Finding Him and Me

Prologue

"There are moments in our lives that seem to define us. But, ................."

Arjun and I, as moments defined us, in the past were Prince Charming and Cinderella. Literally. I inevitably fell in love, not with his charm but because of his absence. Desperate I was for him, his grace, feel, gaze. I loved him so much. Love him so much ? But it was a concert after all and things ended as soon as the curtains closed. Wait things that don't start don't end, do they? So technically, nothing ended, but after that night in the month of December.. It started. The irony isn't lost on me.

"..........But, isn't it really about what lies beyond those moments?"

Very common to most cliché stories, I was this sassy and naive girl who was unaware of how her reckless actions would yield unimaginably painful and heart clenching results. I ignored and suppressed all feelings that arose then, but a few weeks later...

I missed those evening classes amidst the green surroundings resonating with the giggly voices of a hundred girls. The damp air holding the moisture and fragrance of rain and wet soil. The muscle memorised music started fading away from my body and I began to remember and miss him. The tall, lean lad who charmed me breathless. And I am an incurable fanatic of romantic, dreamy, fanciful novels, that bring out the message of love in the best way possible. Ergo, I imagined him to be Heathcliff and Darcy and Hardin. However, I never imagined myself to be Catherine, Elizabeth or Tessa.

I could neither look nor think of any boy except him, except Arjun. Because deep down I'd given myself up, body and soul to the boy of my dreams, who unlike the novels exists in the reality, but I'm probably non existent for him. But that's a moot point..

I wanted him to be mine and I his, I was not obsessed but simply dreamy and in love. There were times when truth and realisation struck like lightening, pulling me out of this feeling that was between dreaming and partial reality but I quietly crept back into it..

And I submerged deeper and deeper into this feel.....

It was like the sun. A constant and ultimate energy giver. It gave me a reason to live and be better and do the right things. I tried to make the correct decisions because I felt deep down I would meet him one day, that day will be a 'turning point' in my life, when everything I dreamt about would set into action in reality.

But, you know what? These pathetic fucking romantic books are loads of shit. They make you dream and cast you under their evil spell, drug you. And you fail to break free. And the realisation of it being a fantasy finally strikes hard and abrupt and meanly like a tight slap across my cheek. In and during a time, that made me lose my shit completely. This realisation was - well I don't really know, because its indescribable.

My body is on sleep mode. My brain cells inactive. All I wanted was him. I didn't fear the consequences of such bizarre needs. I wanted to see him, speak to him, feel him. You might jump to think I'm psychotic and morbid, but I so don't give a flying shit.

I deserve to at least have a one more chance.

"There are moments in our lives that seem to define us. But, isnt it really about what lies beyond those moments? "