This is a letter to someone. The one that I have a hunch I'll ultimately end up with. I have absolutely no guts to tell it to his face, I choose the cowardly way of doing so, blogging about it under an alias.
The contents ahead are personal. I clearly don't mind anyone reading it, but him. Read it if you want to know one of my innermost secrets or read it as fiction or read it for whatever reason you want. I just have to let it out.
Hi, Mr. Shreesha Iyengar
We met in school. I was an outsider. We got along well, you taught me to play tennis. We were good friends. We went on a school picnic and had fun there as well. I left for Mumbai, we kept in touch through Y! Messenger. I will still maintain that I called you, twice, from here, sneaking money away from home to go to the STD booth to call you (Initial days of moving to Mumbai). I don't know why you never bothered. While chatting on IM, you told me you loved me while I was helping you out with this other girl at your college. You said it didn't work out with her because of your feelings for me. You wanted something between us. Considering the distance between us, I said no. We remained friends. Due to the distance, the "keeping-in-touch" was on and off. When we did speak, it was for a long duration and very deep. Then my best friend tells me one day "Did you see his Orkut profile? It says committed." It was a shock, no less. i asked you and you said, yes, you had a girlfriend. I felt deeply hurt that you didn't tell me. When I asked you for a reason why you didn't tell me of this development, you said "I didn't want you to blabber it to your friends here that you are keeping in contact with." What, am I not supposed to tell my BFF from this former city I lived in that a guy friend from our school had said that he loved me? I was saddened and hurt and angry and depressed that you now belonged to someone else. I made my peace with it and stayed as civil I could with you. You were and are dumb enough to not notice the spitting of words from my side. We have been in contact quite a lot this past month. i like it. We have connected very well. Suddenly, I am able to talk to you about just anything under the sun, really, anything. Because I know for a fact that you will not judge me, no matter what. I loved it when you responded the same way when I said "I don't think I'd be able to talk shit like this with anyone, least of all, future boyfriend/husband!" You are going through a rough patch now. Your Princess is yet to tell her parents about you while they are in a hurry to get her married off, you are having trouble finding a job. You said she is holding back at the moment after just telling you "find a job and come speak to my father"; I hate that bitch to leave you in a lurch like that! You made it clear in other words that I will be the last resort for you, if Princess is sent off with someone else and the "I love you" that you gave me on IM a couple of years ago, has just become a "Princess knows I have a crush on you." Speaking to you today, on 29.06.13 for close to two hours on the phone, while you were drunk gave me a sudden intuition (epiphany?) that we are supposed to be together. I don't know why that is, I don't know whether I am over you, I don't know what grip you have over me, I don't know what my love toward you is, just friendship or something more. We talk a lot, but anything and everything. We are perfect together. you talk more to me than to your girlfriend. I know that she doesn't like me even though you say "she has no problem." Honestly, at the moment, your chances with the Princess seem slim. It makes me smile internally. Bitch I am, I know. Although, I don't know what I'd do if you do get the Princess. I don't know whether I'd get closure, ever. All I can say is, till date, i have always compared every guy that has entered my life to my Appa and next, you. They don't quite meet the standard. You said today that you missed me, you said you needed someone to talk to. I miss you too, I think i even love you, dear Mr. Shreesha Iyengar. I wonder if you've ruined me for other men. (Cliche?)