Wordspill

I will read Gujarati after this. I swear.

Of course, I have no choice. I have an exam on Friday and a report/exam tomorrow but again, for matters concerning my sanity, I have to write (after umpteen days, finally).

If you wanted our own version of Why We Broke Up, I’m sorry to disappoint you but really, I don’t have time for that. But, if you badly want the story, here it goes:

I was selfish and more importantly not ready. You were a  jerk, and undeniably, (except for you of course) you were abusive. But of course I learned to appreciate you and your efforts. You putting up to my almost-everyday-pms-vibes was definitely something. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you did hurt me physically. It doesn’t change the fact that I would never be able to accept you again completely for doing that. I wanted you to be gone from my life just because I didn’t want to deal with that sort of bullshit. You were clinging. I started to cling as well, yes. You got me used to things, how on earth was I not supposed to cling?

So we ended up hurting each other more. And I grew tired. And then I fell out.

So that’s what happened, not very much like your story involving a third party or whatsoever.

* * *

Congratulations, you landed another spot in my blog. But this isn’t about you. This is about me, and most probably someone else but then let’s keep it about me because again, I don’t have that much time to comprehend the workings of someone else’s brain.

I probably should stop thinking about where this is going. It’s just that sometimes, we all want a clear definition, at least a label, or perhaps an explanation of why we act as such. We never did get there. Almost. But still, not there.

I’m tired of over-analyzing things so I decided to just go with the flow. I realized, (might be wrong but how would I know? You never explained so I resorted to interpreting — not much of a good idea) I’m done with all the drama. I’m supposed to be dealing with more important matters i.e. my eight exams, one report, and two papers, yes.

* * *

Attachment. Big word. I thought that was it but then, I came to realize that it was more of a follow through. I have no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing really. It sounds bad, coming from someone else’s perspective. It sounds insincere. But it doesn’t matter, right? What matters is what we think.

Momentum? Inertia? My bad, I don’t remember my physics but you get it, right? If, after recovery, we get to somewhere, then so be it. I decided to not take things that seriously because it’s fucking not healthy to overthink before sleeping — assuming I’d be sleeping. (And obviously, it distracts me, making my grades suffer, ugh).

No, actually, the main reason is because I’m assuming that you’re not going to change. That I’d have to play along.

* * *

Hello me, why even write about this. I mean seriously…

What are we? I mean, really?

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