I had a crush.
I had a crush. Yes, I used Stare her ,of course, the positive one, sitting on the last bench of the class.
She used to talk to her boyfriend each day, each hour, each second. They would be laughing, smiling, talking, gossiping , just as normal couples. And I, I used to sit at the last benches, turning my head towards her Aura, and could only feel as I saw her blushing and smiling . I obtained the same pleasure in contrast to the person obtaining pleasure on their first kiss.
I was never jealous of her boyfriend. Never did I care for him. I was always busy, adoring her, loving her with feelings of my heart. I was that busy appreciating her beauty, I sometimes missed lectures in the classes. And why not, she had those pair of eyes, bright, shining and could hypnotize from a far.
I wrote poems, stories, used Metaphors, personification and lots of figures of speech, just to impress her.
It was like, if I write poems, stories, and blah blah, she would be flattered after seeing those. And one day, she’ll approach me and say, “Ooh My dear Mishra, You write so good. You’re magical. And I wanted to say, I love you Mishra”. Ooh Fcuk. That seems to be so fascinating although too far away from reality. The duffer me, the loser me. If I ever meet the past versions of myself, I would love to punch him on the face and shout, “Fcuk you, loser!!”
ALAS, THINGS CAN’T BE CHANGED.
And one fine day, I went close to her and said, “I love you”. Yeah, neither did I say it in sweet tone nor did I kneel one leg with a flower. It was inside the campus after the classes were over.
Are you kidding me?
No. I just love you. That’s what I wanted to say.
“What!! You know, I’ve a boyfriend ”, replied she.
“I know, Still wanted to express and so did it”, said me. And I rode the bicycle and went to my lodge.
My heart ached a bit but later on, I was relaxed. It felt as a lot of burden was evacuated from me. I was feeling good.
But still, It wasn’t like I left checking her.
I even got her number from my friend. I texted her on WhatsApp. I was blocked. I texted her on messenger, pleading to block me. The immature me and there were many such long ass stories Now when I remember those moments, I feel how fucked was I. If today that would be the case, I would have myself blocked her, before she could have done it.
Anyway, this happened at regular intervals, quite frequent. The block and me pleading to unblock.
Irritated with myself, I blocked her. And I was happy.
At the present time, she’s in my WhatsApp. Unblocked.
Not my girlfriend, though just as a friend. Neither she feels anything for me nor I do feel. And I’m glad but at the same time I miss my writings. Actually, I want to write Romance but I’m pretty fucked cause I don’t know what to write. This piece of writing was from a past post which I had posted on Quora, just made little changes and it’s good to go.