Saturday, April 2, 2011

Unfortunate Story.

I think I have become inarticulate. That really isn't that big a problem, usually. But when one has this growing burning sensation that seems to be coming out of the depth of one's soul, it's a fucking tragedy!

"Your dad issues are sexy", I was told yesterday. I just laughed. 
They were anything but sexy, I thought.
Later in the day I was made to realize that I am obsessive about my father. I didn't laugh.
It isn't entirely false, I thought.

It explains so fucking much!!
And I would have written better; but I have become inarticulate, remember?
I could hardly breathe. I think my deepest drawn fear is to turn into him.. or into any of his forms. Oh yes, he has forms. Forms that have always been out to get me; those that have been out to hurt me; those that have bred negativity over everything else; forms that re-establish the lack of a father figure in my life...
See! I am obsessive about him. I don't think I hate him, though. I thought in all these years when his physical presence in my life was in the form of his mental absence, his sheer existence would seize to matter. Clearly, I am being proved wrong. 
But we're convenient, like that. We don't talk. We don't see the need to. And that works.
But obsessive? The mere thought is shattering. It's confusing, like colour.

I am so much more calmer than I was just 24hours back. 
Obviously, in my own twisted way, I sought closure;
in pastures much forbidden, in lands much distant, in ideas much unacknowledged, in ages much older.

So, I called an old friend last night and met him today.

I met Rocky today.
We met after ages today.
I went to sleep today, fitting close against him, like the last piece of a puzzle.
I stroke his hair to annoy him as he made pasta for me.
We spoke about the Universe, nothingness, cosmos and all that in between.
I went to sleep today, fitting close against him, like the last piece of a puzzle.
I cried a little. We played random games.
We spoke about his wife and kids.
I went to sleep today fitting close against him, like the last piece of a puzzle.
The man is going to be special to me for always and beyond;
the greatest father, teacher, an Encyclopedia of grey matter;
My mentor. My confidante.
My world was monochrome again, minus the chaos of the colour.

Status-Of-The-Sought-Closure : Confusing.

My dad issues are sexy, apparently. Some see it as my glory.
That is the Unfortunate Story.

5 comments:

  1. I so totally relate to this. :O

    Oh and P.S- started following you yday and i think your blog is great.
    Stay Awesome. (:
    xoxo

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  2. Your proses are like poetry.
    Beautiful. Just plain beautiful. First time here, I am sure to come back.

    ReplyDelete
  3. U? Inarticulate? Never.

    ur lucky to have found a confidante in ur mentor.

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  4. @all - you guys are such nice people :):P

    ReplyDelete

From Drafts

I sometimes miss being in unrequited love to text them to overthink their text to romanticize every moment to actually dream about them...