Whimsical Perfection

12. Indecisive

"To die, to sleep - to sleep,
Perchance to dream - ay there's the rub,
For in this sleep of death
What dreams may come"
                     —Hamlet, Hamlet

~♤ ▪︎ ♤ ▪︎ ♤~

Two days later, when we met again, a spark flared in his eyes as he registered my frame walking towards him, but fortunately, he remained silent and focused on his work. This would be the only thing I would always admire about him – he was extremely professional. This was also the only similarity in me that I could admit proudly.

The rest of the day too, was spent without any awkward silences or jabs. Turns out he wasn't as petty or vindictive as I thought he would be. He was just like an enigma, making me go in circles trying to figure him out, but I failed every single time. Was he cold and ruthless, or was he just unbothered? Was he arrogant, or warm? What was it that he wanted from me? There was no clear answer to any of these questions as they reeled in my mind over and over, making me bump into someone.

"What the fu– oh my God!" I exclaimed as I realized that our collision had me spilling my coffee all over a woman.

The weather was exceptionally windy and cold today, so was my coffee. It was partly her fault too, but I apologized to her first.

"I'm incredibly sorry, I wasn't looking this way."

At my apology, she looked up to meet my eyes, and I almost staggered at the contempt in her brown eyes. She was a beautiful young woman with afro cut hair and a slender, model-like body. Dressed in a simple sports bra and yoga pants, she still managed to look gorgeous. Pushing back my envy at the sight of her perfect body, I tried to keep my expression neutral, so as to not anger her further.

"You weren't looking? Why, did all those curves on your body block your line of sight too? I thought that was only for the others? You've made me so bloody cold on this morning, and that's all you have to say? Bloody gormless bitch."

I was so stunned by her choice of words that I could only watch silently as she walked away, leaving me standing aimlessly in the middle of a busy street, with people bustling by me. But I paid no heed. All I could listen to right now, were the words she had spoken to me. Curves. Block. Gormless bitch.  Now that was a new one. Very innovative.

It was the same shit. Every time. So what if I was.... curvy? So what if I wasn't like them? So what if I was different? I suddenly remembered the time I had actually asked this question. Fat tears running down my chubby cheeks, I had helplessly asked them, for them to understand me. For them to realize I was a human too. For them to realize that I too got hurt. For them to realize that what they were doing wasn't right.

Turns out they already knew all along. They knew they were fucking me up, and pushing me up an invisible cliff, where I wouldn't be able to last long. It was their favorite pastime, to find new toys to play with whenever they got bored. And apparently, my weight issues were entertaining.

That's just how life works. People think they definitely have to step on others to succeed, or to inflate their ego, and thus, they target the biggest insecurities and points of vulnerability in others. It strokes their ego when they come to know they're better in that department, and making their enemy feel like shit is just cherry on the cake.

"Scar, what are you doing standing here like an idiot?"

I vaguely heard someone calling out to me, but I was far gone into the tornado of my thoughts to be able to come back from there. It was a fatal place – that place which held all of your unbridled thoughts. It is the place everyone works hard to securely lock and keep it from mixing with the normal thoughts, because it's contents are deadly.

It is the one which contains our ugly past, insecurities,  vulnerablitites, trauma, and our greatest fears. And naturally, opening the pandora box regularly would do no good to any of us, so we hide it. We stash it deeply inside the back of our mind, and make conscious efforts everyday, to keep it at bay.

But sometimes, we fail and–

"Scarlett! What is wrong with you?" Came a voice once more, and this time, I felt someone shaking me vigorously. Where was I?

As I recovered, I gradually started to register the different sounds around me – of people chatting with their friends, of vehicles that were in a rush to reach their destination, of the person who was standing next to me since I couldn't even walk.

"What are you doing here Aaliyah?" I asked her and saw a pretty woman standing a few steps behind us, and I understood instantly. She was on a date.

"Did you have one of those panic attacks again? Come on, let's go get some coffee." She told me before wrapping her arm around my shoulder and walking me towards the coffee shop right in front of us.

I didn't know if I had a panic attack, or if I was just contemplating about the nature of life. In this moment, I didn't even know if I was living a life worth living. I was merely breathing, working because I needed money to survive, and eating because I needed food to breathe. But, was this the life I had always wanted? Or had my past blocked my vision one too many times, so that I wouldn't be able to see anymore?

Was I reckless about my life, or just plain indecisive?

~♤ ▪︎ ♤ ▪︎ ♤~