Dreams

I wasn't exactly an adventurous or outdoorsy kid and my favourite passtime was day dreaming. I'd dream up stories anytime I had nothing to do at home and all the time when in class. I even rememer poor attempts at short story writing where the theme always was a 10 year old girl getting lost in a jungle, being scared shitless, learning to fight animals and survive and ended with her finding a tar road and flagging down a vehicle. My heroine's name was always Anjali. As I grew older, my day dreams got more romantic. I'd have a few favourite scenarios which I'd repeat over and over with different heroes (real innocent stuff, mind u! girls don't find dirty dreams that involving) while nodding at my Physics teacher. My college day dreams were altogether more based on reality and what my immediate future might hold, but I never forgot those cherished dreams which i believed would come true once I met the right guy. Probably the influence of many idealistic romances in classics. Reality taught me some lessons though. When I was in my first and only serious relationship, I thought time would make my dreams come true. It didn't. Nowadays, I'm afraid of dreams. I find them painful. They are so dear to me and to have them all crushed hurts. I don't dream good ones anymore. It's been a rough couple of months with no end to the misery in sight. I find it terrible ironic that lately, most of my nightmares have come true, but none of my dreams ever have.

Me!

I'm a pessimist. Optimism doesn't work for me. I've tried positive thinking. Nope. Things turn out especially bad if I think positive. Probably because I'm ill equipped to handle them having thought positively. At least you anticipate a bad turn when you are pessimistic. So pessimism has its pluses. And one huge con. It makes you lose confidence in yourself. Combine that with a heavy dose of insecurity. Makes for a basketcase. That's me! Doubting myself at every step of the way, scared about the consequences of my actions, fearing what lies ahead, unable to believe in myself even if I am capable. I'm guessing reader, that you wouldn't want to be me for a thousand bucks. Or a crore.

Apparently, this combination of insecurity, social ineptness (can't make small talk if my life depended on it) and a strong apprehension of amounting to nothing gives me a veneer of arrogance! This veneer breaks mostly after a few minutes of talking to me, cos it's easy enough to see through it. Which makes me a misunderstood person..............mostly.

Heartbreak

I'm tired. Tired of being depressed, of willing the phone to ring, staring obssessively at it. Most of all I'm tired of the wondering. Wondering why, wondering what he's doing, wondering how it is possible for him to not call, wondering if i'm really this meaningless to him. Two years seem so utterly meaningless now, everything seems false, the emptiness has to be felt to be believed. Is this me? Did I really make another person my world that the whole world now seems meaningless? The tears flow endlessly, all day. I look around me and a hundred things remind me of him: a gift, a TV commercial, a song. How do I escape this: his pervasiveness? It's suffocating me.