Memories

A called last night and we ended up talking for about 4 hours. Late into the night, it went. We ended up counting the many amazing memories we’ve made so far.

We couldn’t count them all.

We’ve done a lot of sneaking around. Us against the rest of the stupid world.

Sleepovers.

Baking with A.

A’s birthday, the things that didn’t quite turn out the way I’d planned for them to, the Awesome lunch, and the gooey chocolate birthday cake made by me.

Lunches together in the cafeteria. If there’s ever anything that I’m too full to eat, A will happily oblige.

The revelation that he would give me his jacket when I felt cold even though he felt cold too without it. All the times that he’s kept me warm in winters.

Hugs, that are so awkward because my face smushes against his chest. But hugs that I cannot live without.

A is such a drama queen. But then, so am I.

Studying together, until we end up not studying at all. He’s annoying; he always studies on the last day. Which means I have to explain stuff that I’ve already done which leaves me very little time for the things that I haven’t done!

Finding out that we both liked museums and making a list of museums to visit (out of which, we’ve only done one so far :/)

And being best friends like no one else. I didn’t think dating someone could be so perfect. It’s not always perfect, but for what it’s worth, nothing ever is.

There’s something I always tell A: The only reason he’s so perfect is probably because he’s such a good mix of manly and girly (he lets me paint his toenails – well I’ve only ever done it once, but he liked it enough to keep it on until the summer and the season for flip flops). And because we started out being best friends.

Watermelons!

Look, look I’m eating a plateful of red juicy watermelons.

I’m extra excited because they look all cubical and geometric and box-like and so symmetric :’)

Except that one in the corner out of which I took a fork-bite (ie., similar to a bite, but using a fork).

My Food Philosophy

I don’t have much of a food philosophy.

But I believe in one’s right to choose between vegetarian and non-vegetarian and I absolutely hate people who try to make me feel bad about that, or say stuff to me regarding what choice I make. The most logical reason for preferring non-vegetarian food, that I often use in such arguments is, even when you’re eating vegetarian food, you’re killing something. You’re killing the plants. I just don’t make a distinction between animals or plants. I mean, if that’s your logic. Whatever suits you, suits you. This suits me, I like to eat it, it’s not exactly very unhealthy (red meat is, so I eat that rarely) and it’s part of my diet
I’m not a very adventurous non-vegetarian. I don’t like fish, I eat pork and red meat rarely, and I’m not particularly fond of seafood except for crab and shrimp.

I’m pre-disposed to eat healthy. I don’t like greasy, fatty food. I can’t have much spicy food either.
Working within these parameters and eating home-cooked food regularly means that I’m pretty much free to eat anything.

My body’s also extremely kind to me in the sense that it doesn’t tolerate anything for too long. I can’t eat a lot of Anything in one go. I might have an intense craving for something in particular, but it dies down after eating a bit of it. There was one point of time when I was drinking fizzy sugary drinks with each meal. After a while, it started feeling strange. My teeth would feel like they were rotting, I’d feel full of the fizz and just like that, I stopped it, cold turkey, before it got the better of me. It’s not like I don’t drink fizzy sugary drinks any more. I just don’t drink them Everyday.

I used to be dependent on packaged foods some years back, living on soups made of soup powder and 2-minute noodles. Recently, I’ve stopped that too. I stopped that, because I no longer felt like eating it. I wanted fresh soup, freshly cooked noodles. Nothing out of a packet, nothing that takes less than 10 minutes to make. I think my body naturally knows when I’ve eaten too much of nothing good at all. Omniscient and all.

Sometimes I feel I take my body for granted. I’ve always been proud of my immune system, and my system of eating. There’s almost nothing that I prevent myself from eating if I really really feel like eating it. That might seem like a very idea to many people, but you know, well, this food philosophy of mine serves me well

Just one thing I feel strongly about: Don’t give me shit about my food habits. I don’t need it. I can’t stand any of that crap about non-vegetarians being murderers or that I eat too little (because I don’t; I only eat as much as I can so maybe I’ve a tiny appetite but you telling me this won’t really change it, now will it?).

Love
Present Me

Remember

To remember: Never put an expiry date on your relationship with A. It pisses him off. It’s his only biggest grouse with you. So stop being pessimistic.

Love
Present Me

A Visit to the Dentist

Dear Future Me

The dentist said I will need teeth scaling. My gums have been a-bleeding.

With vibrating instruments.

Run-for-your-lives.

He gave me a disgusting peroxide mouth wash that I have to use until he performs that Thing on me.

Also, what’s with my wisdom teeth? I’m 20 years old and they aren’t out yet.

I got a call yesterday from A: “I miss you so much, it hurts. Literally.”
I told him it was probably gas, but he said it’s not. Can missing people really hurt?

Love
Present Me

Questions to my Future Self

Dear Future Me

It was an odd thing that he said.

It didn’t just add up.
It was like someone asking me to believe them when they told me earnestly that 1 + 1 was actually 4.
I wanted to believe him.
I had to believe him.
But there just seemed to be some kind of a logical fallacy that I couldn’t ignore.

How, can someone say something like that and actually mean it? I cannot believe them easily when they say it.
It’s no joke. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

How can you say that to someone?

And then, this still hadn’t sunk in, when he said something of a worse nature. Marrying at a later age, if you want to get married and there’s no one to marry. He thinks it would work out with me. Even if we aren’t dating at that time.

The funny thing is, R used to say a lot of things when I was dating him, and I never took him seriously.
I just couldn’t.

Not because I doubted what he said, but because you can’t promise things so far away in the future.
I didn’t even know if I’d stay with R till the next month and there he was, spouting such promises. “Oh I will love you even if we’ve been broken up for quite some time.”
Stupid sentimental crap.
I told him each time: “You really have no idea what you are talking about. Ass.” and each time he tried to convince me that he meant every word of it.

And then obviously, after the big bad break up, everybody went their own way.
It hadn’t even been 5 months since the break up when I knew that I could no longer stand R and this feeling was mutual indeed.
Idiot.

A, though, is different. I can’t help but take him seriously. Much more seriously than I ever took R’s stupid promises.

Everything he says, everything he does.

R was different.
We had a lot of problems agreeing on things.
I don’t doubt that he *believed* he loved me, but he was an immature idiot who didn’t know what it means and what it entails.
For that matter, I don’t know what it entails either.

I don’t think I understand love beyond the fact that it is a chemical reaction in your brain, it’s a chemical construct designed to make humans stay monogamous.
Or in the case of familial love, to ensure that people stick to each other and care about each other, because there is safety in sticking together!
You know, humans-are-social-creatures thing.
I don’t like to think of R now.
I wish we could have been friends, but when I think of all the horrid stuff I put up with because I *always* gave him the benefit of doubt, I don’t much like myself.
I like to think that I’ve learnt and I’ve grown since then. I was in school then.

Back to A.

A is different, but I don’t set much store by this current feeling of mine.
It might be a phase and I’ve had a similar phase with R too.

Plus, A has demonstrated in the past that he isn’t always his lovely self.
We’ve always been able to sort things out, but perhaps that is because of my experience with giving R the benefit of the doubt, and not because of A per se.
Hmm.

See how much those 2 simple statements of his have made me think?
It’s easier to believe him, and to trust his words, because A has also demonstrated to me, in the past, his enormous capacity to love me and to put up with every facet of mine.
Depression, low-self-esteem, rage, cheeriness, being high, stupidity, feeling terribly terribly low, extreme excitement, everything.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
Hah.

So here’s my question, Future-Me.
How’s it with you and A now?
You’d decided with A that you would be friends even if you were to break up. Are you still friends? Are you together?
Are you planning to get married to him? If not, do you still think his statement holds any value? Or is that a laughable idea?
Do you still strongly believe that he loves you? Do you love him? And do you know this for sure?

Tell me all about it.
I hope you’re still together, personally. I think he’s the best you will ever find. :’)

Love
Present Me
(So I have changed the sign-off finally!)

Happy Days

Last summer, I think this was. Me, my best friend and A, trying on furry scarves, making pouty faces and posing in front of a mirror.

Soon, A will be gone. Just 7 days more till he goes to Pittsburgh. For two-and-a-half-fucking-months. What will I do without him?

And the best friend? She’s not in med school, far, far away from me.

Bleh. Life sucks at the moment.

Guess what, I won an award!

Dear Future Me

Look, look, I won an award. It’s this blog’s first. I am extremely proud.

According to the rules, I must link it back to the person who awarded it to me, and then, nominate 6 more bloggers.

Well, I have tried to link it back to the awardee, The Drunk Archer (there, if the above image hyperlink doesn’t work, this one surely will).
And I’m going to say something about her, because this is my blog and I can!
I don’t quite remember how I found her blog, but what made me hit the Follow button was:
1. She wrote with a lot of wit.
2. She is the only blogger among the the ones I currently follow who is around my age. Or at least, nearEST (since the concept of near is relative. The moon is *near* to earth on the cosmic scale, but still too far for most of us to visit). And she writes about stuff I can really relate to!
3. She posts frequently enough.
4. I like reading what she writes.

I don’t follow too many blogs at the moment, so I might not be able to come up with 6 nominees.
And the nominees ARE…!

1. The Drunk Archer – For all of the above reasons and more! Though this might be cheating under the rules of the award, but bah who cares!
2. Nicole – I may not always agree with what she writes, but it is interesting to read the opposite point-of-view sometimes. Plus, she’s an objectivist (which I like), and her dog’s really cute.
3. Skipping Stones – Lighthearted posts, interesting quotes and photos! Hah.
4. Mehernaz – She’s forgotten to write to me, perhaps this will remind her I exist. I wish she blogged more often. I told A about her emailing me and I read out my favourite parts to him. He didn’t believe I was Not reading out My reply because he said it sounded a lot like how I used to write earlier. :’)

Lots of love
Past Me
P.S. I gave this some thought, and I figured that it should be ‘Present Me’. Because I’m writing in the present and addressing it to someone in the future. Either I address it to the present, then it would be by someone in the past; but not this past/future limbo (in fact, the part between past and future IS the present).

I want to sleep, and sleep and not worry about the end semester exams next week.

I don’t want to talk to that girl who annoys me for no fault of hers.

I want to hold on to A and spend hours with him.

I want to run away from home and live somewhere on my own.

I want to burst out at dad and tell him everything that he’s doing wrong, if only he were open to listening to anything I say. Instead, I just swallow my anger and hear him out and then go away without saying anything back to him. Because he just wouldn’t listen.

I wish my family weren’t so insensitive. And I wish they fussed less about me.

I wish I didn’t feel so depressed with life.

I wish I knew what to do.

I feel like running away from A and being all alone and drowning in my misery and self-pity and not talking to him.
(You see what just happened there? I wanted to hold on to A and spend hours with him, but now I want to run away from him. This has also been happening a lot of late.)

I don’t have any plans for the summer, I wish I did. I don’t want to be jobless because that will make me more depressed and my family just doesn’t understand this and dad’s so insensitive, even if he understood that I’m depressed, he would handle it in such a way that it would just make it worse. But my problems with him don’t end at this, they extend to having a problem with his opinions, his attitude and his prejudices. Sometimes I wish mom would stand up to him more. But perhaps for the same reason that I don’t, she usually keeps her quiet when it’s trivial things that set dad off.

A shouldn’t have to put up with these mood swings of mine. Yesterday during a bout of depression late at night, I told him he should break up with me because I’m no good for him. I’ve been weepy and clingy and moody and angry and depressed and I don’t think anyone deserves to have to deal with all that. I mean it’s not even A’s problem; it’s mine.

I want to get drunk.
I laugh a lot when I’m high.

Of Learning

Sometime back, I had written about how I used to cut myself.

I thought I was over it. It had been long since I’d used that way out again.

But the last week taught me that I hadn’t really, no. I had found other ways to vent my anger, I had found other distractions. But when I have none of those, it’s back to that same piece of glass.
Nothing had changed.

Or had it?
This time, I was mad, so mad, that I wanted to throw things about, I wanted to destroy the phone that I was clutching in my hand, I wanted to smash things, break things.
I wanted to, but I did nothing of that sort.
I chose to hurt myself.

At first I was worried that this old piece of glass could infect me, so I didn’t cut deep. Just a scratch on my legs.
Then I looked at my legs. The old scars had faded, but they were still there. I could make out the criss-cross lines of the past. All of a sudden, I didn’t want to add more.
I still needed it, though. So I swiped the glass across my thigh twice until blood came out, just a little bit, then I put it away.
Just a scratch.
Because I like my legs and I didn’t want to scar them.

Something had changed after all.