want you back. I want us back.

Till death do us apart

She sat on the edge of her bed and let the tears fall. They were hot with fury as they rolled down her cheeks. She crushed the sheet of paper she was holding. She just couldn't take it anymore.

She flung the crushed piece of paper across the room and slipped onto the floor, wailing.

She was so sick of it. So disgusted; so exhausted.

All she wanted to do was to hide somewhere, shake off all her worldly responsibilities and take time to heal her broken heart.

She was tired of always having to make the first move. She was tired of the guys who chatted her up, only to tell her later that they had girlfriends. She was tired of hoping and wishing that there will be that one guy who will make it all better - that guy was too busy making someone else's life better. She was tired of waiting to be noticed. She was so sick of it all that even her tears didn't make anything better.

She curled up on the floor and weeped. She cried for all the times she was made a fool; she cried for every time she believed in a guy. She cried for every single memory that was etched in her heart. She cried for her hopelessness - her shattered beliefs.

As she cried, a part of her died and got washed away in those tears. The memories flashed across her eyes, putting her into a daze. She let all her pain, embarrassment, sorrow, hurt, rejection and wounds pass through her. She felt every emotion intensely - she writhed uncontrollably.

She was done with this.

And as she lied there, limp and exhausted, she felt hollow and empty - incapable of trust or emotion from now on.

L.O.V.E.

Love.

Something that I believed would be my "nirvana". Love, one word that can make anyone smile. It made me smile. I thought being in love was the best feeling in the world. For a brief period, maybe it even was.

I associated love with endless hours of silly grinning, whispering on the phone in the middle of the night, typing out little black hearts at the end of every sentence, having a "perfect" picture framed on your table, long walks, electrifying kisses and the most exclusive hugs you can get in a lifetime.

You're probably thinking how naive all that sounds. Well, if you aren't, then I definitely am.

I grew up a little, got into a relationship. The meaning of love changed. Love meant endless hours of talk on the phone, honesty, the meaning of forever, dinner at a cozy place, talks about life, sharing our deepest darkest secrets, a relationship without judgement, laying in each others' arms through the night, heated arguments that ended with I-love-you's, hugs that froze the world around you and kisses that made you feel like you belonged.

But that passed too. The same "love" that I had given so much meaning to, left me broken hearted, lonely and desperately searching for the scattered pieces of my life.

I grew up a little more, shook off every bit of naiveness I had in me and looked straight ahead.

I started questioning the very basic associations I made with the word "love".

The little black hearts, the whispering on the phone, the love songs, the perfect hugs, the dinner dates, the kisses - they all went out the window.

Instead, hurt, rejection, caution, tear stained pillows, bars of chocolate, heart-break songs, disbelief and dismissive thoughts moved in.

When I was younger, I faced rejection from a boy who sat two seats ahead of me in class and spoke to me only when he wanted me to help him out with his artwork. I was hurt, but my heart still believed that love was wonderful.

I faced rejection again from a boy who would sing to me on the phone because I loved his voice so much. I still believed in the existence of a happy ending.

The boy who became my best friend and had me by his side the whole time rejected me too. My belief flickered, my heart cracked but I still believed.

The boy I thought I would spend forever with, changed. Endless nights of yelling and crying resulted in a broken relationship. It also resulted in a shattered heart and a belief that had seized to exist.

So here I am today, one year later - still trying to figure what I think love is. Hurt or joy? Acceptance or rejection? Security or false hopes? Little black hearts or the shattered one I'm nursing?

What is it? What is Love?

The little green button

She sat holding her phone, hesitating to dial the number. Her thumb lingered around the 'call' button.

Call him.

Don't.

Call.

No way.

Just hit the god damn button!

Stop acting stupid. It's the red button.

She sighed and closed her eyes as she put her head back. She stayed silent as she emptied her mind. She pushed all her thoughts away and just sat there, as the world stopped turning for her.

After what seemed like forever, she opened her eyes. There were no tears. No pain. No hurt. She put the phone down on the couch and got up. She straightened out her top and walked out of the room.

The number on her phone remained undialled.