Life (or the lack thereof) as it is now.

So I clearly have the attention span of a two year old poodle. Because after two hours of psychotic rant from Y about how googling ex-es and old crushes past 12 am is a bad bad idea and nodding my head vigorously and hanging on every word she said like my life depended on it, the first thing that I did when it struck midnight was, well, you know what right?

So I looked up old crush from the first year in college who left in the beginning of the second year and moved right back to his home town leaving a bullet hole in my heart. Okay that is a solid amount of totally pointless exaggeration. But hey! the guy was tall, funny, cute, super intelligent, street smart, with a cute wild mop of hair, a sense of humor to kill for, an enviable stock of jokes that were so spot on that you’d be wondering if you’re a part of a well choreographed play; he played the blues, was and is a wonderful singer, an avid reader, with a mind-boggling fund of superhero and comics trivia, easy-going and not lame. And I was only 19! (at this point while writing, I took a break and smiled like an idiot before the father caught me at it.) 😛

When the guy was around, all I did was take a leaf out of Bridget’s book, or rather, diary and be like the Ice Queen, all aloof and oblivious to his presence, openly gushing about random wannabes and the kind of guys that make me want to run now. (Dear D, if you’re reading this, remember I don’t need you to take pot shots at me by reminding that all kinds make me want to run now.) and well pretending that his presence didn’t make much difference to me. (Go ahead, mock me now.). And because this is real life, reality came to bite me in the rear to remind me that in real life, it’s the gorgeous, rich, tall, waif-thin, supposedly deep and philosophical, obnoxious high school head cheerleader type ‘It girl’ friend who takes the cake; the pathetic, fat, pimply, hopelessly out-of-shape, whiney little pinhead who seriously needs to work on her communications skills, blushes furiously every time she sees him and refuses to have a decent conversation with him because she is horribly nervous and is desperately trying to play it cool doesn’t stand a chance. And she didn’t. I mean I wouldn’t have dated myself if I were someone else. That’s pretty much it. Or I thought so. 😐

So I looked him up and guess what? He is still awesome and funny and has grown cuter and everything. If this were a book, I’d have been thin and gorgeous and had a kickass job. But because it is not and because karma comes to kick your ass while you are picturing yourself meeting old crush and being awesome and letting yourself be wooed by him and rubbing aforementioned It girl’s face in it, you are still fat and dumb and broke and living off your parents and completely inured to the way things are. You are the ‘ugly’ Ugly Betty, for good, with no hope for redemption. Cleaver type men will never pay attention to you. It is only a matter of time now before you shave your head and join a monastery.

In retrospect, life isn’t that bad really. It’s just fun to complain I know. 😛 For instance, I am comfortable with the place where I am in now. In a few months to come, I will be moving out-a change of scene will do me heaps of good. I am single and whine about it but I wouldn’t trade my freedom for even Bruce Wayne at the moment. (I will sneak out at night for a rendezvous, yes. What the heck?! It’s Bruce Wayne!!! 😐 ). I am not getting laid any time soon and people keep on reminding me that everyone, from the biggest slut to the biggest prude around me is doing it and I need to find out where I figure between the two and that the longer you go without sex, the bitchier you get. But that’s okay. (and yes D, I can hear you saying “and you still wonder why people thing you’re a robot?”).

So my point in this extremely random pointless post is that even though I struck out with this guy (now this is technically wrong. I never did ask him out or anything.), does this make me a lost cause? Well, there are several schools of thoughts on that, but I’d go with NO! It doesn’t. I am good. I am awesome. I have my moments of utter confusion which sometimes render me a little low on confidence. But then I am also known to be annoyingly optimistic and get back on track and keep being awesome. My life’s good. Great actually. 🙂 I will stumble back and forth between confusion, abject failure and dejection from time to time but then who doesn’t? Make good use of time allotted to you on this earth, that’s the gyaan I am going to impart to all who have endured this post so far. I mean, there is no such thing called the ‘wrong side’ of any age, right?

Think about it. Even when you hit rock bottom and imagine that you have no prospects and you have already experienced every piece of crap life can possibly throw at you, you need to get on with your life right? There is always a chance to start over (and you can always sit atop a rock and compare your life with that of the most disturbingly deranged damaged person you know and you will always have a whole new outlook on life, a happier and more optimistic one.) I mean, you just need to figure out who you are and what you want from life and how to use your time to, well, make the most of it. And you don’t know what lies in store for you. I mean one day, say some 15 years later, when I finally manage to lose weight and not look like a demon from a cheap B-grade mythological show, I might meet this guy in all my newfound awesome glory and well, you know. (Okay when I say that I know a thing or two about this sort of gyaan,  please note that I am lying.  This is all I got.)

Does this mean I am completely over him and given a chance, wouldn’t do over first year again? ‘No’ to the first question and ‘I don’t know’ to the second. I don’t know if I want to go back to being a silly, juvenile, horribly cheesy, annoyingly geeky and vulnerable 19 year old again just for the sake of experiencing the crush all over again. But I don’t know if I want my present self to get a time machine and make a trip to 2007 and re-live it; I might see the guy in a whole new light and not crush on him at all and that would be really sad. Crushes are inconvenient, time-consuming and pathetic; but they do make you feel younger J.

Root of my insomnia is psychological, yes. I think looking up old crushes past midnight might have something to do with it. Screw you Google.

P.S:  Ice queen. – Aloof. Unavailable? yes. also add ‘recipe for disaster in potential relationships’ to it.


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