I want my f*****g fairy tale

Once upon a time, not too long ago, I was mortified of the idea of being alone. Of coming back to a house that was empty, of spending the evening by myself, of trying to figure what to do if I had time on my hands… A friend once said to another, “Keep an eye on her, I always get the feeling that if left alone, she will wither away and die.” Well, withered, died, blew away in the wind, planted feet elsewhere…and now slowly, rising. Like a lovely, green, new leaf.

I have never seen THAT exact green replicated anywhere. They can give you an emerald on canvas, but not that newborn green that looks so delicate, so fragile and so, so, inspiring. There’s the people-killing, strong, Delhi sun beating down on my fourth floor terrace (erm, I am ON the terrace) and a howling, dusty, hot wind (we call it loo) threatening to uproot even concrete; and there’s this little, new leaf, with it’s single pointed ear, curiously, defiantly upright. Looking up, I don’t think hopefully, because there is nothing hopeful around it…but determined nonetheless. Hmm. Determined for Life herself. That’s the leaf’s motivation… I love growing plants. And the biggest torture for me right now is the fact that I don’t have any plants right now… the water situation is so uncertain I cannot bear to bring home plants and then watch them die. Except for this aloe vera plant that refuses to leave my side or die. The baby from the aloe plant one of my exe’s mom had.

From having a terrace full of ALL hand-planted, self-nurtured plants and being mortified of living alone, to a single cactus and an eerie sense of serenity in being alone. There is no uncertainty in loneliness! I am so SURE I am by me. No what ifs, no does he, no waiting, no panic, no comparison, no forever matching up, no pushing away, no berating… n.o.t.h.i.n.g, touches me. Some time back, I did something ABSOLUTELY out of character. Or the character I can (could?) be sometimes.

I have been called “obsessive excessive” by an ex, because I wanted to cuddle. In hindsight, I don’t blame him anymore, you CAN have sex with someone you don’t care for, but you cannot cuddle. And. It still hurts to think that you behaved like an absolute dog, wanting to be petted and were kicked off…because the other didn’t care. The upside of loneliness, you fucking ALWAYS care about what happens to you. Yea! (sic) And since you CAN have sex with someone you don’t care for, you cuddle only when you want to have sex. I am going to stop thinking this. Anyway.

So, I have been called ‘obsessive excessive’ and used to sleep snuggled into Dude. Well, naturally too, I sort of sleep either snuggled into something or balled-up. Shrug. I am compact I guess. In the Glorious Dude Giving Me Attention Days, also known as, days-when-he-wanted-to-be-the-best-man-you-could-get-on-earth, Dude loved the snuggling. Even said so, “Love the way you completely hide behind me and sleep, you feel small, snug and warm,” he had said. To the days it became too hot, or why can’t you sleep on that side of the bed, or do you HAVE to stick to me and sleep, to immediately giving me his back when I’d come to bed… and when I would ask, he’d say, “Talk to my arse, haha, kidding baby,” and give me the arse anyway. Haha. Funny line though, I should try it. Except that I wonder if I would EVER be with anyone I would need to use that line on. For any reason. If I don’t care, I am not there. Why did I take it and why am I writing it here and making a complete jackass of myself? To prevent myself from puking all over me when I visualize Me, Then. So that I remember, each, every, single, humiliating, “loveless” moment, and NEVER let that happen to me again. If I have to shoot Love in the head for it, I will do it, but I am not doing that again. THAT cannot be love. Can it? It can’t… because then there is nothing to hope for. Sh!t. I am not going there.

Speaking of doing something totally out of character – which was the original point three paras back – I did not cuddle the last time. I could not snuggle, I could not sleep with my arm around him, taking in his all-man scent. I went to the other room and slept, VERY peacefully without a single thought of snuggling, cuddling etc. It was only later that I realized and thought about it and freaked out.

I feel I have lost the ability to FEEL for a man. Somewhere, I go cold. In fact, that’s towards people I guess. I am SO touchy about being misquoted, or slandered, or used, or betrayed, or treated as ‘time-pass’, that I have now begun doing weird things. Like hiding from company. The moment I find myself coming close to anyone, and that’s Anyone, I run so fast, it’s almost as if you put a shot of nitro up my, erm, down my throat (wink, moderation, Eve*?) I push people away, stop responding, vanish off the scene, behave weird and generally bite all. Like three nights I will party alone, say my hellos, retreat into my corner (or right before the DJ console), dance alone and run back home (unless waiting to be dropped). But on the fourth night, I’d end up actually talking and laughing and getting to know people…and when I would come back home, I would be like, ‘shit, why did you open your mouth again? Now wait to see trouble unfold.’ Because it does.

Hmm. I better get to bed now, lest I match the word count of the entire blog in one night. Marathon post!

PS: I think Could Be Trouble (CBT) knows I have a crush on him. Yeah, he still seems to be around, but I don’t know why, I have a feeling, not for long. But duuuude, I have like, a MEGA crush on him. Siiiiiiiiiigh. And all I can do – and am gonna do – is blog about it. Siiiiiiiigh. It’s absolute idiocy to behave like a teenager, but what to do, it feels bloody good… the knowledge that I CAN, STILL have a crush.