YAWN!

The phone rang.

"Sorry."

"You know Nate's phone rang and so did mine. I knew it. We are connected. Maybe I should marry him."
"Mate?"
"Nate!"
"What are you saying?"
"I am talking of Nate. Nate from Six Feet Under!"
"Oh! Nate..!"
"Yes, I know my blocked nose and fucked up throat makes everything sound so differ ant."
"Yes. It does."
"What do you think? Should I marry Nate? I wish I could marry that cute gay too. Darn! Why did he have to be gay?"
"WHAT are you saying?"
"Yes! I have been dreaming of this cute gay guy for the past three days. I met him months back and when I spoke to this friend of mine some three days back, she told me he was asking for my number."
"L! I can not understand you."
"Oh! Come on! He is really cute. I just want him to turn heterosexual for me."
"I am not jealous L, if you think."
"Of course you are not. You are not that type."
Why are you not, G? :(
"Just let me know when you want to break up with me, so that i am mentally prepared."
"Oh! Don't you worry that I would."
"Hmmm."
"So.....?"
"So what?"
"So, how was your day?"
"My day..... blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah...."
YAWN!
"...And then there is this match tomorrow between XYZ and JKL..."
YAWN "Yes..."
"And you of course do not know what I am talking about."
"No. But then you are talking and that is nice."
"Yeah." Given up.
"So what are you wearing?"
"How does that matter?"
"No. It does not."
"Of course it does not."
"Yes. No matter how much you may like me pouncing on you, it does not matter."
"Not like you are in the mood."
"Yes I am not but you can answer me."
"Not all questions are meant to be answered."
"Okay. I shall go and sleep now."
"Did you practice this conversation?"
"No. I do not practice any of my conversations. Why?"
Because you always sound so mechanical.
"No. Just generally."
"Oh! So you wanted to sound all hep."
"What is so hep about this?"
"I do not know. Why are you talking like this?"
"No. Just asked. Anyway, so you must be tired. Go to sleep."
"Do not make it sound like it is my fault."
"Well I am not. I mean it. Go. Sleep."
"I have had a tiring day."
"I understand and that is why I am saying Go and Sleep."
"But you are making me feel guilty about wanting to sleep."
"No. I do not mean it that way. I am serious. Go. Sleep."
"What are you wearing?"
"I do not know."
"This is the lamest anybody can get. 'I do not know' is the stupidest answer to any question."
"Hmmm."
"Okay. Good Night."
"Good Night. Sleep Well."

Phew.

This was one of our longer conversations. Lately, by which I mean some three-four months, we have just been talking too little and for some strange reason, neither of us feel the need to talk more. Ages, since we had a conversation. A random one or even a serious one. I guess we are bored.

And that to be honest is O.K.A.Y. Every relationship hits a high point, a low point and a bore point. It is bound to come when you love someone so much and know just about everything. You no longer think and guess what they must be doing right now, you know what they must be doing. You know what facial expression is going to follow after that sentence, and even complete their verbal reactions to it. They become predictable. Hence, boring.

It is rather hard to love immensely and hold interest, both, at the same time. We humans are a little too restless to handle both. I for one, definitely am.

"I am really pissed off."
"Okay. Then listen to the latest news."
"What?"
"I think I want to break up with G."
"What? Why?"
"Because I am bored."
"How boring is that."
"What?"
"You want to break up with him because you are bored in your relationship?"
"Yes. I need something more exciting. Something that is happening. There is just nothing happening in our relationship. We wake up. Walk our ways to office. Maybe talk for a minute or two again in the evening, only to say 'lets talk later' and then 'Good Night' around 11-12. It is so fucking mechanical. It is so routined. And I hate it."
"At least have an exciting reason to break up. Cheat on him!"
"You know I can not do that."
"Because you love him."
"YES!"
"Then why do you want to break up?"
"Because I am bored."
"Well, then make up a story of cheating on him."
"Hah. Like that is going to work. He will never believe me. He KNOWS me."
"Come on. He has a cock. He will get jealous."
"Well, there you go. One of the biggest advantages of having a fat girlfriend is being free of insecurities."
"That is not true."
"I know my fucking boyfriend and he knows me too. And THAT is our fucking problem."
"Well.... At least have an exciting break up."
"Exciting like what? Go. See him. Fuck him. And then break up with him."
"Yeah. That sounds fun."
"Do you realize I am in love with this guy?"
"Then do not break up."
"Then what the fuck am I supposed to do? I am bloody bored."
"And you guys do not even fight."
"Exactly."
"Lets go out this weekend."
"I am desperate. I need a vacation so bad."
"Lets seriously plan this tomorrow when we meet."
"Totally. I need to get away from allot of things."

Now, I know what a want. The reason why I burst into tears the other day in front of everyone without any reason or even an obvious emotional trigger, shocking the living daylights of all the people around me was clear. The reason why G has been lately scared of what I say, how I say it and what I exactly mean is clear. The reason why I want to break up is clear. The reason for my mood swings is clear.

I am plain unhappy with myself. I am not a mechanical person, but I am living a mechanical life. I am used to of doing what I want to. I am living the dream I always envisioned but did not see it as robotic, which is how it has become. I have no time for myself. For my expression. To stop. To feel. To realize. To feel free. To feel me.

I need some time off. I need a BREAK, sans the 'up'. And a good conversation with G. A random one. Not a practiced and planned one.

Love 'n' Peace.

Hugs.
Kisses.

Honor-esty!

"So he slept in the Drawing Room", in the most expectant voice.
"Well... No. The first day we were all watching movies in my flat mate's room, so we slept there..."
"And the next day in the Drawing Room?", now her voice getting firm.
"No. In my room. On the Floor mattress." Both being a lie. We slept on my bed after exhaustive sex for those two days.

She decided to hang up on hearing my last line and not talk.

What is with Honesty, after all? Is it difficult because it is hard to admit or is it harder to accept? Maybe both. The fact that it is so hard for others to accept that others find it difficult to admit. Probably that is the reason why most of the honest people nowadays are considered 'blunt' and sometimes even 'ill-behaved' because they do not care whether you accept it or not.

For me, honesty has always been a matter of Self Honor. Be proud of what you have done else do not do it. This being the reason why I have never believed in lying except for times when I know it would hurt my mother or my sister. Also, I know I would want to tell them as soon as possible, at the closest right time.

So, this time, there were no secrets. G was coming for the weekend. He was staying with me. He is my boyfriend, everyone knows from day one, anyway. But, my sister thinks it is difficult for a couple to stay in one room and not get physical. And that is precisely what got her upset. Despite her long lectures and explanations about how G and I should not sleep in one room because 'it is different when your friends sleep with you and when your boyfriend does', he did sleep in my room and I did not lie.

The funny thing is, I hid my previous trips to G from them. My virginity is a secret and shall remain for some time. My mother hopes I will break up with G and ultimately marry a nice Muslim boy of her choice. What the truth is is still hidden.

Am I completely being honest? Do I have the balls to face the repercussions of these truths? Is this a question to my personal principles or am I exaggerating?

What makes people uncomfortable with letting out truth at any point of time to anybody, is that you will not be comfortable taking it in. Honesty, in actuality is as easy as you make it. But then how far does comfort decide the extent of honesty? I may let out all that I want to on this Blog, yet my identity remains in the dark and I am not even comfortable letting it out.

Funny how honesty plays around with you making you look like a big jerk in any situation, whether it is where you are lying or one where you are 'blunt' or just calculating how much is to be let out. Honesty is a bitch! And Honor? Fuck it!

P.S. - This had to be a post about G and his beautiful short trip to see me, but unfortunately things do not go the way you plan them. Sometimes you are thinking of something and something else would fuck up your mind to the extent of overtaking your original emotions that were meant to be expressed.