I know, I’ve not been regular with my blog posts lately, but there is a valid reason for that and since it’s the era of short and sweet, I’ve got three words for you – I’m in love. Being a cynical person in general and having years of experience mocking everything under the sun, I’ve grown to realize that loving someone has an inverse reaction to sarcasm. Hence the lack of posts!! Apologies.
Lately everything seems acceptable. Life suddenly has events, experiences and “late night nanga parties” to look forward to. Positivity is oozing out of me. I know, yuck! But I’m not done yet. I’m gonna dig deeper and find that too-good-for-everything-high maintenance-grumpy old self (please feel free to leave a comment with more adjectives) to keep this blog running.
I want to tell you my “story” (don’t stop reading, it’s not that kinda story). Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted a good meeting story that had elements of my personality in it. Although mine is very relevant to these times, I’m still taken aback when I think about how it all started. Maybe I’m more traditional than I’d like to admit.
But here goes –
We met on Twitter. 304 million active users and he was one among them. Apparently a lot can happen over 140 characters as well. It doesn’t end there. Both our tweets that caught each other’s attention was related to GoT, a book series that he and I was/am obsessed with. So, maybe it’s not your standard “good” meeting story, but in my world – internet, where I have spent most of my existence and GoT, which takes up most of my bookshelf space is a win win. Besides, anything beats meeting my soul mate on Tamil matrimony.
After exchanging a few tweets, which were publicly visible to people stalking our profiles, we decided to take it to the next level – Direct message, one of the few chatting spaces that provide privacy and the ability to keep your phone number intact. 160 messages later, it was no longer intact because I felt my “kuch kuch hota hai” moment and shared it with him.
I have to be honest with you guys, but I was all over him from the very beginning. I shared information, both written and visual voluntarily and had no regrets later. We both interacted so freely and openly that a bystander would confuse us for old chaddi buddies. This one time he was traveling back home in train and although I was at work, our conversation went through every station there is between Chennai and Kasargod.
My life lacked a lot of spontaneity, which the universe is making up for. On one random day working in office, I got the urge to meet him and within the next 30 minutes, I was printing out my flight tickets. This may have been a huge deal for others, but it felt so right for me. Flying all the way to Chennai to meet a random guy I met online for the first time without telling my parents could have easily blown up in my face and resulted into many blog posts bashing men and life in general, but thankfully for men, this one was pure gold (a few more awww moments, I promise).
I wanted to look perfect for him so much so that all through my flight, I sat straight and avoided resting the back of my head on the seat. Even a strand of hair in the wrong place was unacceptable. Between landing and collecting my luggage, I must have visited the restroom thrice (they have full sized mirror in there). I was visualizing the moment that is about to take place.
Me – Walking through the arrival gate
He – The first person I see
Both – Smiling
But obviously the above didn’t happen. I couldn’t find him for the first 5 minutes. Then suddenly he comes up from behind and surprises me. For all the care I was taking to look presentable, he came to pick me up in his tracks and I can bet he hadn’t even combed his hair. He was perfect. The weekend was perfect. The kissing selfie was perfect. When it was finally time to go home, I felt miserable. In other words it was time for the ecstasy to wear off and go back to my boring reality.
2 months. 60 days. 1,440 hours. 86,400 minutes. 51,84,000 seconds.This was the time we lived together at his bachelor pad in Chennai along with two other flatmates. Being someone who hasn’t had a hostel life or lived by herself ever, the fact that I had to live in a house with two other men who wouldn’t even wash my clothes seemed overwhelming at first, but then again with all the “happy endings” I was getting, washing my own undies seemed only fair.
The best part was the bike rides with him. If you know me, then you would know that I love bikes and I love riding on them. He provided both. Ergo perfect.
He saved the best for last. On my last day there, he took a day off from work and spent the entire day with me. Granted, the morning was spent sleeping and waking up late with a hangover, but afternoon onwards, it was magical. We saw a Tamil romantic movie – “o kadal kanmani”and then he took me to a fancy place for dinner to celebrate his promise. A promise I’ve been dying to get from him ever since I met him for the first time. A promise to love me, marry me, have babies with me and die with me. Since then, my sorry existence has changed to one with unconditional and absolute happiness.
To give you a sense of the timeline, all of the above (discovery-love-promise) happened over a span of 6 odd months. Some might say it’s too fast to make a decision as big as marriage, but I say “fuck you losers having mommy/daddy issues”.
Speaking of daddy..
My father can be described as a disciplinarian, who shoos off any homosapien of the opposite sex from even thinking about it. So going up to that guy and telling him his plan didn’t work requires two pairs of balls. And I didn’t have even one. (Read – An affair to remember.. for more details)
*Going into gaga mode*
I’ve had past relationships, so I make no claims of waiting for him, but truth be told, If I hadn’t been in those past relationships, I wouldn’t have appreciated this present one in its true essence and probably would have broken up with him when WhatsApp came out with the blue ticks function (aren’t we all a victim to that?). I shit you not, every cheesy, cliche, mushy feeling that people in love describe to have experienced – they are all true! Hopefully since it’s coming from someone who appeared suicidal in all her previous blog posts, you will try to accept it.
This feeling is unreal. It makes you question who you really are, because 2 years ago, you were bullying the girl giving phone kisses to her boyfriend and now 2 years later, you want a return kiss as well. That’s plain hypocrisy, you might say but it’s just that his kisses are so darn good that I keep asking for more. Not just that, I keep asking for ummm…..never mind.
I’ve always been a firm believer of open communication, whether it’s with your family, friends, superiors, or the person you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with. When you know someone so well, you understand their perspective, their wisdom, their naivete. Also, it’s really handy to keep an eye on him.
That’s my story so far. Okay, I lied. It is that kinda story.
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