Thursday, January 05, 2017

Confessions of an ex-girlfriend

Confessions of an ex-girlfriend by Lynda Curnyn, was the second book I read. Veronica decides to die by Pualo Cohelo being the first.

A chicklit, the book is narrated by the main character Emma, who is heartbroken after her boyfriend follows his bliss to Hollywood leaving Emma behind and the various people who are there to help her as well as to add to her agony. 10 years have passed since I read that book and hardly remember much about it except the title. Even as I read the book, I knew that one day I would write something with the title. Laughing at the wits of the author, it was like I was preparing myself to one day be an ex-girlfriend. I tried using the title for Lux and Sood. I tried real hard to fit the title in for Dragon too but, none fit in. Never had any confessions to make to them, just a box smelling of cigarettes and laughter; Of an old jacket, a perfume which I ensure never gets over and a silver watch. Finally, I see the finish line towards which I run to pen something with the title. 

Was I his girlfriend? Who defines the definition? Is it Merriam-Webster, Thesaurus, Oxford or is it left to the individual? I do not know but I know I was a friend. And I loved. Loved with every iota my heart could give. I never told him why I loved him, even when he asked, I never did. Because why I loved did not matter in the end. What do you do when a humorous character that you fell in love with has no more jokes to tickle you? The most beautiful girl who you once held is so disrobed today that she has stopped looking at herself in the mirror. The one you married for her voice has no more melody leaving her throat. Don't you just continue loving them for just them? Do you continue loving the things of the person or, is it the person that you fall in love with?

The first day I spoke to Chang, I knew I would talk to him again. "That day I knew, that two words alone weren't all we had. Our conversations and chat were going to run longer than that. But for today, couple of words shared, weren't that bad." Is what I once wrote about him. Indeed, I spoke to him more and then more and then for hours and hours together. Did I care about him? No. Did he matter to me? No. But talking to him made me happy. He could talk non-stop. So much that I could fade out and return to find him still talking. He had stories about his past with which his eyes would light up. Through his eyes, I would enter the land of his stories. As a mute spectator, I would be deafened to his voice only to stare at his lips move. Was he anyone to me then? Not really. But I enjoyed his company. Then one day, I saw that beneath that confident person was a fussy child not ashamed to claim what he thought was his. Was I his? No. I wasn't. Seeing that childlike innocence, that day I decided I'd give him not only the candy he wanted but also a pony ride. How I would do it, I did not know. It is a different thing that what I thought was a candy and what I thought was the pony ride got mixed up, none the less, he was happy. Seeing him happy, made me happy. If he was sad or upset, surprisingly, it affected me too. I was his friend and he was mine. He played the guitar, he played the drums. He sang and he danced. He impressed every person he met. But was it this that impressed me? It was never about his talents. It confused me why seeing him with other girls made me upset. Did I ever have other feelings for him? No. Never. Then one day I realized that I had created a wall around me, an invisible one, to avoid him from getting too close. The realization came late but at least I knew why the wall. Did I want to break that wall? No. Experience teaches you a thing or two. His genuineness and openness were stronger that my defense. The first brick I broke then, reluctantly, the second. It was difficult. I was hesitant. But then I turned around and saw him waiting. A person so true. Someone who believed in me. Someone who saw the person I was inside. And just like that with the pull of a simple string, the wall came crumbling down like a curtain being rolled up for an exciting play. I knew I am going to love him from this day on. That was my day of love. There was no turning back then. Why I cared for him, I did not know. At times, I wondered if our souls were knit. I hunted for what that really meant because it so felt like they were. David and Johnathan. Why would I ever be so interested in him otherwise? He wasn't the kind of guy that would interest me.

“I once met a guy, 
A guy like none I would like
He stared at me long enough
And tried to converse with his eyes.
I held his gaze and gave him a look to speak,
"Keep your attitude. You are too cute to be by my side"
I once met a guy like this,
Who wasn't fit for my thoughts, no matter how hard he tried.”

Something I have never told him but often wondered. And still think about it. Or at least, did until yesterday. Maybe, I ought to stop doing that.

He taught me many things. With him, I learned something new every day. I set forth to unlearn every wrong I had mastered and he came along. He gave me the best gift anyone in the world could ever give me. Through him I saw what hope and faith meant. He mentored me with things he knew would help me. Through him I saw how important it is to know your identity. I loved not just him, but everything that was his. Not the gifts that he had, but who and what he was with or without them. I loved who he wanted to be. I loved how passionate he was about the things he loved. How he proudly owned everything he loves. If he loved it or liked it, it was his. Thinking about it today, he did not like anything. People like you and me like things. He loves them. A thing like, like does not exist for him. He loved what was his and he made what he loved his. Am I not a proof enough. No wonder he claimed me as his. The passionate nature of his is what I fell in love with. His belief in me is what made me love him. How he demanded me to be his friend swept me off my feet to give my all to him.

What do I tell him why I love him? If there was a unit to measure the happiness I feel when I am with him, I would have given him the number and told him why I love him. Every time I was sad, he was the one I wanted to go to, to turn my day up. I loved him because I could tell him anything and everything. Not telling him wasn't even an option he was ready to take. I loved him because he did not give me an option of keeping things to myself. I loved him because I never once saw him judge me. With him I knew that I had to count my blessings...one by one. I loved him because he gave me a book that reveals the secrets to being happy. He stopped referencing the book and yet I saw him practicing it. Yes, I married the singer who lost her voice. But by the time the question was asked, it wasn't the voice. I was in love with the person. I did not care about the voice any more. The disrobed figure of the most beautiful lady that I held, was still the prettiest to me. For I knew what was beneath that disfigured face of hers. I knew I loved him because every pain of his pierced my heart. His tears flooded my heart. It wasn't about the jokes any more. It wasn't the stories anymore. All that mattered was that he wanted to share them with me. And that, I loved. His eyes changed colors when he spoke to me. He had the entire universe to choose from but he chose me. That is what made me love him.

Chang, I confess for the times I gave you an unsatisfactory answer when you asked why. I could tell you a thousand reasons as to why I love you or what I love about you and I would still not be done. But if I had to tell you my top 5,

1. You believed in me. You saw who I was and loved me for being me. You claimed me. You demanded I be your friend and did not let go until I was your friend. The adamant child that you are. 

2. Your concern for me was always genuine. You have always wanted the best for me.

3. You invited me to share your life. Your fear and your courage, your sadness and your joy; you shared them all with me.

4. You loved Arrow so genuinely. Maybe because he is a good child, but I'd like to believe that you loved him because he is my child. Every time I see him kiss you, I love you a little more. Every time he sings your song, I can't help but love you a little extra. 

5. Your very presence fills me with happiness. And today, as we walk away, just the fact that I knew you and what we had, keeps a smile on me.

Doesn't matter what you have and what you don't. Doesn't matter what you do or don't. I'd love you because I chose to love you. You were pretty persistent that I do that. Maybe I did not do it the way you wanted me to. And I love and thank you for introducing me to The Book. Something I will always value and cherish and carry with me. 

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