There are these extremely depressing blogs, written by extremely depressing people, the kind you and I would kill at sight, they write about how they met their girl, how they asked her out, how she said no at first and then how that became a “yes” later on, moans and tears, you get the drift? They all go the same way. Most of these poorly written stories also have a happy ending, which is why I’m writing my poorly written love story before the happy ending actually happened. Finally the day has come where I have to make one of those celebrated “love story” posts.
That’s right kids, this elevator is going down.
Like all heterosexual “love stories”, mine is also about a girl, and like all girls in all love stories, she’s so f-ing hot!, may be not to you, but to me, she is, and always will be. She means a lot to me, on several levels. The attraction was so intense that, I had to debate with myself several times about asking her out. You may be wondering why? See, apart from being the hottest chick I know who makes me feel warm all of a sudden on a cold night when I see her name coming up online, she is also one of my best friends, not the kind you say, ‘hey, i’m your best friend’, but the kind you can talk to any odd time, without worrying about being judged, the kind that can take a joke and give two back. Isn’t it only natural if I thought I’d be a little mature this time and decide to stay as just friends ? We all know how my other asking-her-outs went, don’t want this to go down the same way now, do we ?
As it should happen, since otherwise this wouldn’t be a story worth telling, I did ask her out, not once, not twice, atleast a frigging dozen times (well only because she kept saying No). Let me get to the end first, she never said yes, not till today, not till now. So, like all brave soldiers of fucked up love stories, I kept trying.
And then I stopped trying. Hey! before you start judging me, it was not because I stopped loving her. If you’re wondering, “then why on earth…”, that, my friend, is the story I wanted to tell you in the first place.
One morning, like three-in-the-morning morning, while I was working, I was feeling so stressed (I have a very stressful job, it involves fighting with werewolves) I thought I’d look at her pics, you know, just like that, for no apparent reason, So I went straight to her facebook album and was, you know, looking at her, thinking how awesome she was, and suddenly, one moment, I knew. ( The ‘one moment’ thing is a necessary ingredient in all “love stories” ), We were meant to be. Like she’d say, we have a hundred reasons for not being together, but at that one moment none of those mattered, I just knew, if its not her, there is no one else, there simply can’t be anyone else, you know that butterflies in the stomach feeling they talk about ? In stories, novels, songs, albums, sex and the city, poems,etc. ? that one. Now I really don’t have to try, I have this weird hot air bubble life that I live in, that got me convinced that we belong together, the only thing remaining is that she should hear about this and ask me to ‘cut-the-crap’ or May be Taylor Swift can write a song about us while our embrace/kiss fade away on a happy ending slide.