~ three parts mad, and the fourth delirious, with perpetual rushing of hard times ~ Dickens

Saturday, August 9, 2014

On 8/09/2014 11:57:00 PM by Unknown   No comments
I saw her only once in last seven years. It had been almost 7 years that we last talked, had it not been the few minutes few days back. It had been countless half calls, and about a dozen friend requests, since I last saw her. Life took quite a turn, few affairs, many flings, a new country, a lot happened. However, there wasn't a day I stopped thinking about her.

It all started when I went to join high school in Biratnagar. I was supposed to stay in my Relative's house that was opposite to hers. I always wondered from the beginning, why she never hang around with other friends in the neighborhood. I got to know from others the answer to why. We never talked, we didn't see each other much. Jesus, I hated her when she used to prepare for her SLC, all those Loud Reading before exam days irritated me to excess. I don't know how all that started to change.
By the time she started her high school, and I went to senior year, all that changed. I become attracted to her to the point that every time she went to her rooftop or balcony, I had to find some excuses to watch her. I used to spend hours watching her study besides her window, from my room. We used to play cricket often after school, and I always fielded on long on or bowled, so that I could have a glance of her, if she come out of her room. I never did manage to find the courage to pour over all those feelings. And sadly, she never got to know how I felt about her. Funnily though, my friend called her from college, and well told her many things (I don't exactly know what, but both of us were summoned by principal after her complain). For a year, my feeling for her kept growing and growing. Childish that I was, couldn't ever find a courage to tell her when I had the chance.
It was only after few year, when we finally talked again, that I managed to tell her how I felt about her. It was too late, so is now, even more late. The story sounds like of some college geek, who is deeply in love with some blonde cheerleader, who is also intimidated by her presence. I was neither a college geek, nor she was a blonde cheerleader, yet, this is how our half-love turned out to be.
Who did I Loved really? The one I couldn't even say goodbye to, while I was leaving Bangladesh for good. That one self-obsessed, insecure, and rude bitch with whom I had a otherwise good 4-5 months with, except for her "that periods". Or, the egotist whom I thought as a Best Friend only (a funny word if I recall what actually happened afterwards), who ultimately "Let Me Go" for my own good (according to her). There were few others too. But, even after all those times, all those peoples, all the incidents, there was one image that I couldn't let go. The image of her, coming out to her balcony, or the sound of her voice.
I don’t know, if she is going to read this. I don't know what she is going to do if she reads this. I do know that, last Sunday was probably one of the best days in long-long time. And, I know that, this post is for the first time I ever fell in true love. If only I knew it was going to be this difficult to forget it, I am sure approaching it wouldn't have been that difficult.

To the #HalfGirlfriend, I hope you read this.

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