An Open Letter to the Guy Who has a Crush on Me

Dear Guy Who is Deluded into Thinking He Likes Me,

I am touched in the deepest recesses of my heart that I have had the opportunity to be your crush. Thank you for this unique baptism, this utterly rare honor that you have chosen to bestow upon me. I shall never forget it.

I am at that point in my life where the turn of events has torn apart my safe haven and burnt it to ashes. To add to this misery, I have just finished watching a really good Korean Drama and after those unreal 16 episodes of pure bliss, I’m left more melancholic than ever.

So, I’ll quote the drama at you: Human beings are lonely from the moment they are born. I’ve not found any statement to be more true. At the core of every struggle and every pang of misery, at least for me, is loneliness. I don’t think I’ve ever fit in at any place that I’ve been at. I’m always longing for something else, for someone else, for someplace else. This need is insatiable, a burning fire that no water, no air, no land can extinguish. I’m always in want of something, something that is just out of reach and quite impossible, that I think would make life bearable. But it doesn’t, if I ever get it.

So with this stage setting in mind, with raging storms and unapologetic cyclones added to the drama for the amusement of whoever is the audience to my comically ironic life, you can imagine what a sunshine your misguided and unrequited feelings for me are. To be crude, it makes me feel less shitty about myself.

Like most people, I often feel starved for love and appreciation. One of my favorite songs at the moment, besides being the work of pure genius, has the lyrics that I have found myself feeling time and again:  “And all I do is cry and complain, because second’s not the same.” It’s a really shitty feeling to be drowning in all the time, when the radar that helps you detect all the avoidable bullshit in your life is broken.(Which is like 78.32% of the times.)

So in these waters, the fact that I am your crush makes me really happy. It’s unbelievable another human being could ever feel that way about me. And because of this, I think you are super awesome. I hope and pray you end up with someone who will give you the love you deserve until the stars fall from the sky.

All I can promise, in exchange for this priceless gift, is my undying adoration for you. I will always root for you in every aspect of your life; I’m forever Team You. I will never forget this.

All My Love

The Receiver of Your Unrequited Temporary Feelings

 

© That Girl in the Fray, 2017. All rights reserved.

Featured Image: ‘The Letter’. Art print by Wladyslaw Czachorski. 

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An Open Letter to the Guy from my Gym

Dear Gym Hottie

It’s been ages since I’ve seen you and to be honest I’ve, in fact, forgotten your face. So let’s hope that you haven’t gone missing and the police doesn’t ask me to give them your description  (because I’m too hopeless to even attempt to do that).

I’ve seen you about twice in my whole life, but believe me, that was enough to make me always look for you in the crowd, rather hopelessly I might add.

For me, running on the treadmill next to you on that fateful day will always be a fond memory of our non existent relationship. I cannot seem to forget how I kept staring at my own reflection in the mirror to avoid looking at you, which made me fall in love even more.

With myself, that is. Because of the perfection that is me.

And then I realized, or rather imagined, that you were stealing glances at me too, which heightened my  adoration to the infinite sky.

For my own self, that is.

And then I almost broke my teeth as I skid down the treadmill because I was too preoccupied with the love fest and lost my footing as a result of it.

I still remember what attracted me to you was how tall you were. Tall enough to stand on your toes and pluck the moon from the sky if you wanted. Everything about you reminded me of the starry sky on a clear summer night: you were dark and mysterious, and immensely out of reach. And staring at you made me happy and my heart skip a beat.

So I did what any girl with a crush on a guy would do: I completely avoided you, scowled at you when you tried to smile at me, tripped on the floor a few times and even dropped my phone on someone’s foot when you were near.

You need to come back to the gym, dear Gym Dude. I miss the romance.

With love

The Girl Who You Think Hates You But Doesn’t Really Hate You In Fact It’s The Opposite

Bye.

© That Girl in the Fray, 2017. All rights reserved.

 

Years From Then

Years from then is now my now

and I still pathetically find myself looking for your approval.

I still am utterly conscious of you in this crowded room, sitting right in front of me.

I pull my chair away so as not be as close enough to you to smell your cologne

I avoid looking into your eyes as much as I can

It is all but an utter failure.

I know it’s a trick of my brain, that I do not feel anything towards you anymore. In fact, I hate the way you talk about things, that immature daftness about you that I failed to spot before. You’re utterly opinionated and narcissistic, else who would even have their own picture on their phone screen? Me, I could never do that because I cannot stand to see my face so often and rather see something beautiful and inspiring.

You hate everything about me

You mock anything I say or do

Any big achievement of mine is a joke to you

And every time you ask me something unprecedented, something beyond the imagined conversions in my mind that I’ve had with you, I’m speechless

and then I say the dumbest thing imaginable possible.

I cannot but be awkward before you

It infuriates me to look at the mess I am before you

I’m still as vulnerable as I was then

All my promises to be poised and graceful are broken.

I wished I’d never known you.

In the most beautiful place imaginable, living the dream I had dreamed for myself, all I can think about is what you think of me. Have I impressed you enough? What else can I do to prove that I am beyond you, that you and me are never possible, more to myself than to you.

But you.

You…

 

© That Girl in the Fray, 2016. All rights reserved.

Illusion

The lull questions my answers.

The dark wrings out my fallacy.

And I hear the lone bird screeching in the middle of the night,

Seething wounds on the wing,

The cold a choking blanket, a fatal lullaby.

 

The setting of the sun brings the demons out alive.

 

And ever time, I give in.

And every single time I fall.

 

© That Girl in the Fray, 2016. All rights reserved.

The Beauty of the Mess: Letter #1

(This is an epistolary fictional story-series)

Dear E.

It is very unlikely that this letter will ever find you. Besides the rare possibility of me getting over my vanity and finding the courage to send this to you, there is the glaring hiatus in our correspondence, of 2 years 4 months and 26 days to be precise, that dampens my hope. Then there is also the question of you using your old post box that forbids me from thinking otherwise. Or if you even live in the same city. Or country for that matter. There are a million reasons why this letter shouldn’t find you.

But life is a long shot. Life has never made sense to me, so I’ve given up trusting in reason or signs of any kind. I’m not the believer that I was once upon a time when you used to write to me. And even if the ink and paper from my hands lies in a rusted metal box for most of eternity, the paper yellowing, the ink fading off into the air like my words and emotions, I will find a sense of calm in it. It will satisfy me that I tried to renew our friendship before I grew old and died. I tried to fix things when the world around me fell apart.

I’ll come straight to where we left off. And in all honesty, I was as angry as I’ve ever been in my life. I waited for seven hours on that rusted black bench in the far left corner of the Rose Park in your precious city, where I was supposed to meet you. You had so eloquently described it in your letters to me as your favourite place in the world, or to quote you, “the world you knew”. I wonder if that has changed in the past two years, if you’ve traveled to the far away mystical lands you always adored and admired.

You’d said that the dilapidated park bench gave you hope in hopelessness whenever you sat there eavesdropping into people’s lives, forgetting about the dilemmas of your own. You used to call it “the beauty of the mess” that life was putting you through. I tried doing the same while waiting for you to show up, while imagining you in your contemplating colours: wondering, worrying, waning. It upset me even more, because it made it extremely hard for me to hate you. And I hated you for what you did to me. Loathed you. Detested you. I was disgusted by you.

The beauty of your city was dust to me. It was smoke and ashes and garbage. And I swore, as I sat there rotting away on a rotting park bench in a rotten city, to never write to you again. I swore to cut you off and forget you like you forgot me. I felt stupid for not asking for your address or phone number, or even your real name for that matter, before flying halfway across the country to meet you, a stranger I had never seen or spoken to in my life, except through letters written to a post box.

But here I am breaking my oath to myself, falling into the path of vulnerability again, for you to hurt me all over again.

In all that hurt and pain, I took another decision that I shouldn’t have, that I probably wouldn’t have had you showed up that fateful day. I can’t help but laugh at my sheer daftness; at the fact how my life would be completely different than it is now had I let the fire of hate and hurt burn down to ashes rather than adding more wood to it. I wouldn’t have been a broken man sitting in a lone cabin in the middle of an abandoned sea shore putting ink to paper in this flickering tangerine light. I don’t even have a phone or television here. It’s just me, my pain and a few empty canvases I plan to paint my pain on for my impending project.

Let us let go of what happened. You didn’t show up two years ago; I’ve accepted that now and all that has happened since then. But throughout all of it, through the anger and the impulsive decisions, the fleeting illusionary happiness and the everlasting agony, I’ve missed talking to you. I’ve missed looking at the world through your eyes. I’ve missed your metaphors and poetry. I’ve missed you.

I’m not asking for an explanation. I’m not even expecting a response. But if my words find you by a twist of fate, know that no matter what I’m thankful to have known you in this lifetime. I’m thankful to have stumbled across your pen name on that god awful pen-friends website. I’m glad I decided to write to you. I am glad you decided to write back to me.

Your friendly neighbourhood

Achilles

Ps: I hope you’ve read the Iliad by now.

 

© That Girl in the Fray, 2016. All rights reserved.

Bon Voyage, Rory

My tears have almost dried and the sinking feeling in my chest is subsiding to numbness, slowly and steadily, although my heart feels as hollow as ever. The jar of peanut butter (because I was out of nutella) didn’t help me as much as I thought it would. Gilmore Girls ended. Rory left for her first job. Logan was left brokenhearted. Luke kissed Lorelei. Now what?

That’s the question that has been haunting my life over the past few weeks. It is ironic that I finished Gilmore Girls at this close in my life, this ending of a chapter, this dawning of an era. Gilmore Girls has taught me so much about love and life, about family and hope and every other thing that matters. I fell in love over and again with Dean, Jess, Logan, Luke, Christopher (until he left Lorelei), Sookie, Lane, Jackson, Zack. I fell in love with the complexity of Emily Gilmore, the complicated relationship she has with Lorelei and all that it brought with it. Richard Gilmore taught me about pursuing what you want and not letting go of opportunities. I partied with Logan and the Life and Death Brigade, fell in and out of love with him, swooned at his grand romantic gestures and most of all, appreciated him for becoming the man he grew up to be. Rory taught me that even the best of the best can have a melt down and not everything they touch has to turn to gold all the time. But getting back on track after life pushes you down is what defines the strength of your character and it is what I wish to possess.

I was at Yale with Rory, my favourite place on the planet, walking those streets of New Haven with her as I did last summer, the best summer of my life. And Lorelei taught me that sometimes the unexpected can grow to be the best thing to ever happen to you. Gilmore Girls gave me hope and courage and now that it has ended, I don’t know what to depend on anymore. Where do I run to when I want to escape?

I’m forgetting all of it. I’ve forgotten everything. Life is taking its toll on me. Lately, all I feel is the piercing hollowness of everything. The superficiality of relationships has been gripping my soul. Nothing has meaning anymore. What is anything even worth if it is just a mode of convenience for everyone, bent according to their whims and fancies and desires? My biggest problem is that when I reciprocate the same behaviour, the same fakeness they subject me to, guilt eats me alive, for that is not who I am. That is not who I want to be, although the alternative brings me pain.

Life is a conundrum I do not understand. Nothing means anything, and looking for meaning in people’s actions and the universe’s will is pure foolishness. Expecting reciprocation for your sincerity is stupid. The world is grey and I no longer have Gilmore Girls to turn to. Everything seems bleak and blank.

 

© That Girl in the Fray, 2016. All rights reserved.

A Tribute to all the Friendships that didn’t work out

Reaching the closing chapters of a novel makes you reminisce and analyze all that you’ve gone through, which in my case is quite involuntary. For now that the bedlam has subsided, I can honestly look at all that has happened and truly try to find meaning in the circus that was these last five years. So, this post is going to be me attempting to unveil the design of the cosmos.

Just like anyone else, I’ve lost and found and lost so many people in my life, the major part of which occurred these past five years. And as I sit and make a mental list of all these doomed friendships in my head in alphabetical order, I can’t bring myself to regret any of these relationships. Would I have been happier had I found the people I’m friends with at the moment earlier on in my life? Duh. But the thing is that I wouldn’t have been the same person that I am now without all those cogs in the wheel, and thus, wouldn’t have the same relationship with my friends that I have now. It was necessary to have been through it all.

Another thing that I’ve realized is that there isn’t a single former compadre that I’ve not had moments with, those beautiful moments that defined the friendship and some of which, still bring a smile to my face. It was amazing to have been close to such a different array of people, as they came into my life and walked away, for now I have a sharper insight into people. I would like to believe that I’ve learnt something good from all of them, imbibed traits of their character that attracted me in the first place. Moreover, I’ve learnt a lot about my own self having been through it all: what ticks me off, what makes me happy, what I look for in another person, how I judge people, how I let other people’s judgments affect me, what I like in a person, what I don’t like in a person, what not to say to a person, what never to say to a person, and the list is endless.

It’s like what they portrayed in the last episode of Cheese in the Trap: you have to keep dealing with the same types of people throughout the phases of your life. People are going to use you,  break you, step all over you, hit you in your gut at your weakest point and blame you for all of the shit, for the world is not an easy place to live in. You have to adapt. And that is what I’ve drawn from the last five years.

Almost all of these friends turned strangers are persona non grata in my life, but I’m thankful to all of them for everything. There are always as many sides to a story as the number of eyes affixed on it, and mine is just one of the numerous. All the people who fall under this category will have their own tales of woe against me, which in most cases will be valid, but at the end the prognosis would be the same: it didn’t work. These stories will always be lessons in the dark that will remind me of who I was and who I want to be.

It’s Spring (A Rant)

My google homepage no more has my blog as a shortcut and that pained me. I guess that serves me right for being too distracted by the hills and the mountains outside my window rather than my own life. So, this is me being distracted by my own life for a change.

This is going to be one of those posts that is utterly personal,(hence) deeply metaphorical and, to put it into perspective, kind of rant-y. It goes without saying that this is probably going to be a mess, and this might very well lie in my blog folder for months and months, before I decide to publish it. However, I want this post to be raw and actually communicate how and what I’m feeling at the moment. Most of all, I want to press this leaf in my diary, so as to never forget who I was and how I became my future self.

I’m at a close at my life, the end of an era, an act in a Shakespearean play of sorts to be honest. And… I do not know how I feel about it. One moment I’m drenched in pre-nostalgia, groping at every moment to stop it from flowing, or at least slow it down.  The next I’m glad that it’s finally over. I’ve swum the English Channel and I can finally catch my breath, wash off the algae and treat my wounds. So, there lies the conundrum. The only thing I pray for in that respect is that I regret nothing. I wish I miss nothing. I’ve lived in the past for too long, and it is not a good place to be in. It nearly destroyed me.

This place nearly destroyed me too. But I guess it was necessary to become the person I am today, and I for a fact am very happy with that person. I have highs and lows, but I do not feel that I’m constantly frayed in a war zone. Yes, I have my battles, but I think my armor is stronger and my reflexes are sharper than before. And that has made me comfortable, to an extent, about going to war now and then. I know how to deal with it, how to deal with my darkness. My knight in the shining armor turned out to be me myself, and that is exactly what I needed.

Moments like today, I miss Yale like crazy. It was not a cake walk to be honest, and there were times when I sat on the wooden floor staring at the fireplace in my dorm wondering whether I had done the right thing, but that all faded away with time and my summer turned out to be crazy-beautiful, rather than being the perfect-beautiful I had expected it to be. And it was what I needed. I’m doing all I can to get back there, because that is what I want.

The dirge of the dying year has lead to the advent of a new dawn. Winter has ended.

It’s Spring.

 

To every girl who’s liked a guy who hasn’t liked her back

Having spent hours trying to convince a friend going through the same ailment, I speak to you oh mighty creatures of the fairer sex. Your predicament is not an easy one; so first of all, accept my virtual hug. Your troubles may seem like the mountains and the hills, but there are few things in life that a hug at the right time can’t fix.

Now, imbibe everything I say: You are beautiful. You have a wonderful soul. You belong to the gender of Athena, the goddess of war and intellect and you cannot let the fact that you are pining over a guy let you forget that. You are an individual, with your unique sets of rainbows and thorns. Do not regret any of it. You should be your own person, and if some random guy doesn’t like you back, it says more about his own self rather than you. Not every person on this planet can read the Iliad, let alone understand or like it. Does that make the Iliad a waste of ink and paper? Does that diminish its literary marvel in any way?

You must love your own self before you expect someone else to. The contours and caresses of your soul demand that kind of appreciation, for they are you! Do not be the damsel in distress, for I say this out of experience that outside the realm of fiction, only you can save yourself. Find the strength; you possess the universe.

You may think he’s the only one you could ever love. You may believe that if he doesn’t like you, you may not be worth liking. You may not be able to stop thinking about him, day and night and day. But all of this is but a breeze blowing against you as you walk in the sand, and what you can’t see is that there is an ocean that awaits you.