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Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Confessions of a bitch

I’ve had insomnia for the last month. I’ve been so disgustingly unhealthy and negligent at a time I really can’t afford to. So in case this is the spiral after which I eventually fall into a coma and die of some mysterious undiagnosed-till-too-late complication (heh), I hereby submit my confession.

Tariq: you’re mentioned first, because I think you deserve some kind of award for your absolute steadfastness. Now that I know more of the world, now that I know more about people, I understand that such dedication is quite unusual. If I can calculate correctly, you seemed to have liked me straight from class 3 to 2nd year A levels. I don’t know if that’s because you’re just the type of guy who prefers to be in love with the idea of someone, or maybe its just because you knew me enough to sense that even if I did like you back (I did, briefly, class 5, when we were sitting next to each other), my friends would gag and bind me and stuff me in the nearest trunk till I stopped being a danger to my social standing. However, I will admit to a strong streak of protectiveness I always felt towards you despite my friends, and there was a time (yes, grade 5) where I could have taken out a shotgun, blown out the brains of that Urdu teacher, and then kissed you senseless because she made fun of your stammer. Anyway. Maybe you were better off just liking me from afar. Good luck wherever you are. If it helps, I’m going to die a frustrated lonely dried up old hag stuck alone in my own personal hell. If I was a cat person, I would have 5 cats and they’d probably eat my body before the parents found my remains weeks later.

Ali S: from your class-6-to-current-date semi crush on me, and your denial of it, its been amusing knowing you. I must confess, our stilted msn conversations are extremely painful, and I cringe at your every attempt to flirt with me. No I am not encouraging you. Its been a decade. If it had to happen, it would have. Really. Just give up, show me some attitude and get some self respect back. Don’t come to my funeral, in fact, go spit on my grave. For Gods sake man, show some gumption.

Zeeshan: because I am brutally honest with myself, I will admit that we both have our issues, and we were just not meant to be, no matter how much we both wanted. I have come to peace with it, buried our past despite your attempts to resurrect it. I have also buried you, unfortunately only symbolically. I wish I had just left your sorry ass at CC, I wish I had told you more home truths that day instead of hanging up knowing I would never ever talk to you again. While my problem might have been that I expected you to become the man I though you could be, I have to confess that I tried to convince myself that your problem was that you were too young. I was wrong. Our younger selves are stronger, purer, more rigid, idealistic, stupid, callow versions of our older selves. You have no foundations of morality, you have no sense of justice, right or wrong, and no matter how many large dramatic claims you make, they are as empty as your threats, promises and your pathetic tighty whitey underpants.
(yes, along with every other phoney ‘cool’ thing you force yourself to be, you are NOT a CK boxer person, give up and submit to your true self).

T: we have a history don’t we? I’ve known you since I was 6, and shit, that’s a bloody long time. I’m sorry you hate me, I’m sorry we’re not in touch. We were good buddies in the middle, I miss walking into a party and taking for granted that we would be dancing together the whole evening. I miss knowing you’d be my back up date no matter what, that you would be my group partner no matter how aggravating we found each other. I cringe every time your girlfriends walk all over you with their pointy stiletto’s and leave you lying bloody, broken and pathetic on the floor. I hope the last two dire misfortunes have not driven you to suicide, that you have finally grown a thicker skin, finally grown better taste in women, and are finally working hard to realize the potential you so badly need to counter the terrible hand life has dealt you. I have to confess that only my little brother has managed to really piss the shit out of me as much as you have. That’s an honor. Really. Good luck where ever you are and in what ever you choose to become.

H: I am mentioning you here even though you really don’t deserve it. I confess that being the object of such intense adoration was frightening, but I’m human and I admit (albeit on my deathbed) that I was flattered by how I was the absolute focus of your extremely unhealthy obsession. We had fun, and I cannot forgive you pretending to be my friend only so you could guilt trip me into liking you back. That was low, even for you. but anyway, I hope your burn scars heal, and that you stop behaving like an awkward child and just come out and act less gangly and pretentious if you ever run into me. I will be kind, and not mention the incidents where you took to following me around campus, and the hours of painful phone conversations you made me suffer through. Or the time that you were extremely thrilled that I got drunk and spent the night with you guys at the apartment. I can magnanimously forgive you for all that, we were kind of vaguely friends once upon a time.

To my ex-stalker: well I know you’re a total freak, and that you are legendary for your skills of jacking off five times a day (which is STILL a *distressing* fact to know). I also know that you were stalking a different girl every quarter, and that you moved onto my poor friend after me. But I must confess it was a hilarious experience while it lasted. From the first stages where you were pretty much under the radar, when you felt up my advanced programming techniques partner Bilal in the advent of trying to “help” us with the assignment, to the final stages when you finally cornered me in the dark isolated hallway on campus and “asked me out to dinner” (I swear, you scared the crap out of me so badly that you made me forget all my self defense classes, all my heroics, all my false bravado on how I’m a kick ass kinda chick). There was also that point in the middle when everyone but nausheen knew about you, and she actually invited you to have pizza with her alone in the cafeteria because she can’t stand seeing people eating alone. Haha. She was so repulsed after she saw some of your better moments that she had nightmares about you for weeks. haha. I continue to look back at the events as hilarious, and pretty unique. May you whack away to some poor other chick who will probably be as repulsed by you as me and all other coeds.

8 comments:

BaptizedLucifer said...

whoa. why do they all end up being so lame? :-/

dude, i can only pray that you get well and... live life... whatever thats supposed to mean...never figured how life should be lived anyway... the more u live it.. the more u hurt yoself.. blah..

these confessions ended abruptly tho.. writing from you death bed i'd expect their to be more influential ppl to confess about than 'the boys'... but dang i guess... what really moulds our emotional standing is all that opposite sex in our lives.. or something.. i need sleep...

naked feet said...

(1) why do guys end up being lame?

because most men ARE lame (sorry - keyword being MOST.. that excludes any guy reading this of course).. and so sample of men i've met simply reflects the probability of the population :D

(2) if you're trying to read any meaning into WHY i randomly decided to mention the randomest of boys i haven't thought about in years.. well... like i said.. i hadn't slept :).. it does strange things to you.. it really does

(3)not on my death bed yet :)
if i was i wouldn't be writing in my blog :)

demoncrat said...

this piece reminds me of Salinger's Holden in "The Catcher in the Rye".

Phitaymaun said...

Talk about beating one's self up! YOu've done a better job in one post than i did on my entire blog. But i hope you feel better now, its quite a load off to admit where who went wrong for all the world to know, and i'm sure all the boys you mentioned will be thrilled at being remembered so vividly. Men may be lame, hell they are, but you just did a number of em one hell of a favor. Now go and write the reaction of such a post on those lil men you you really cared about. Write about the sinking hearts and the stifled tears and the worried girlfreinds in the now who have no clue as to why 'thier' men are sitting at thier 'puters readin white on blue with misty eyes. Cept the stalker dude ofcourse... i hope you have a good life insurance policy.

psnob said...

mmm...stuff that sounds way too familiar.
eerily.

there's no one in there that can be me is there? :)

Ent said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Ent said...

i would feel good =D
besides wishes are like prayers. each one you dont get on earth, you can cash in in paradise

Ent said...

Good God! Can;t really say much else. Besides, snobby seems to actually figure in your drama. God!
hmmm, I have to talk to her about this.