Chapter 3: Girl No. 2

Kids, love is like pizza. It is best when enjoyed alone with the right kind of ingredients, custom-made and most importantly, you should not rush it! Well, pizza can be enjoyed with friends pouncing on their share, speeding up the swallowing part to have more but, you know.... I couldn't think of a better example.

Keeping aside all the crushes I fostered that slowly wilted to their fate, my first and only real romance awaited me in my first year of college. It was all things great because it was the first and it had a doomed fate because if I was chalk, she was cheese. That too, not the kind of cheese that'd make my pizza crust! That makes this chapter more of an embarrassment than a story, I am writing it down just for documentation's sake.


I won't delve into the whole "who came onto whom" saga because that's pointless and I'd be a total jerk if I told everyone that SHE totally came onto me during our long train journey together for 36 hours! Well, she cried before sleeping that night and you know me, can't see a girl cry. Little I knew that some girls LIKE to cry and they actually LIKE jerks who make them cry every night. It's like "Baby, have you wept your eyes out tonight?" "No?" "Then let me call you names and teach you the meanest and rudest curse words of our times, that'd prove how much I love you..."

The drama as I later learned was a part of her daily routine. Coming to the erstwhile scenario, I took her as a damsel in distress and made her smile, laugh and tried to be her prince charming. The charm was disarmed and the prince winced once he realized what he was doing. He was actually playing part of an ad-hoc boyfriend until the real boyfriend got jealous and stopped acting up.

For every trifle reason, she used to slap my shoulder, back, head (sometimes) and ass (ok, that was once and she said sorry for that). I found it cute for a while, like a way to touch me, to connect, until my joints started hurting and I felt the need of a shield when I was with her. I am sure though, her tight slaps would have
burrowed holes through any metal shield.

And... there was something wrong with her mannerisms. If she was telling you something, it would seem like she was on stage doing a theatrical and was supposed to be loud and clear for the audience to hear. It was annoying.

She had tales about how guys kept ogling at her and how she thinks everyone ogles at her. Even her homepage read "go ogle" instead of "google". Ok, now that was a bad one. The point is, she was self obsessed basically.

Point to be noted here is that I realized all these follies in her character once it dawned upon me that she was still in love with her ex and actually liked the psychosis associated with their relation.

One day, I withdrew my contention very politely, claiming that we will always be friends (I have not called her till now and it's been 3 years)... but we are still on talking terms.

Lesson one.
Every girl that flirts with you, doesn't see a future with you.

Lesson two.
It's not necessary to reciprocate the feelings of someone if you don't feel the same way... the playground is alluring, but it doesn't feel good when you are running around the ground in your knickers and realize that the audience is laughing at you instead of clapping. Play only when it's due.

Lesson three.
No matter how awkward your break-up is and no matter how awful your partner was, you can always be friends with your ex if you can totally get her out of your head.

Kids, your dad isn't a psycho-socially healthy being either. I would dedicate one chapter on my own follies. But, until then...

More later.