Comes and goes, and comes and goes and no-one cares.

John Mayer croons, my hungover head flattens itself out. I want to say I have a lot on my mind, but my choice of escaping behind the garb of a quarter life crisis is working pretty well, so far.

I may come back to this blog many years later to re-read different phases of my life, all of which have been described beautifully, and I'm not even being full of it.

This phase, though. Ugh. I can't find myself to be elusive. Or cryptically analytical in this charming way that I seemed to have mastered many years ago.

Is it all falling apart to form new things, I wonder?

When "where am I headed?" isn't the impending question. It's more on the lines of, "What the fuck?"

Only this time, I think I've finally learned how to not give a shit. It may suck my writing prowess, but meh.

I must quit you

He walked me to the door, in his bright yellow tshirt. In front of his friends. He kissed me goodbye. I left him after 48 hours of unadulterated indulgence. One that made him "calm" and made me anxious.

Did I know that was fabricated?

"You make me excruciatingly happy"

"I'm not there yet"

"I hate it when you flirt with other guys"

"We'd destroy each other, we're identical"

"Hold me closer. You know you can."

"I don't feel the emotions. This is a bad idea."

"Choose me. Be mine."

*****

I had butterflies 15 minutes before we were going to reach his house.

*****

He ruffled me hair, and hugged me. When no one was looking, he slapped my ass playfully. He look painfully good these days. He's a fairly good looking boy, but off late he's oozing sex.


*****

 I struggle with my words. I'm drunk. I want to tell him how I feel.
 "Shut the fuck up. Don't say another word."

He kissed me. There's always been electricity, but this time it was a fucking overdose. Maybe because I knew his mind.

******

"You can hold me tighter."

I reach for my hand around his waist and tighten up. In 15 mins, he loosens the grip and turns the other way. I can't sleep because I can't decide whether to reach out and hold him again and let it be.
It's morning.

******

Karma. I broke their hearts. First in 2004. And then in 2009. and then twice in 2010. Once in 2012, and finally now in 2013. Maybe this is payback?

I don't know really. This isn't a heartbreak. This is just stupid. But must it be like this? Can't one fall hook, line and sinker in love with somebody and have them reciprocate?

I'm scared. I don't want to settle for nice, just because exciting and mind-blasting is fickle and hurts me. And I can't have exciting and mind-blasting.

Perhaps I should stop.

You're a fickle, fickle man. That's how you've turned my life around since December, stupid.

Because everything that you are, I was. The bi-polar tendencies, the fickle emotions, the hot-cold-yes-nos, the arrogance/narcissism that only really showed bits of one's insecurites - all of it.

I was the centre of whoever's world. They would have to tip-toe around me, because I wouldn't know when my mind would change. Deep down, somewhere, I've always been this pleasant, nice person. But I had to walk over many people to reach here.

With you, I'm just naturally adult. I'm easy, understanding and just too nice. It scares the fucking daylights out of me - I wonder if you'll find it all too easy to take for granted. I wonder if I'll bore you soon enough, because I don't make you run on your toes.

But this is me. I don't care if people are late, and I never give them grief for making me wait. If someone breaks my camera, I don't freak out. I don't get cranky. I immediately switch to pacifying the hyperventilating person who broke my camera. I understand, I always do.

Sure, I can be a brat. I want everything to go my way - but here's the scary part. You make me swallow that. Maybe there's room for only one brat between the two of us. Right now, I don't mind letting you be one.

You've turned my life around by this role-reversal. I don't know if I this is permanent, I don't know how long this is going to last. I remember you saying that day in the car (about an incident that must not be written about) that if not for anything, you'll remain special for giving me a story I can tell me kids.

I know I make you happy and we have so much chemistry. But I really, REALLY don't know where this is leading to. So in case it all turns upside down again (because one really never knows with you) - this is why you'll remain special. Because, as the cliche goes, there's a side of me that you brought out.

I've done this many times.

I've complained about how I absolutely do not have the patience to "reveal" myself the 2500th time, to talk about my quirks, my loaded uncle from Dubai whose phone I used and abused when I was in love for the first time, and my relationship with the brother I never had.

I've talked incessantly about my commitment phobia and how I tend to have this pattern of let's-move-real-fast-at-first-so-I-can-get-bored-of-you-even-quicker. I've expressed the complexities of my low self esteem and how I seek validation by proving that I'm really good in bed/a catch.

I've been in relationships. Some that haven't lasted as long as I wanted, and some that were just breezy and unnecessary.

I've had my share.

You, on the other hand, confound me.

I may not want to fall in love with you. I may not even want to feel like "something's happening".

But I DO want you. I want you in the same way I want a long vacation. Not in Goa, and not a high maintenance Tomorrowland tour, but maybe a short escapade from the city we both live in, where we can explore. And by explore, I really do mean the wide gamut of possibilities that the word poses.

I do want to hear you ramble, and smile at myself for having a conversation with someone who can speak more than I do. It's a scary possibility that I might be the more sorted person between the two of us, but maybe that's a facade? You seem nice, with all your sweeping assumptions and your ability to make one feel comfortable and excited at the same time.

You can be a handful, but so can I. The only difference is you take no time to burden the people around you with your baggage and I measure the ones who can take it. We could meet halfway, I guess. 

I'm pretty sure I sound like I'm counting my chickens before they hatch, but this is me putting my feelings out here. Grab them? I won't lie by pretending to be cool if you don't.
But, I think this should be fun. Let's do it. And, IT could mean anything you and me want it to mean.

Come along.