A DAY ON THE OUTSIDE

Helloweeni Peeps!

Ever experienced so much discomfort among “friends” that you get so mad you want to punch something so hard that you hurt yourself?  Hurt yourself because you’re being so stupid!  I mean, why get mad at someone for being who they are?  I was being freakin’ stupid!

(I’m sorry if this will bore you, but writing is the only way I can ever say what I mean and mean what I say)

It’s Friday, 10:21 am and I’m supposed to be in class, but instead in my room.  As I’m typing this, my roommate’s puffing thick clouds of weed smoke and I’m sitting in front of his laptop coughing like an aged TB patient.  Steam is coming out of my ears with anger as I run the images of yesterday frame by frame inside my head, while steam from my two-hour-old cup of coffee has all but vanished.  Never have I ‘not belonged’ in my whole life.  Yesterday I stood staring blankly as they chat about their shared passion of politics in terminology that sounded so foreign to me.  An occasional question about a certain minister of a certain department popped my way every now and then, and as expected my reply would come in the form of shrugging my shoulders and a look of indifference on my face.  And then her eyes would roll in frustration and annoyance at my idiocy.  But she always gets the desired answer from them – those she sings praise of when alone with me or any other person.  Her (lol).  There’s always a “her”, isn’t there?

Why do I always feel this way around her?  I feel like she wishes I was more than I am.  Like whenever we have a conversation I could see it in her eyes who she wishes she could be having this conversation with.  My confidence is getting shattered as my fondness for her grows larger.  Driven by a heart’s desire but blinded by jealousy.  I’ve spent months analyzing her ambiguous Facebook statuses; making myself the smallest satellite without ever realizing I have made her my gravity.  Wondering if she’s okay.  Does she miss me?  Does she want me?  In my story I’m no longer the narrator.  What is it I hope to gain by folding my frame small enough to fit her palm?  When I can be as large as hope instead of being as small as regret.  I just want to fit into her world, because when I’m being myself I seem to extend the already existing distance between us.

Never have I ‘not belonged’ in my whole life.  On the sideline being the grumpy cheerleader whose as useful as a fur coat in summer.  But it was awesome seeing young people speaking so passionately about what they want to do; discussing how they should or will go about doing it.  The glow in her face as she belonged – her home away from home.  My face almost turned blue as I suppressed my anger and jealousy, suppressing it because what sort of insensitive bastard would I be if I’d ruin her mood.  Never have I met anyone who is such a quilt of dreams stitched together with blood, bone and limb.  I’m glad I am witnessing her promising journey.  A journey to where I definitely do not belong.

‘Till Next Time Peeps, BHA-BHAYINI!