Its not a love story and i’m telling you this because 90% stories have the element LOVE in them. Its the OTHER story. You know how people say “i’m depressed”. I think what they mean to say is that “i’m tired”. If you look at me from far, i’ve a pretty normal life. “the sane one” they call me. I’m not like my friend Megha, bubbly and wild. I’m not like my friend Jai , the brainy one. I’m me. They all say i keep them grounded so they don’t go far.
Some say its a mystery to know me. I don’t let things out. They take it as a challenge to know me, untangle the tangled. What they don’t know is i’m a fu**ed up person who is searching for her own peace of mind. Oh! am i allowed to use the F* word here?
Here comes the cliche. I read somewhere ” People are tend to be more sympathetic if they actually see you hurting”. No wonder they all think i’m having a blast in my life. Now if i tell them I’m not okay, i know what will they say- ” what is the problem?” , ” Was it the test?” , ” Tell me what’s bothering you?”.
Only if it was one thing. Its the anxiety that i feel with a stranger, its the problem i have with explaining myself, its the almonds mum gives me every morning( hate almonds), its the shaking of my hands when i’m thinking too much, its that guy in the park who bullies kids every day, its the mushroom that grows every summer near my garden tap( mushrooms are devils children), its the part where i let my emotions get the better of me, its the part where i care…too much. Nope, i’m not some girl who hates the world because she loves everyone and people just don’t care. People like me.
Another cliche. Let me tell you a story. One day, mom took me shopping. I told her to let me change. She said i wouldn’t have to get out of the car so there’s no point of it. So there i was in a parking lot in my shorts and hairy legs and a top that was suitable for my 8 year old sister. Mom goes in. I’m listening to the Ed sheeran( love Ed sheeran!) in the car. I see a couple enter the parking lot, fighting. I turn down the volume because i didn’t want them to know i was there. I was looking at the girl when the guy hits her…hard on her head. The girl was quiet, her eyes making sure that they were alone. He curses her. bad words, really bad. He gets in the car and leave. Leaving her standing there. She keeps standing with one hand on her head another holding the big bazaar bag. Then she comes up to my car and says “sorry” . She wasn’t even looking at me. Maybe she was embarrassed. I tell her that i didn’t see anything. She says ” you should have “, then she leaves .
I don’t know why i told you that story. I wonder where she is right now. People say its beautiful how looking at the stars makes their problems feel insignificant and small. But the night ends. the stars go away. Your problems are not insignificant and small anymore.
So here i am ,sitting in my room waiting for my problems to feel small. I like how people romanticise pain. I don’t blame them. Name one movie where the main protagonists were like ” MY LIFE IS GREAT!!!” , “PEOPLE UNDERSTAND ME!!!!” or ” I’VE ABSOLUTELY NO PROBLEMS!!!” . Okay please it’s not a competition. Don’t actually start listing them.
Okay so the nights here, the stars are up. Bye.