Silly Girl.

“Our wardrobe decisions tell others about the secret desires that we are trying to hide. Our feelings and emotions lie bare in the closet.” She thought and pulled out a long, flowing dress with a high neckline. The one which focused more on her sculpts rather on dreamy flares. Sensual but not revealing. She was getting ready for a wedding.

She chose this dress because she knew he likes it classy. He never gawked on plunging necklines or high slit. He carelessly read out a quote once “Classy is when a woman has everything to flaunt but she chooses not to”.

She didn’t know if he was right or wrong. She knew that she has to be classy because this man likes a classy woman - That’s it! It’s been 6 years that she has even heard from him and till the date she remembers verbatim, everything he ever said.
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***Back in the first few days of College - “You walked in late, very late. You walked across the room and made my heart skip a few beats. Blue rugged denim and barely tucked white T-shirt, careless and so insolent. You were like my perfect James Dean fantasy and I was your classic vanilla girl desire.

You caught me looking at you several times, and you noticed my nervous glance after that. My coyness attracted you as much as your indifference attracted me. And one day you asked me out. I still get goosebumps when I think about that day.

You just asked, “ We are going to a concert. Wanna join? “You did that while I was sitting in a class with 50 other students waiting for a lecture to start. I was so happy and so embarrassed at the same time. You were too cool to wait much. You said, “Never mind” and strolled on. I was in dilemma - People will judge me if I say yes but I was too much in love to say No- a little, far too much. I silently joined in. You introduced me to everyone in your friend circle and didn’t talk to me the entire evening that day. I was confused about your feelings about me. But it was just you, inexpressive.

For a month that I spent with you back then - I was always sublimed by everything you did. Everything I did probably annoyed you. I was always dead worried about getting caught, hanging with you, by some distant relatives in the city, always maintaining a distance so that nobody gets any wrong idea or that you may not get any wrong signal and what not.

You seemed to care the least. You always used to absent-mindedly hold my hand to lead me on roads. When I was most nervous, you always pulled me towards yourself in public with a witty smile - careless and shamelessly fearless. I disliked it. I loved it.

You always talked with a conviction, staring straight in my eyes. Never below them. It was attractive and intimidating at the same time. I liked to listen when you talked. You knew a lot.

You were so detached. You were never a “full night call” or “texting” kind of guy. I was the one who always texted, “Coffee?” only to get no reply ever. You said, “I love you” just once, and it was my chant for the entire month.

I once threw a half-lit Cigarette from your fingers. You gave me an irritated look. I was a little surprised and afraid of my guts that day. But after that, I never saw you with Cigarettes, at least in front of me.

I willingly gave in and forgiveness easily. I willingly let you have a say in everything I chose. I willingly wanted you to put your words in my mouth. I willingly wanted you to control me.

I don’t know, but it was not about individuality, not about feminism, not about confidence - It was my utter desire to be a part of him, to dissolve my being in his existence and blur the lines of our duality.

It was just a story of a silly girl who was hopelessly in love with a guy who perhaps was not as much in love with her."
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To be Continued