Archive for romance

Feeding

Day 10,125 – Wednesday – 14 Jyaistah 1930 – 29 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 04 June 2008

Saturday night, a large group of losers, me and my friend HS and his wife decide to go for food on the highway. Mind you, Saturday night. The rest of the world is getting drunk and then having meaningless lovemaking on banana leafs and persian carpets. And we are going for food to the other end of my known universe. After travelling through disgusting traffic, we reached the desired location. Fed on inordinate amounts of fatty, fried, meaty delights. And, to our most utter surprise, on our return journey, decided to take the Liari Expressway, and were home in less than half an hour.

I would have to say that after eating for three people, returning home at midnight, sleepy as mary-fucking-hellish-poppins it was an absolutely amazing surprise to cut half an hour of traffic from our drive. I would rate it at 0.789302 orgasms.

Oh, and despite the exercise (I ran 2.7 Kms today) I dont see any drastic changes. The patrician signage of the extended stomach is there. My butt is still large and squashy. And of course, I realized today, that I have man boobs. I mean fucking shit. If I wore an A sized bra; it would actually do me good. So I guess I will shift to absolutely nothing other than fruit for lunch.

Damnit! I want something to email and tell me he loves me, and meet up with me and make ever sweet love to me whilst respecting me as a person and loving me back. WELL!!! And in case you are reading this (stupidest fucking brainless logically devoid question to ask) and you are not that guy, please set me up with a friend of yours.

Thank you, and good bye. From yours trule, psychotics united.

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Romantic

Day 10,104 – Wednesday – 24 Vaisakh 1930 – 08 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 14 May 2008

Right now, I am in an incredibly romantic, lonely, longing, bored and expectant mood. Extremely. Bittersweet feelings. A mellow painful longing.

Someone I was chatting online with sent me a link on Greys Anatomy where these two guys are kissing. And, it felt so pure, so lovely and so intense. I just slipped into this mood.

I am thinking that, since I am fat, ugly, and non sexually attractive. I might never find someone. And what of a life lived alone. I know what I want. But I cant get it. What do I do now? Get married?

Yueck! Absolutely confused.

Fin

Day 10,090 – Wednesday – 10 Vaisakh 1930 – 23 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 30 April 2008

From 00:06 on the 6th of April 2008 to 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. 25 days. 598 hours. 35,895 minutes. An exceptionally beautiful period of my life. Everything, completeness and absolution. Generally, words are too ill designed to define beauty. So is the case here. I can only describe comparable feelings and snippets of thought that will be so personalized that the words that describe a cosmos’ worth of meaning to me would mean nothing to anyone else. So, I will not. Because I can not. If there is anything called love / lust at first sight; this was it. And more. Since the first instant, my beliefs that had taken ages to develop in a different environment, came crashing down. I matured at the rate of months per hour. I was transformed completely. Maybe forever.

I get a message at 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. “yar dont you think we lack in chemistry.i do.it is like we are siblings.have not felt any sparks.it is good that we did not label it.we are better off as friends.what do you think”. Which, as per the norms of the rules of human behaviour and conduct, resulted in an immediate phone call. 11 minutes and 58 seconds later; it was over. It was already too good to be true. I can not have it. Done. Final. Bye. I tried, and also wanted, to spend every moment of my life with him. But. The inevitable but. What beautiful words, if and but. So little, yet so much.

May God save us from unrequited love.

I can still remember the time when he either nodded off or was just lying there. I was wearing my Che Guevara T shirt. He was on my left, cradled in my arms. His nose buried in Che’s beret. I remember thinking at that point in time that I felt so complete that I could do this forever. Later on, when I went home, I sniffed Che’s beret, so I could have the same feeling that he did. And see if he had left any imprint on it. I hate that shirt now.

Humans are such complex creatures. We need to lie. Sugarcoat. Lie. Tell untruths. Use words. Massage egos. Safeguard feelings. And hence, eventually prove to ourselves that since we are not inordinately harsh, in our opinion, on others, we are good people. We rationalize our every action. Since all humans do this, all humans know that the other person is doing this. So, as per the rules of any break up call, I was told that “you are a very nice guy”. Firstly, why the fuck would anyone want to be a nice guy, when they can be marauding barbarians brimming with fulfilled sexual urges. Secondly, I dont understand what the fuck being a nice guy means. Thirdly, why the fuck cant people be original. I mean, sure, you are going to wrench someone’s heart out. But, at least try to be original. It makes for good stories and blog entries after that person has finally gotten over you.

All said and done. He told me multiple times that he didnt feel “the thing” since the beginning. And I was told that this was precisely the reason why I was told very early on not to label this as anything. I did not. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I should know that if I dont label it in congress I should not label it personally. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He took this long because he wanted to ensure that this lack of feeling “the thing” was not due to the issues that he is facing in life. Fair enough. Basically, in plain English, he didnt find me attractive. Period. I mean, sure, I know I am not a good looking guy. And I realize this was not said, but sugarcoated. But, this was definitely not good for my over inflated ego.

After reading all this, I need not have to say this, but, there was no sex in the relationship. There were two occasions when we were alone, and on both occasions I got a bit amorous. Sorry. Horny young man in the presence of possible sex. I need to be forgiven. Please. I realized a couple of days after the second attempt that he did not feel at all attracted to me. He stopped me on both occasions with yet more sugarcoated sentences. Now, I feel so disgusting, so vile, so perverted. I feel like I was conducting rape. I actually shudder when I think of the ramifications of the thing. I just hope I wash myself of this feeling. I dont think most people can understand this, but it was disgusting. I feel so seriously unclean after this experience that it is not easy to explain or write this down.

Guys, and also girls, it doesnt really fucking matter if you have a good personality. It doesnt. It is about the looks. Trust me. For one, I am a guy, and I know this. The ones with the good personality are made friends, and the good looking ones are slept with. Choose your pick. Would you like conversation or sex? I mean, at least for me, I am clear on this. In case you still didnt understand. It is the latter. I have learnt that one should never subordinate sex to any other feelings. I will not do that again.

I was also told that since I am a nice guy he would like to be friends. Sure, it is very easy for you, wrench my heart out and then smile back and want to be friends. I dont know what to do. I dont want to seem weak and vulnerable and sulk. So, I will have to maintain a pretence of friendship. But it is not supposed to be long, he is going to go abroad in a month and a half. I think I can pass that amount of time like this. Hopefully. Fuck. It just feels so fucking painful to just be told sorry good bye all of a fucking sudden. I dont think I have been able to process this. I just started writing as soon as the call was over. Maybe I dont want to deal with this.

There is another thing. I am an idiot. He had been hinting at this for at least a week now. Seems so in retrospect. I just didnt get the hint. I attributed it to something or the other. But the fact of the matter is that I am very very very bad with hints. I keep persisting, until someone tells me in plain English that they are not interesting and that I will not be a part of their life any more. At least I can say that I learnt one thing in this relationship. I should not be making any more effort than the other person and if their interest in me wanes a bit, I should label the relationship as dead. Making an effort on my part and giving the other person the benefit of the doubt is incredibly stupid. It makes things difficult both of myself and the other guy. Lesson learnt. Life will move on.

So, basically, something that I was ready to do anything for. Something that I had invested in emotionally. Something that no words can explain. A happy edge to my life. A beautiful taste to my food. A strong fragrance in my breath. It is over. And all I can do is blog about it.

Yet again, a farewell. One that is so painful to go through, but, a farewell none the less.

PS – Written on Thursday morning. He called me up to meet up with him and a friend last night. Since I had already told him I will do this earlier on in the day, I said yes. I could not say no. It would have been awkward. So, we met up. Incredibly painful. Incredibly. I can not explain. And I seem to have kept up appearances quite reasonably. The moment I got out of the car and said good bye. I knew it. I can not see him again. It is just so fucking painful. I can not see him again.

It is over.

Effort

Day 10,085 – Friday – 05 Vaisakh 1930 – 18 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 25 April 2008

As defined by my friend AI from university, “relationships are a bitch”. Which when translated into the language of RA, the guy who sits in front of me at work, becomes, “relayshaships are a biyatch”. I love the word biyatch, it is a lot more direct and final than bitch. Moving on. Things with Doctor Sahab are going quite well. I am not going to be blogging about my relationship. I just will not. So help me God! But I will be blogging about themes of relationships that I have experienced in the past and that others have experienced. Interesting topic.

Even though I am quite psychotic, but, I do not make an effort in my relationship because I have to. I do it because of the way I feel about this thing. I do it because I want to. I have not reached the phase of commitment. Keeping in view my severe desire to keep absolutely independent whilst everyone around me adores me and makes me the centre of attention at all times, I will not be putting too much effort into this thing; because I have to. I am making the effort because I want to.

It is not because I am evil, afraid of commitment, self centered, oh and yes, “a bitch” – as per my evil friend SR from work. It is because I have just not reached that stage of this relationship.

And, as for the whole concept of demand and supple of effort, as opposed to the concept of demand and supply of products by Adam Smith, I have realized, that I do want him to make an effort. Something that scared the fucking hell out of me in each past relationship. I was told, in so many words, that I needed to make some effort. I mean, me, the paragon of nicety and selflessness, not making an effort! Let the Gods shudder!

Of course, despite being evil and sarcastic, I have not said this to Dr Sahab. I have learnt just one thing from all of my past failures at relationship management, do not tell people that they are not making an effort.

Of course, after Dr Sahab I now know how the other person feels. When the other person says, “you said you will call but you didnt. Why?” or when the other person says “you are free right now, but you are going out with friends?” and other such things. That is just not right, and it is dangerous. Because the moment you say something like that, the other person freaks the fuck out and wants to run out the nearest exit, no matter how much they like you.

Imagine a Deer, a beautiful young virile male deer with his antlers held high. Free as a buck. And then imagine an evil eyed doe, beautiful and young but with a huge noose of thorns and flesh cutting metallic protrusions. And then imagine the deer realizing that for the rest of his life, he will be held liable for every time he doesnt make a call or goes out with his friends or just needs to not pay excessive attention to the doe. Ok. So the guys get it. But the women – dont judge me, I am just the messenger of the turth of the species. Not the one who designed them.

But, the fact of the matter is that. I want effort. Because every time an effort is made, it makes me feel satisfied in the way this relationship is going. It makes clear the level of commitment of the other person. It provides me with a certainty, a finality, a sudden feeling of calm.

But, and please read this part, since I am not married to him, yet, I am not going to ask him to make an effort, because there is no other surefire way of making him run away than that. And frankly, I dont want him to make any effort that is out of the way for him. I want him to let this thing grow as naturally as it will grow. If it works out, it works out. If it doesnt, it doesnt. No artificial commitments.

Oh, and for once, I am not playing any games whatsoever.

PS – A relationship between two gay guys, who behave like straight guys as far as intimacy is concerned, is very very very very very difficult. Since there is absolutely no sharing of information on the topics of emotions and feelings, it is very dificult to gauge where everyone is. But, ladies! We do indeed get to share that, just by knowing the other person and not demanding to be told every five fucking seconds. Thank you.