She was reading something. We were in a library surrounded by books. I was glad she was there. Finally, there was a girl who loved literature. She was into Camus and Beckett; would you believe it? I mean she belched at the mention of glittering vampires and impossibly romantic love stories just as my dream girl would have done.
I could imagine her narrating my favorite story. It was the uncensored version of a famous fairy tale where the shrewd elf was tricked and raped by the shepherd’s little girl. Throughout the story, the little girl was portrayed as a simpleton. Itwas only at the end the plot twist was revealed. It boiled my blood how the modern version was a hunky-dory retelling with the elf turning into a handsome prince marrying the village girl. Talk about making things palatable!
“You should be in dramatics. You read lines with emotion”, I told her.
She said something but I didn’t quite catch it. I was busy watching her small red lips curl into a smile.
I could tell she liked me.
I was sitting cross-legged on my writing table when my phone beeped. However, I didn’t care much because she was in the room too. She was singing a song I had never heard before. Great, I thought to myself, now I will think of her whenever I will hear this tune.
It was 9 a.m. and I could see sunlight filtering through my window and landing right on her. She was wearing a silver satin dress that she had worn on the party last night. It was glowing because of the golden beams that were reflecting off the fabric’s surface.
I was beginning to fall for her.
I was lying on the sand. The moon must have been wildbecausethe waves were creating a havoc. Yet I could see the force of water die down as it touched the tips of my bare feet. I felt as if I was part of a best-selling fiction. She was lying right beside me, whispering mesmerizing poetry into my ears.
This relationship was definitely progressing.
She was going for a coffee with her otherguy friend, Z. She said she had a surprise for me. Maybe she wanted me to be her boyfriend. Was she asking Z for advice before making that decision? I thought. He would tell her I am a nice guy,I smiled.
I was definitely in love with her.
Things were going great and we’d been together by nowif only reality had not arrived from the foreign lands of my dreams. It was back from its vacations.Urgh.It was knocking on the door of my sanityincessantly. I had to answer.
Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday
“You should be in dramatics. You read lines with emotion”, I had told her on Monday.
“Dude, what the hell? This is just a Facebookpost. You gotta chill,” she had said while laughing.
We were sitting with 5 other people. It was a library alright but our college library. Love has the power to alter a few imperfections.
There was a Tuesday song for sure but…
“Listen to this guys:
#myfavoritenumber #myfavoritesinger #themusiclegend”
She had shared her favorite song on our WhatsApp group. She had been talking about it all night at the party. She had promised to share it on the group, of which I was also a part. Just not the onlypart though.
We had our English Literature class onWednesday. She had volunteered to read “I saw from the Beach” by Thomas Moore. It was broad daylight. The whole class was her audience but I was the only one who was listening. Listening too much, I presume, and imagining even more.
On Thursdayshe was successful in giving us a surprise. I was shocked to the point of devastation.
“Z and I are dating”, she had told us. The two of them were bursting with laughter.
Today is Friday:
I am going home. Alone. I see a girl waving at me. What does she want? I think, probably waving at someone behind me.
Somewhere a villain will trick a sweetgirl. Not all fairytales have to be unrealistic.
It is high time I should stop blowing things out of proportion.