For years, she had believed that her autonomy lay greatly in
her choice of restraining herself from surrendering her emotions for someone –
no matter how meaningful or exciting. She was a strong, she believed, because
she didn’t feel she had to spend her time forcefully thinking about someone who
made her heart skip a beat; to mindlessly associate her romantic feelings for
someone with lyrics of a song; to wait for someone to look around and
reciprocate what she had in her heart for him. It was something they do. They?
Those who feel they need attention to recognize their worth. Those who
desperately seek an approval from a man. Those who live in a world too
different and romantic than the actual one.
Maybe, just maybe, that is why she found herself in an
undecipherable dilemma when it happened.
She saw him talking to his friends in the most careless way
possible. A couple of notebooks in one hand, standing as lousily as possible.
She hated it. She stood too far to hear his voice but managed to anticipate
through his gestures that he meant to persuade the other person. He was tall –
tall enough to look down at his friends. But why did she care. She looked away.
She was observant and this was just an observation.
Next day, while she sat on the bench waiting for her friend
to find her, she looked down at her phone to make the otherwise socially
awkward situation escapable. It was a busy corridor. Annoyingly loud and
overwhelmingly crowded. Some chuckles here, some laughter there. It was really
hard to listen to people standing nearby rest aside those who stood 10 steps
away yet she could hear a soft heavy voice. It seemed strangely likeable.
Whatever it was, she looked around. It was the same tall, fair skinned lousy
boy talking to a bunch of people as strange to her as he was. He stood out from
all of them. Not because he was particularly better looking or different – he
just stood out. Before she could figure why, her view was blocked by the friend
she had been waiting to meet.
Days passed. She barely saw him again. It was fine. She
probably had paid so much attention because he was weird. Convincing herself
not to be too judgmental, she gave up the idea of even thinking over it.
She saw him the other day with people she knew of. It didn’t
matter. Looking away, she started walking without a destination in mind. She
just had to walk away from that sight. Why? She didn’t know. Lost in a
labyrinth of thoughts as vague as they ever could be, she felt her arm slightly
brush against someone’s shirt and she unconsciously cringed. Looking around,
she saw the guy. It was him.
She hated him even more. For taking away her freedom. For
poisoning her mind. For weakening her heart. She couldn’t help but think of
him. Every day, she would hope to see him around. Never accepting how special
his sight was to her, she always knew from the inside that it was different...
