Saturday, February 24

Sleep...

... or lack thereof
I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks...
These last few days, I've either been fretting over my exam which I have trouble studying for since the bloody accident, or else I'm thinking about the woman I still love, or else I just ache and the painkillers aren't doing their job.
A few days ago, the doc prescribed some ADD medication to get me to sleep, and just as I was falling asleep, my dog decided that his stomach had just about had it and proceeded to crap a slushy mess all over the bathroom floor, a scent(stench?) which can be quite overpowering upon waking up. I was shaken awake, tossed a shirt and thrown out with the dog, to get him to get the rest of it out, but the dog was only too happy to walk a few steps, look at me, and reassure me that he'd got it all out IN the house. Now this is an almost 6 year old part lab, part newfoundland, a good 45 kilos and pretty well potty trained, so his stomach must've really been awful for him to leave that lovely mess.
The last few months I'd been getting the best sleep of my life. I would talk to my beloved late into the night, and put her to sleep listening to voice, and keep talking softly until I heard her breathing change until I knew she was asleep. On waking up, I would call her, and hear the most beautiful sound I knew, her adorable morning grumbling about waking up. Those days, I had great hair days, and knew nothing could possibly go wrong. Come to think about it, the day I got hit, I hadn't spoken to her, so maybe fate was telling me not to let her slip out of my life.
Finally, I got a "Please go to sleep, for me" from my love, and I had no choice but to obey, so I managed to clock in about 3 hours of fitful sleep both nights I received those instructions, but no more than that.
Now my uncle's been over. I don't know what prompted him to come see me from dehradun, but he felt it was his responsibility to hover over my bed and wait for the exact moment at 10 in the morning that I was just falling asleep, and then shake me awake to take my meds, or else to eat something, or some other inane thing. When he asked me why I wasn't sleeping at night now, considering I wasn't in so much pain, I was just bursting to reply "Because you fucking snore so loud", but I held it in, for now.
I usually sleep in my boxers, but since the uncle was sharing my bed, I wore tracks, but refused to wear a shirt at night. Last night, when I got into bed around 2, he started snoring, and I distinctly remember taking that shirt that I wasn't wearing, and flicking his face with it. I know it wasn't a nice thing to do, and
to quote abhishek bachan, "It felt good", but at least he stopped snoring long enough for me to fall asleep.
I'm not exactly well rested right now considering I was up by 6, but at least I got a few hours of sleep in, and now that he's gone back to dehradun, I should get a decent night's sleep, finally. If no one decides to call at 1:30 that is... no wait, I'm just going to turn my phone off.
Sleep well people, dark circles don't suit everyone... at least not me.

Monday, February 19

Karma

It's not a word in my vocabulary, or at least it hasn't until now. Today, I learned about karma.
So in the days following my previous post, I've made some major, major mistakes. Let's go, day by day.
Didn't let her sleep, didn't let her sleep, didn't let her sleep. I wanted to get out of the constant fighting, so I fought to not fight. Now we all know how well that does, and so, both of us said and did some rather upsetting things, more from me though, so guilt was there too. I got back in touch with this lady friend who I have on just two occasions in the last eight months spent time with, just rambling about a messed up relationship. The kind of friend where you just click, but won't ever get into a relationship with, someone you just talk to, with no strings attached, and have no contact with for another four months. I spent the night talking to her, letting out all the broken bitterness in my heart, and unfortunately, she decided to attach a string, and wanted to meet me, annoying the hell out of me.
I promptly took this annoyance out on the woman I still loved, the next day, without any sense of anything. I woke her up, something I'd been doing everyday for the past four months and wanted to continue doing, and instead of waking up to a usual, 'Good morning sweetheart' in my good natured, sweet voice, I gave her a rude, curt, 'Morning', and proceeded to get her to wake up, not at all like I'd been doing up until then. Over the course of the day, we exchanged words here and there, but never anything of substance, and deep down, I knew things were only going to get worse. At night, again, fighting to not fight.
Woke her up, a little better, the following morning, and asked her to come see me at some point. she said it was iffy as she had an assignment, and so I went out with some of the guys with instructions to smack me every time I mentioned her. I came out of that rather bruised, and proceeded to join another friend with no strings attached for some salsa'ing, merengue'ing, and bachara'ing. Since this was my first salsa session, and it was a free dance floor at tapas, my friend was inclined to dance with some of the more experienced salsa dancers, being an instructor herself, so I grabbed myself a fresh lime and collapsed on a couch on the side.
Now I refer to myself as an 'Ex lady-killer' for good reason. No longer do I want to indulge in my 'Monogamous single dating' that I'd been doing for the last few years, and I just wanted to be with my beloved, but for some reason, it seemed that 'unhitched' was written on my forehead. No less than seven women came up to me, and asked me to dance with them. Since I wanted to get my mind off her, I proceeded to dance with them all, and for some reason was annoyed when four of them took my number. I got home around 2, not knowing where the former love of my life was, or if she was home safe and sound, so I whiled away most of the night talking to a friend from bombay, and then got up around 6 and sat down to study for my supplementary. Around 10 I started work on this project, and from the moment I sat down, an endless procession of phone calls began. Friends, family who I hadn't spoken to in months, and three of the women from the night before proceeded to piss me off more and more, so when finally my love called me at 12, the first thing she did after waking up, I was, again, annoyed, rude, and unenthusiastic about the fact that she missed me and wanted to come see me. She left to wash up, and called me after a while, and I, a little calmer, assured her that I wanted her to come, and was working on my project, and would call her later. Later when I called, she was cooking, so I sat down to study for the supplementary again, and she called in between, and got annoyed at me for answering, but assured me that she'd be over by 6:30. Now know that the day before, I'd said that she wouldn't be able to see me that day, as she's never free on sundays, but I said alright, come, see you soon. To my chagrin, she was getting some of her work done around 6:30, and said she'd be a little late. I told her it's alright, I'd wait, but she said something a little louder to her sister, and I heard it as her snapping at me, so I snapped back, telling her not to bother coming, and I was right when I said she wouldn't be coming to see me. Ten minutes later, feeling bad, I called to apologize, but she was in a basement, and her voice sounded like she was crying, after which the line got cut and her phone had no more signal. I made the single biggest mistake a man could ever make at this point.
I called her best friend.
Out of concern of course, just to see if she could call and get through, but still, an unforgivable offense. After a few words here and there, one very pointed question, and a comment that undermined my own faith in what I thought I knew, I went off on a lengthy tirade about the problems we'd been facing and proceeded to tell her a lot of things that she wasn't aware of, and wasn't going to be informed about for a while. Fully knowing all this, I went on, and on, and on, full of hurt, telling even myself some things for the first time. She asked me to let her know how things went.
When my beloved came home from a family dinner, she proceeded to tell me how immature I'd been acting, and how she was beyond annoyed at me, and that she could cut me off like she'd cut off a lot of other men, that I was almost as bad as another man from her past, one I detested, and that all men were, well, dogs. While other men used all sorts of sex tricks to make women feel useless, I used my own style of mental trauma and anguish to make her regret, I repeat, regret taking me for granted, and feeling she knew me. She felt she no longer knew me, and was wrong about me, and she wasn't willing to give me a second chance. In a moment of weakness, questioning forgiveness in love, I texted said best friend and told her what she had said, expecting best friend to delete the message and call me in the morning.
Neither of those two things happened, and during the course of the following day, the message was discovered, upon which a fight broke out between the two of them, one I was given no prior warning of.
Here concludes my series of mistakes, I was to pay dearly for.
Back to the morning. I didn't call my beloved to wake her, and I was taking an auto rickshaw, and we got clipped on a turn. My auto toppled over sideways, and turning to save my face, I banged my head, rather hard, onto the road. The rest of the auto decided to roll over onto me. Other parts of my anatomy were jumping up and down exclaiming their pain, but my head seemed to be ringing with the chords of a guitar that had been smashed into it by a scorned woman. I stumbled into another auto and went home, and climbed into bed, hoping to get rid of the pain. I called my mum and couldn't get through, so I called Her, and she got worried, extremely hyper, and started making plans to get me to a doctor as soon as humanly possible. I went to the doc, got a ct and an x-ray for my arm, and everything seemed pretty alright, and she came to see me in the evening. She asked me if there was anything I wanted to declare, and I said there wasn't, and when she asked me if I'd called the best friend, and I told her no, I swear I haven't. I don't know what came over me, what possessed me to do it, knowing that just because she asked, she already knew. But I shook the foundation of any relationship. I lied. She dropped the bomb on me. Told me she'd found the message, and gotten the talk out of best friend, and that now she felt even worse, and that she didn't trust me anymore, as I had just lied to her. She decided that wasn't enough, and decided to cut deeper. Previously, someone had been on her email account, and as far as we knew, I was the only person with the password. She accused me of being that someone, and no matter how much I promised and swore, she refused to trust me anymore.
I finally went back and got in touch with a now very sick best friend, and let her know that I held nothing against her for the retelling, since she was in fact the best friend. Fully knowing this would get back to my love, I asked her to lie about something I knew she wouldn't, and I didn't even want her to, another thing that would get back to Her.
Maybe I'll be able to set things straight once she's actually willing to talk to me again for my insincere request, maybe one mistake was to take the fall for other peoples' suggestions and actions, since in the end, they were still my mistakes, but either way, I was accountable. I thought love was all about forgiveness, if not forgetting. I've forgiven things without even mentioning them to her, and thought she could too. She's cut me out, and won't let me back in, and I'm still coming to terms with what I actually want back. I've fought for love, and I've lost, and I'm shattered. I will pick up the pieces, after I find them, considering she's still got my heart, but moving on will take time.

Today, all the fighting, all the mistakes, all the shit, has caught up to me. My karma has caught up to me, and justice has been meted out.

I stand here at last, I've lost some of the faith in myself, for losing a little faith in my love, my only faith, and I've lost some of my infallible honesty, even if that lie was insincere. I've made all the fatal mistakes, but I'm still confused, still lost.
It's time for my Renovatio, my rebirth. It's time to find myself again.

Thursday, February 15

Lost

Sometimes I wonder if I'm living in the right world... A world filled with alcohol, promiscuity, hate, isolation, dejection and cynicism... Fortunately (or unfortunately), my life is free of the former three, but my own little world, the few people that matter enough to me, the oft-replaced woman I choose to shower with my affections, my work and classes, seems empty.
I wake up every morning bright and early with that sinking, empty feeling, trudge over to the bathroom, ponder over my life on the crapper, and then get on with the rest of my day, just as disheartening as the last.
Sometimes I wish I could fill it with a bit of it's former luster. Growing up, I traveled across the world after my dad the diplomat, saw and experienced things I could've perhaps done without. Sometimes I wish could have my childhood back, a childhood I never really came to terms with, forced to grow up by the mean, nasty world.
I live today on the threshold of adulthood, but I've seen and done things that most people shouldn't have even heard about. The accepted undergraduate life doesn't appeal to me, I just can't sit in a coffeehouse with a bunch of random folks I can barely stand for hours on end. The women around me are never good enough, never, mature enough, and the ones that are, have the perennial age gap on their minds. You see, I'm into older women, and I've always dated women up to six years older than me, and the only one younger than me I've been with is the reason they're all older.
How far would you go for love... I told myself that I'd never lose myself for anyone, and somewhere along that path, I got lost. I met a girl, she was hitched, I was hitched, but we got along great anyway. There was something fated, something uncanny, something, inexplicable. Everything about us was compatible, and we met under circumstances that made no sense. I was in a teetering month-long relationship, ready to end in a heartbeat, and she was in a shaky, but very, very long one. Within a month we were both single, and found ourselves indulging in harmless flirting and hours and hours and hours on the phone, getting to know each other, which moved on to frequent dining, lots of music shared, and frequent admissions of being extremely comfortable around me, so I continued to be open with her. We got closer and closer, and as these things go, I fell for her. I fell for this one who knew me inside out, who I couldn't hide a thing from, and I let her know. I knew she loved me too, but the fact that she was four years older than me stopped her from expressing that love. She cared too much about me to have to lose me at some later point, just in case her parents didn't approve, a risk she apparently wasn't willing to take.
For more than a month, I'd been telling myself we'd only ever be friends, and suddenly, when I paid attention, I was in her arms. Somewhere, somehow, we wound up trying it out anyway, and I felt every touch, every kiss, every word, and loved her more. But she decided to pull back, insisted that she didn't love me the way I thought I knew she did, insisted that she couldn't be with me, wasn't ready yet, I meant too much, she just couldn't hurt me, not realizing that she'd just shattered me completely, all over again. This was something that another had done to me, and she was fully aware of it. I never made that connection, never told her how much it hurt me coming from her, since she meant so much more to me than anyone else ever did, but hurt I did.
I loved her more than I'd ever loved before, completely and unconditionally, expected nothing from her in return, was willing to do anything for her, to the point of seeing her with someone else, as long as she was happy. I stopped even noticing other women on the street, stopped spending time with any who were even slightly interested in me, because they all just annoyed me, made me feel like I was being held back from her. I tried to bring her back to me, tried to return to that old state, where everything was just perfect, before we found the love, maybe so we could find it again, but I've made mistake after mistake, each an attempt to appreciate her, but each tanking as badly as anything could. I fear I'm sending her away from me. Just recently I made the biggest mistake. Trying to fix that, I then stepped back completely until she was ready for me, and I gave her all the space she could need.
I have no regrets, I live by that rule. I don't regret what happened, and I know that won't stop me for living the way I do. I won't stop loving her, and I won't stop giving, it's all I know how to do. I haven't felt her touch for over two weeks, and I haven't spoken to her at any length in about as long. I miss her, I yearn for her, I continue to love her, but I feel like I've invested too much, lost too much of myself to live without her.