The human heart is a scary part in fact 'Cause I could break you and you could break me back Though my head says just forget it You’ll get hurt and you’ll regret it Ask me now and I won’t hesitate
So many cards that never leave the deck There comes a time when you have to place your bets And I’ve never been a gambling man But if you want to see my hand Ask me now and I won’t hesitate
'Cause I'm fearful of heights and you take me higher What came with you was a view to admire I’ve always been the kind to contemplate But you like the kind that don’t hesitate
Excuse me while I fall for you Excuse me while I fall for you
I thought about it long and hard today I realized I’m standing in our way Usually my judgement’s better But with your blue eyes, hey whatever Ask me now and I won’t hesitate Ask me now and I won’t hesitate
Excuse me while I fall for you Excuse me while I fall for you
People. Where do I start with these? People are great. People are stupid. People are just people. They love, they hate, and they become your friends.
I have over 600 friends on facebook and I know each and every one of them. I believe I’m acquainted with each one is a better use of terminology. Knowing implies you have some sort of knowledge of another person as you would of John F. Kennedy or Rose Parks, or even your own best friend. Quiet frankly, I have a hard time believing that even half of the people on this site “know” me as a person, a real person.
Sometimes I sit and I stare at the number. It fluctuates daily and currently ends up being somewhere between 652 people on a good day and 634 people on a bad day.
Regardless, who are these 600 some odd people? They each have lives, each have difficulties, each see joy at the start of each day and sometimes they pain. I don’t know their problems and they don’t know mine but their feelings are, nonetheless, valid to some, which are their own close group of friends.
I have top friends though its not formerly stated anywhere nor does it need to be. It’s the people who check my page on a daily and leave me “some cyber love” in a comment, or post a picture, make me a video, show some sign that they we’re there, etc. It’s those people who are filled with the positive energy. Those who tell me “get well” when I’m sick and those who “just dropped in to say hello” every once in a while, those who relate to my statuses throughout the day or leave videos saying goodnight.
Then there are those who use this type of tool to mock, to creep, to have something to talk about, to always have something to say. They look at everything and anything as if they are on a forensics team researching a crime scene. They pluck each part of a profile out and bag it like evidence. They examine my life as if it were something of real value to them, something essential to their being that without it they would have no real passion in life. In a mature world, I would imagine that their own lives had enough issues that they wouldn’t need to look so keenly into mine. However, I was wrong. People of all ages from gossiping grandma’s to the twelve year old children who claim they are grown come hither to feast their eyes on nothing more than a girl turned woman overnight. A girl who sips on her chai latte surrounded by the thin smoke of incense from her morningprayers and blogs about her own trials & tribulations in the silence of a stormy and foggy San Francisco morning.
I let you into my world through my blog. My pictures flicker vividly and paint the scene and I leave everything uncensored, unblocked. And your eyes judge things that exist in your mind as pure fictitious fun. I’m sorry you view my life as you would a Perez Hilton site or a teen magazine on a shelf waiting for preteen eager eyes to purchase. But my life isn’t here for your judgement. It’s here for those close to me like kin to share their thoughts and emotions. For us to share our memories without your involvement. So go on and die behind your computer screen, throw up over your keyboards, and watch as I thrive & you suffer in your worthless insolence.
About a year ago I closed the book on Chapter 4. I walked out on a three year relationship without shedding a single tear. We were high school sweethearts that had been dead for a while and grew further and further apart every day we were together. By the time it was over it seemed like the world at large was shocked and I was the one who walked away completely heartless. I started the story head over heels and the deeper I got the less and less I had left of myself, my real self. Commitment is the only thing I was after for a long while and then I ran from it. Even now it’s the only thing I want most, yet it’s hard for me to get a grip on. The problem seems to be that I find myself making exceptions to my own rules. I squeeze each of them into the curved edges of the puzzle and try to make them fit. I begin to write our story only to realize it doesn’t belong with the ending. They aren’t the piece to my puzzle. They just simply aren’t the one. I’ve dealt with a long line of relationships. Those that were immature, long distance, abusive, multiethnic, short and sweet, long and hard and even those based purely on adulterated fun. I’ve dated the jocks, the nerds, the gangsters and artists. I’ve been the cheater and have been cheated on. I’ve had to chose between two. I’ve fallen in and out of love and back in again and each time my main goal –like so many others- is finding the perfect fit, the Mr. Right. Does this even exist for everyone? Or is it a figment of our imaginations? Our false hope that we hold on to? The person we try to hold out for? We’re constantly searching for this soul mate so our lives can be filled with perfection and bliss- like the movies, we want it to be a complete Hollywood ending, a Taylor Swift love story. Being Indian it seems we’ve even set a time & age limit for “love.” Deep down we know exactly what we want. We build up our perfect idea of “the one” and we hunt for someone who fits the description. Time and time again, through trial & error, we are let down. We all uniformly want to achieve happiness but have different ways of getting there and different beliefs of what will make us happy. We all have expectations of who we want in our lives or who we want to share our lives with. We don’t want cheaters or liars or those who defy our trust. We want unconditional love, passion, and truth. We want someone who is on the same page and whose willing to travel through the book together beside us, page by page, chapter by chapter until the end. Sometimes a person lands on the page and to fill the void within us we build them up to be the perfect one we hope they can become. Pages down the line they aren’t the people we had built them up to be and they bail to find their own happy ending, in their own stories, because they are writers too. So we just shut that book, burn it & start over, begin a new page. The search continues… Sometimes it just so happens that you don’t have to go looking. It comes to you when you least expect it. It lands on your plate. A white slip of paper with miniscule etchings that you cherish forever. It’s nothing remotely close to perfect but it’s only just begun. I’m not trying to squeeze anyone into my jigsaw anymore, I’ll let him fit into it on his own. I don’t keep my hopes up because I don’t want to be let down in case the puzzle piece belongs in some else’s book. I don’t know what will come of this & I don’t want to make it out to be something that it’s not. What I do know I’m too afraid to even say out loud. All I can really reveal is that I like having you here. So hopefully you don’t go away too soon & I can scribble you a few more lines…
Absence makes the heart grow fonder…-W. Shakespeare