Moments


You know, sometimes I do wonder whether I pushed you away from me. Whether I had a chance to tell you how I feel about you but didn’t, because it’s ‘not nice for a girl to appear needy’. I have this overwhelming and possibly damaging sense of pride. I did not want to be rejected. I did not want to appear desperate. I did not want you to think that I’m totally crazy about you which I totally was. And also you had a complicated messy relationship with a girl which was falling apart at the seams. I think her tears and your conscience kept gluing it together. I didn’t want to be involved in any of that either. I didn’t want to be cursed by a good girl for taking her man away when she was trying so hard to keep him. No I couldn’t do that to her. I also didn’t know what you were doing. Did you want me only as a distraction? For some fun? And when things smoothen out between the two of you, you can pretend I never existed? I was so confused.

But I also revelled in the tiniest, most insignificant of moments where we were alone and you would do something so simple but it would make my day. Like that time when you told one of our friends to move seats so that you can come sit next to me. And then you proceeded to put your arm over my shoulder. Harmless and super friendly. But also, amazing for me since here I was crushing so hard on you and you actually forcefully sat next to me and put your arm across my shoulder and pulled me close (omggg). God knows I wanted so much to snuggle against you but I resisted. It was so special to me cause no guy I ever liked has done such a thing. Also smearing my face with ice cream on my birthday. No guy has done that and I found it to be extremely cute. I was melting inside faster than the ice cream on my face but oh well I pretended to be slightly annoyed. I revelled in those tiniest of moments. Because I never had them before. Dating or flirting was never strong points of mine. I’ve never dated. It is so difficult with my disability to find a guy who’d be willing to go out with me in this country. So you paying special attention to me was so special for me. When you showed me a thumbnail of a hot picture of yours that I didn’t actually recognise, and you asked me whether I’d like to go out with that guy (you) I said yes. Then you showed me the actual pic and I mocked you saying you photoshopped yourself. I don’t know. Later that was an oh my god moment for me. Like oh my god did he ask me out? The next day you showed me the same thumbnail and I ignored it. I don’t know. What the hell were we both doing? All I know is that those moments meant so much to me. Like when you called me beautiful. But if I do know anything, it’s that it’s too late now. For me. For both of us.

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Memories of 14 February


I don’t believe in the concept of valentines day. At least, I believe that I don’t believe in it. That being said, I’ve harboured some sort of crazy hope that my crushes of yesteryear would make some sort of move on me on February 14 for as long as I remember. Let’s say for example that in 2007 I had a crush on guy X, then depending on when started crushing on him I’d be hoping that he’d make a move on me and finally reveal his true feelings for me on 14 February 2007 or 2008. If the crush continues into the next year, it’s the same. Perhaps even more intensfied in my hope. As usual nothing happens. It was the same in 2007 with guy X, same in 2010 with guy Y, same with guy Z in 2012. I must also say that I didn’t harbour a completely invalid wish. All of these guys were ones who’d expressed some sort of interest in me. So you could say I had reason to hope. I fervently check my phone, my Facebook in hopes of finding at least a wish from them. But nope. Nada. This year however, it was different. I’ve had a crush on the same colleague since end of 2013 and I’m moving away from it now. It would help expedite things if he didn’t have such a cute smile and an even cuter butt! 😉 But oh well! This year I didn’t expect him to do anything at all. And of course, he didn’t. I actually did not remember that it was valentines today till I saw my twitter flooded with posts about where to have the best date tonight and how to survive this day if you’re single. So I’ve been thinking, have I finally grown up? Or am I finally accepting that if something is meant to happen, it somehow will? Or have I become hopeless?

Reading YA novels in your late twenties


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Lately I’ve been reading a lot of young adult novels. I certainly didn’t read that many YA novels when I actually was a young adult. I think it all began with finding out about The Fault in Our Stars sometime in the middle of last year. I actually do not remember how I stumbled upon it but I think it had something to do with a post on Buzzfeed.

Being 25 then, I was initially skeptical. I downloaded the pdf version and began reading, already rolling my eyes before I even got to the first page. For all I knew, this would be a sappy, mushy, hopelessly-in-love love story filled with the usual teenage issues of struggling to fit in, self-esteem and finding someone who, despite your every flaw, sees you for who you really are and accepts you with (muscular) arms wide open.

Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised. Now I knew this story was about two kids who had cancer. But I was generalizing TFIOS. It didn’t make any sense as to why I’d do that, but I did it anyway. Sorry, John Green. I can safely tell you that you are now one of my very few favourite authors.

As I read through the book, I found myself aching for a love like Augustus and Hazel’s. I felt a gaping hole within myself when I read the part where they are in a restaurant and Augustus says “I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”  And the instance where Hazel tries to get Augustus out of a ditch, covered in vomit and not caring at all that his vomit might get on her clothes or being grossed out by it was one of many which made me tear up and yearn for the love I never had and the man that will never come to be, the type of man who will clean up your sick after you. I’ve never had that type of love, or any love for that matter. And I’ve always been single. I’ve never had late night text messages saying I miss you. I’ve never fallen asleep in the arms of someone who wouldn’t mind my drool on his shoulder. I’ve never been surprised on a birthday, or you know, the best kind, surprised out of the blue over nothing by a guy. I’ve not had life changing, deep, meaningful conversations with a man who may or may not end up being my husband. Neither have I held hands with someone and felt so safe and comforted for no reason just by that gesture. See, I crave these things. Because I’ve never felt them. I’ve never experienced them. I guess a girl with Cerebral Palsy is too much to handle.

And only through John Green’s writing did I finally experience them. I lived and breathed the essense of every miniscule emotion felt by Augustus and Hazel, Quentin and Margo, Alaska and Pudge and Colin and his Katherines and then Lindsey.

I had a sense of what I was missing out on right now and what I’ve missed as a teenager in terms of a relationship but I did not know what I was actually missing out on till I read these stories by Green. These miniscule, seemingly insignificant emotions and moments that change your life without even appearing to do so, and hit you so deep in the gut that you actually only become aware of it sometime later, were what I had been and am missing out on.

In An Abundance of Katherines, Colin tells us that “nothing was happening but everything was thick with mattering” and Lindsey tells us that some moments are so pure that it becomes nothing and everything at the same time, are some things I’ve gone through myself.

You see, last year the guy I like attempted to kiss my hand out of the blue in a crowded bar (he wasn’t at all drunk) and this seemingly insignificant moment, certainly forgettable was at the same time nothing and everything, and nothing was happening (because I pulled my hand away) but everything was thick with mattering (because I’ve never been kissed and because this was the closest a guy I liked had gotten to me physically). Everything happened and was over in less than five seconds. But it was everything to me.

For some, this might be laughable. So he tried to kiss your hand. So what? He’s just a guy. Guys do that. It probably didn’t mean anything. I’ve had friends tell me so. Because, in their love lives, far better and grander things have happened. Things that took their breath away and made them question the depths of love to which humans can go to. Fireworks, butterflies in belly and soulmate moments and what not.

So a guy kissing your hand? Psh! It’s nothing. Hell, even he might be feeling the same for all I know, because I got spectacularly friend-zoned a while later. But it’s everything to me. And it will continue to matter, simply because what happened in itself was special.

It has always bugged me as to why I’m in my late twenties and yet, so into reading YA novels, particularly John Green ones. Sure you don’t have to be of any particular age to enjoy a good book. But it bugged me.

And now I know. John Green is all about the tiniest emotions that eventually play out on a grand scale. In his novels, it’s the littlest of things that end up being the most significant. And these incidents, situations and emotions are normal day to day ones. In an Abundance of Katherines Colin says “I was just thinking out loud” and Lindsey says “Those are the people you like. The people you can think out loud in front of.”

John Green made me experience what I never had. And it was done in the simplest of ways. Felt in the deepest possible way. And that, I realize, is why I love YA novels, particularly those by John Green. Because I get to experience what I never could as a teenager and what it’s like feel love at its most purest.

Being mean to you


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Do you remember one day in class, when you sat next me and we were at the most boring lecture of our lives, and maybe we flirted? I don’t know for sure cause I’ve stopped interpreting signs from guys who seem interested in me, but it sure felt like you were flirting and that I too may have flirted back. You were wearing a purple t-shirt with a cartoon print on it and let me tell you, you looked completely adorable. You looked like a teenaged kid with your uncombed hair and clean shave. And that t-shirt made me want to just hold you in my arms. So cute. I was stealing glances at you as best as I could, given the fact that you were right next to me and to even steal a glance at you I had to turn my head in a very inconspicuous way. We laughed a lot that day. You made me giggle like a little girl. That’s another thing I love about you. Most of the time you just draw me to you with your quiet intensity but when you make me laugh, I feel like a little girl.

Ok I do not remember where I was heading with this post. Let’s see now. Yes, so we laughed a lot and presumably flirted that day. And then several days later you sat about two seats away from me. Then someone commented that you wore the same thing last week, the day that we flirted, and that you looked good in it. No it wasn’t the cutesy purple t-shirt, it was something else you were wearing. So you lean towards me and ask me whether I remember what you were wearing that day. Now, of course I do. You looked super cute that day. But I decided that I shouldn’t show you that I remember that. So I said I had no idea and how on earth am I supposed to remember what you wore when you couldn’t remember it yourself. I was quite loud. Your face twisted and you just looked away. I should’ve stopped there but I didn’t. I went on to add that you probably have only a few items of clothing because you wear the same things repeatedly. This was a lame, lame attempt at a joke which I thought would make you realize that I wasn’t being rude before. But it worsened the situation. Your face crumpled and you just stared at your shoes for quite sometime. I instantly regretted it and wanted to let you know how sorry I was but the damage was done. You even told me once that I’m repeatedly mean to you and that you’re offended by it. Of course, you have every right to be.

Why am I so mean to you? Why am I so afraid that you will find out I like you? Is it because you have an on again, off again relationship with her and I don’t want to be involved in that complicated situation? Is it my overriding pride which prevents me from appearing to like you? Do I not want to give you the satisfaction of learning that yet another girl likes you? But that’s BS isn’t it? What’s wrong with that? I think it’s because I’m so afraid of you discovering I like you a lot because I’m terrified of rejection. I don’t want to see you drift away from me and let our friendship slowly die. If you start distancing yourself from me I’d probably guess the reason, and that reason is too much for me to handle. I’d assume it’s because I have CP you are hesitant. Because you have shown an interest in me and even made a move on me once. Despite all of this, if you move away, I would be dealing with a lot of rejection. I think I’m also mean to you because it’s a lame attempt on my part to try and convince myself that I don’t like you as much as my heart tells me that I do.

Even just yesterday, when you told me you were sick I conveniently ignored it without making a comment and I later realized that I was doing it subconsciously. I wasn’t even aware of doing it. What harm could a kind word have done? Why couldn’t I have told you to at least get well soon? I wish I had though, I really do.

I’m so sorry okay? You’re a really sweet guy and you do not deserve my meanness. I just don’t know how else to handle this situation.

Boys and CP


I have always wondered, especially as of late, why I’m still single. I’m a mature, fairly intelligent girl with a decent face, a good education and a well-paying job in a highly recognized organization. So why does no one seem to want to be with me? I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never even been asked out. Yet certain people I know with similar or worse disabilities than cerebral palsy seem to be doing alright. So why in my twenty-five years of existence have I never been the girlfriend of someone?

-Is it because you are afraid of having to look after me?
-Or am I just not hot enough?
-Do you think I’ll be too much of a responsibility?
-Are you afraid of being judged for choosing me?
-Are you just lazy to give that obvious extra effort required to maintain a relationship with a disabled girl?
-Do you think I will be a roadblock to you enjoying life?
-Or do you think there will be just too much family drama involved that it’s just best to not go out with me?
– Am I not wife material?
-Are you unable to picture a meaningful future with me?
-So it’s best to not start something that you cannot finish?
-Are you embarrassed by me?

What is it really? Why have none of you guys ever wanted a relationship with me?

I’m just curious.