I am tired of waiting.
Tired of opening myself up,
Faster than the wine bottle on a weekend.
Tired of waiting for everyone I think I can fall in love with,
waiting for them to peel the layers of insecurity.
I don’t feel weird to talk about that embarrassing disease that I had,
or about those secrets that I am not supposed to spill.
Tell me about the words that remain unspoken after you almost ask a question and then say “nevermind”.
Tell me about the things you think as you stare at the ceiling at 2AM in the morning,
one leg placed deliberately outside the covers to maintain a perfect hot to cold ratio as he slept beside you;snoring.
Tell me about your fears and your peers.
About how you like a little dull shade of white.
Tell me about how you cry over stealing a cookie,
because the society won’t stop shaming you.
And I will do the same.
I will tell you about how I always think of scenarios when everyone close to me dies.
I will tell you how numb I feel.
I will tell you about how I don’t dream and how I am a pathological liar.
If you look closely, you will see the chaos behind the screens.
The shadows of fear and insecurity lurking and sometimes peeping from the gaps between the curtain.
But no, you love the play.
Somehow, emotional baggage scares you more than STDs.
There you all are,
Trying to stay away from me as if I am a hot chunk of coal.
Afraid that I will burn you and leave a scar.
Well, Maybe I will.
But you will have a story to tell.
I don’t know if I am a romantic or not.
But I want to skip the awkward chats,
consisting of half meant “What’s up?” and “Nothing Much”,
and self-loathing followed by “brb”.
Where you live, can wait.
I need the fucking why.
I feed on it.
You want to take things slow?
Roller-coasters don’t move slow.
They fall that way.
And us; if it is ever meant to be, will always be a roller-coaster.
Don’t you worry about the spark.
If we are ever meant to be, I know that you will have a fire inside your belly.
Let us skip to the part where you and I are opinionated,
Let’s talk about our fears and tragedies.
Tell me how you want to kill someone who stares at you longer than 2 seconds.
And I will tell you how I hate not splitting the bill.
We don’t have a lot of time.
When love arrives, we have to be on the station.
Or we will miss it.
And see it go on the rails of fortune.
But if we do board,
We will know,
whether we are to be together or not.
I promise to pull the chain,
And I hope you’ll do the same.
We are humans, looking for love.
Not fortresses surrounded by tunnels and barbed wires.
Don’t put on such a thick cloak of self-love that it is impossible to reach out to you.
Don’t make it too hard.
Not many will make an effort to crawl in the mud of patience.
I get it,
Those who don’t make an effort don’t deserve you.
you are not a trophy.
You are a human being.