It
takes a while for that feeling to sink in. Rejection… Denial…
After
making love very overpoweringly, we were both gasping for a breather.
I lit
a cigarette and kept the ashtray on my belly balancing it in such a way that it
did not trip over and spoil the crisp cotton bed sheet while resting my head on
his arms.
“When
was the last time you had sex?” he asked me.
I
thought for a while trying to recall and then I said, “I do not remember”.
In that
dimly lit room, I could see the wink in his eyes. He thought I was lying…
trying to cover up or sound green.
“When
was it that you had sex the last time?” I asked him and without waiting for his
answer I continued, “A few hours? Days? Weeks?
Months?”
“Three
weeks”, he said as he took the cigarette from me and took a puff.
I pulled
him close to me and kissed him again. I wanted this moment to freeze. I looked
into his eyes and said, “I will fall in love with you…”
And
even before I could complete the whole sentence, I heard him saying this,
“No!
No! No! Don’t!”, as he moved his head from left to right in disagreement.
“Never
do that. I am not the guy you should be in love with”.
I
still kept looking at him, kissed him again and then smiled placidly.
“What?”
he asked.
“Nothing”,
I said.
“Come
off it, I know that smile of your. Tell me what it is”, he said he wanted to
know.
“Put
a baby inside me”, I told him.
“Crazy
woman”, he said and I felt he wanted to end the conversation.
“What?”
he still asked.
“Nothing”,
I said.
There
was a silence for a few minutes and then I said,
“Don’t
worry. I won’t say that I am in love with you. I like being with you. Be it
with clothes on or in my nakedness”.
“Me
too”, he said.
I
found it so hard to believe.
“Don’t
worry”, I repeated.
“Why
do you keep saying “Don’t worry” all the time?” he retorted.
“….uuummm
mmmm… see I won’t behave or … or…act like a possessive and a jealous girlfriend…lover…
you do not have to fret. I won’t stalk you either”.
And then
we spoke for a long long time. At time he’d sit up and at times he’d lie back
along with me caressing my arms, telling me amusing stories about his life,
while I was still lying naked on the bed with a quilt covering my bareness.
There
were times when I shifted and turned my back on him and also made sure he knew
the reason… my troublesome backache.
He came
close to me, spooned me and kissed me on my neck and shoulders as we still kept
talking.
This
is not the first time I am meeting him. We have known each other for about two
years now.
Sparks
flew from the time we met. He was shockingly
flirtatious the first time we met.
The next
time around when we met one on one, it was purely lust. Period.
As
he left town I had sent him a message inquiring if he had reached home safely. It
took him about 72 hours to reply to that message. And I knew it well, that I should
not expect anything from this hookup. We were just filling our void. Nothing more,
nothing less.
Meetings
like such happened a few times thereafter.
And then
after a while I did not feel too right about it. Maybe I was dumb…maybe I still
am… yet I knew, the only time he longed to make that connect was when he was
here. And then for the next few occasions, I always made a reason – genuine or
not… I did not want to see him.
Even
this time around, the first day I ignored him completely – not because it was a
conscious effort, but because I was disturbed mentally, feeling very low about
many thing in the personal front.
And
then as I came home after watching Whiplash, I replied him shortly, what was troubling
me and why I was so distant and aloof.
And the
emotional fool that I am, I gave in. I said,
“OK,
lets catch up, but we will wind up early…say by 9-ish, if its okay wih you.”
So
that was it.
He came
over…
We
were meeting after a year and a month. He was taken aback to see me so silent …because
that is not usually what I am.
Its been
five days now that we met, that I got rejected.
There
is one particular thing which I liked the most. In the two and hald years that I
have known him, he has never done a thing like this.
I
was sitting in the balcony talking to a friend of mine, gossiping over somebody
not so important in Facebook. I was seated in the old and rickety sofa with both my legs curled to
my left side. He was inside. Maybe he had gone to the washroom to freshen up. I
am still not aware. But as he walked back to the balcony and sat, I almost
removed my feet, making room for him, but he held both my feet with his hands
tightly and as I was still speaking to my friend, he kept holding on to my
forever cold feet, not letting me go.
He had a dinner invitation that evening.
“I
want to spend some more time with you”, he said and added, “ I know its past
the deadline you gave me, but still….”
I
smiled… and asked him his plan of action.
“…..hhhmmm
why don’t you wind up with your chores… and by that time I will attend the
dinner and come back. Make sure the gates are not locked. I don’t want to jump
over the gate”.
I
still kept smiling and said, “Call me if the gates are locked. I have a set of
spare keys”.
“Might not be able to call you as my cell phone is
almost dead”.
So
that was it. He left… I did my last winding up chores.
And then
I sat in the balcony again, all alone this time waiting for him… and trust me
when I say this, I have never waited so desperately for anybody in my life as I
waited for him that evening.
And those
moments seemed endless.
I
sent him a stinker. Can’t help it. This is so very me. I wrote to him, “I hate
waiting games”.
There
was no reply from him. His phone must have died a slow death by then.
It was
ten past eleven when he knocked on my door and came home back to me.
I am
missing him so badly now. Yet I cannot say that. The way he said that I should
not be in love with him is so still vivid; I swear on the life of mine, I will
never say that I love him.
Yes,
he is the wrong guy, yet he feels so right!
