As I sit with nothing to do, I think about him. About 57000th time since the morning. I take out my phone from my pocket.I look at the screen of my phone with disappointment. Nothing. No texts and no missed calls. Please don't get me wrong, there are 7 unread texts, some of them are actually from some people I like. But, there is no text from Shashank, the guy I desperately want it to be from.
An incident of this kind brings my life to a standstill. An infinite loop of some type begins in my mind with his name and things related to him taking over. I can barely think about anything else. I get my friends worried because, like today, I don't read their texts and don't reply to them either.
Some of them who are familiar with these situations that I fall into, call by evening to make sure that I am okay. Some of them call to make fun of me. Both these things help, it takes my mind off the loop for a little while and lightens the mood.
I love these people who care about me and hate the guy who puts me through so much misery. And yet, the paradox.
By the time, I have finished talking to my friends and cursed Shashank enough, it is late at night. And I am very angry. I have thought of a million reasons why he may not have called and I can't seem to justify any of them. A lot of bad thoughts creep in and it takes a lot of effort to get rid of them. I tell myself that there is nothing to worry about. I hate myself that I have nothing better to do. But, hating him right now just seems like a more relevant thing to do, so I get back to it.
It is late at night and I am sleepy but can't fall asleep because I am still looking at my cell phone.
And when my phone finally vibrates in my hand, I wake up hurriedly from my half-asleep position. I answer the call and shout. I tell him what I went through the entire day. It is not something new, he knows about it very well and yet he listens to me patiently. After having shouted at him as much as I could, I am surprised that he hasn't done much talking. And when he finally does, all he says is sorry. And then tells me that he had a busy day but that it wasn't an excuse good enough. And apologizes again. It occurs to me that I had just over-reacted and am surprised that he doesn't think that I am crazy.
A silence falls in the conversation when he has apologized and I have nothing to say.
I finally ask him, "Are you sure that you don't think I am crazy?"
He smiles and answers that he could never possibly think so. He goes on to explain that statement but I don't pay any attention.
I am just glad that he understands. He always does. It is just one of the zillion million reasons, I love him. :)
An incident of this kind brings my life to a standstill. An infinite loop of some type begins in my mind with his name and things related to him taking over. I can barely think about anything else. I get my friends worried because, like today, I don't read their texts and don't reply to them either.
Some of them who are familiar with these situations that I fall into, call by evening to make sure that I am okay. Some of them call to make fun of me. Both these things help, it takes my mind off the loop for a little while and lightens the mood.
I love these people who care about me and hate the guy who puts me through so much misery. And yet, the paradox.
By the time, I have finished talking to my friends and cursed Shashank enough, it is late at night. And I am very angry. I have thought of a million reasons why he may not have called and I can't seem to justify any of them. A lot of bad thoughts creep in and it takes a lot of effort to get rid of them. I tell myself that there is nothing to worry about. I hate myself that I have nothing better to do. But, hating him right now just seems like a more relevant thing to do, so I get back to it.
It is late at night and I am sleepy but can't fall asleep because I am still looking at my cell phone.
And when my phone finally vibrates in my hand, I wake up hurriedly from my half-asleep position. I answer the call and shout. I tell him what I went through the entire day. It is not something new, he knows about it very well and yet he listens to me patiently. After having shouted at him as much as I could, I am surprised that he hasn't done much talking. And when he finally does, all he says is sorry. And then tells me that he had a busy day but that it wasn't an excuse good enough. And apologizes again. It occurs to me that I had just over-reacted and am surprised that he doesn't think that I am crazy.
A silence falls in the conversation when he has apologized and I have nothing to say.
I finally ask him, "Are you sure that you don't think I am crazy?"
He smiles and answers that he could never possibly think so. He goes on to explain that statement but I don't pay any attention.
I am just glad that he understands. He always does. It is just one of the zillion million reasons, I love him. :)
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