Figments of My Overly-Active, Hopelessly-Romantic Imagination… Final Part

Because she found no gentleness or warmth in his eyes, like she had in her day dreams. There was anger. Irritation. A possible desire to slap her.

“What is the matter with you? Don’t you realize that I don’t love you. It is irritating to see you like this, moping around, whining, begging for my attention. You say out loud without mentioning my name that “someone” is not taking your hints. Haven’t you realized that you are the one who is not taking hints?! When you have screamed for a response, and I have not bothered to give you one, doesn’t that tell you anything? Have I ever led you on to believe that I might have feelings for you?”
She was silent. Numb.

“ANSWER ME!!!” he demanded.

She remained silent. The minutes were ticking by. She started thinking about her bus again. It was dark and she did not want to walk out of the office campus alone.

“What is it that you don’t have? Why are you unhappy? What makes you think getting a response from me will make you happy? Tell me!”

She finally looked up at him. No, he had not led her on. If anything, he had made it very clear to everyone how stupid he thought her to be and how much he hated her. Perhaps that was it. She just wanted something she couldn’t have. And made an utter fool of herself on the way. It had happened before. She wanted to say all this to him, but words couldn’t find her. All she could focus on was the pair of eyes behind those glasses. She thought of that evening, long ago, when he had called out her name before driving off. His eyes were all she could see, and she recognized him. She later pretended she hadn’t known who it was. She did not know why she did that. But now she knew, she loved those eyes and the person they belonged to. She knew that while everything he was saying now made sense, and wasn’t the least bit surprising, she was dying inside. She suddenly felt she needed air, the darkness was closing in on her, and she wanted to run. She wanted to dig a hole in the ground and bury herself. She was sad, heartbroken, embarrassed, rejected… and numb… Unable to respond. She could only look up at him and stare mutely, reinforcing his belief that she was just mind-numbingly dumb.

“I gotta go.” he finally said. “Get a grip on yourself. Stop making such a fool of yourself, your friends are laughing at you. So for your own sake, just stop writing shitty stuff. No one cares, except maybe those looking to have a good laugh at your expense.” He ran down the granite stairs, she stood frozen on the spot. She realized there were people who probably overheard the exchange.  She could feel their pitiful eyes on her. She started walking slowly towards the buses.

She reached the office bus stand. The bus had already left.

4 thoughts on “Figments of My Overly-Active, Hopelessly-Romantic Imagination… Final Part

  1. Indrani August 31, 2013 / 2:11 AM

    It is better things are clear, it may be sad for a while but good in the long run.
    Good flow of words, gripped my attention.


  2. Sreesha Divakaran August 31, 2013 / 9:09 AM

    Thank you, Indrani.

    Yes, you are right about things being made clear; not knowing whether to wait or give up is often frustrating. And in fiction, people always want to give a happy ending that is too sugar-coated for reality.


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