How innocent thoughts are when first love's breeze touches the heart... This article is nostalgic to me.
I hate love. I hate all the feelings it inspires in me. I hate the vulnerability it brings me and the power it gives him to hurt me beyond description. I hate the pain, the anxiety and the stupid hope it gives me. I hate it for the inevitable desolation it is sure to bring me. I hate the way I long for it to be realised, I hate the way it makes me understand my own cowardice.
I hate the way I can never forget his phone number. I hate the way it makes me grab any silly reason to call him. I detest the way it makes my heart jump whenever the phone rings, whenever the mail pings or whenever I open the IM centre. I hate the way gloom crashes over my stupid heart when I inevitably realise it isn't him. I detest myself for the way I pray for him to call me. I'm ashamed of the way I feel stupidly happy when I hear his voice... the way I get unusually tongue-tied and shy around him.
I loathe the way I can remember every single word he has told me... the way I super-analyse it for double-meanings where they don't exist. I hate the way I choose to ignore the times he'd hurt me unknowingly and love him more than ever when he utters a careless, "You look nice..."
I hate the way I feel jealous whenever he walks with another girl, even if she happens to be my best friend. I hate myself for reading his autograph in my class diary a zillion times with a stupid grin on my face... and the way I treasure the scribblings he'd passed me in class.
I loathe the way I tingle when he sits next to me or looks me in the eyes. Love makes me stare at his silly photos for hours and hours, and I resent my doing that. I hate the way I compare every guy in the planet with him and the way I seem to find all of them wanting. I detest the love that makes me do anything for him in return nothing more than a smile. I hate the way it gives him the ability to toy with my frail heart and the way I spend hours plagued in doubt, wondering if he really meant what he said or not.
I hate the way I'm so obvious and predictable around him, the way everyone seems to know the truth of my heart's desire... the scare it gives me when I wonder if it is as obvious to him as well. I hate love for all the tears I'd spent for him, the agony that it had made me undergo, makes me still undergo trying to understand what he is really thinking when he sees me and says all those things that he most probably says for fun... the things that I most probably take more seriously than I ought to.
I loathe the love that made me cry when I lost the earrings that he said looked beautiful. I hate the love that has imprinted his name into all my doodles, even the unconscious ones. I hate it for making me want to buy for him anything I see in a shop that I think he would love to have. I hate the way I love chocolates now, just because he does... the way I treasure every single insignificant thing he has given me. I hate the way love has changed me since I've met him... the way I still want to change to make him like me, even just an iota. I hated it when it made me look for him first thing in the morning, and the way I now think about him first thing after I wake up. I detest love for not leaving me alone even in the safe darkness of night. I hate it for infiltrating my dreams; I hate it for rooting itself in my sub-conscious.
I resent it for making me like this... a weak, dumb puppy always in self-doubt, with not one scrap of confidence left. Well I'll tell you what, love, I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU. The world needs more love, but not me. Stay away from me, I don't want you. Go find yourself another weakling to sink your parasitic fangs into. Leave me alone, Cupid you Devil, and take those sharp arrows of horror that you've aimed at me with such neat precision with you. You are most unwelcome and unwanted. Give me my deserved eternity to heal... I've got better things to do right now.
Yes, I HATE LOVE. I really do. But alas... I'll never hate him... My only wish is that my heart will be stronger in the days to come. I'll never forget you... and you'll always be the best friend I've ever had. But I bid you Good Bye from my heart, my Hamsa-Padava, today is the last day I'll ever willingly think about you or talk about you.
I hate the way I can never forget his phone number. I hate the way it makes me grab any silly reason to call him. I detest the way it makes my heart jump whenever the phone rings, whenever the mail pings or whenever I open the IM centre. I hate the way gloom crashes over my stupid heart when I inevitably realise it isn't him. I detest myself for the way I pray for him to call me. I'm ashamed of the way I feel stupidly happy when I hear his voice... the way I get unusually tongue-tied and shy around him.
I loathe the way I can remember every single word he has told me... the way I super-analyse it for double-meanings where they don't exist. I hate the way I choose to ignore the times he'd hurt me unknowingly and love him more than ever when he utters a careless, "You look nice..."
I hate the way I feel jealous whenever he walks with another girl, even if she happens to be my best friend. I hate myself for reading his autograph in my class diary a zillion times with a stupid grin on my face... and the way I treasure the scribblings he'd passed me in class.
I loathe the way I tingle when he sits next to me or looks me in the eyes. Love makes me stare at his silly photos for hours and hours, and I resent my doing that. I hate the way I compare every guy in the planet with him and the way I seem to find all of them wanting. I detest the love that makes me do anything for him in return nothing more than a smile. I hate the way it gives him the ability to toy with my frail heart and the way I spend hours plagued in doubt, wondering if he really meant what he said or not.
I hate the way I'm so obvious and predictable around him, the way everyone seems to know the truth of my heart's desire... the scare it gives me when I wonder if it is as obvious to him as well. I hate love for all the tears I'd spent for him, the agony that it had made me undergo, makes me still undergo trying to understand what he is really thinking when he sees me and says all those things that he most probably says for fun... the things that I most probably take more seriously than I ought to.
I loathe the love that made me cry when I lost the earrings that he said looked beautiful. I hate the love that has imprinted his name into all my doodles, even the unconscious ones. I hate it for making me want to buy for him anything I see in a shop that I think he would love to have. I hate the way I love chocolates now, just because he does... the way I treasure every single insignificant thing he has given me. I hate the way love has changed me since I've met him... the way I still want to change to make him like me, even just an iota. I hated it when it made me look for him first thing in the morning, and the way I now think about him first thing after I wake up. I detest love for not leaving me alone even in the safe darkness of night. I hate it for infiltrating my dreams; I hate it for rooting itself in my sub-conscious.
I resent it for making me like this... a weak, dumb puppy always in self-doubt, with not one scrap of confidence left. Well I'll tell you what, love, I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU. The world needs more love, but not me. Stay away from me, I don't want you. Go find yourself another weakling to sink your parasitic fangs into. Leave me alone, Cupid you Devil, and take those sharp arrows of horror that you've aimed at me with such neat precision with you. You are most unwelcome and unwanted. Give me my deserved eternity to heal... I've got better things to do right now.
Yes, I HATE LOVE. I really do. But alas... I'll never hate him... My only wish is that my heart will be stronger in the days to come. I'll never forget you... and you'll always be the best friend I've ever had. But I bid you Good Bye from my heart, my Hamsa-Padava, today is the last day I'll ever willingly think about you or talk about you.
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