It takes a while for that feeling to sink in. Rejection… Denial…
After making love very overpoweringly, we were both gasping for a breather.
I lit a cigarette and kept the ashtray on my belly balancing it in such a way that it did not trip over and spoil the crisp cotton bed sheet while resting my head on his arms.
“When was the last time you had sex?” he asked me.
I thought for a while trying to recall and then I said, “I do not remember”.
In that dimly lit room, I could see the wink in his eyes. He thought I was lying… trying to cover up or sound green.
“When was it that you had sex the last time?” I asked him and without waiting for his answer I continued, “A few hours? Days? Weeks? Months?”
“Three weeks”, he said as he took the cigarette from me and took a puff.
I pulled him close to me and kissed him again. I wanted this moment to freeze. I looked into his eyes and said, “I will fall in love with you…”
And even before I could complete the whole sentence, I heard him saying this,
“No! No! No! Don’t!”, as he moved his head from left to right in disagreement.
“Never do that. I am not the guy you should be in love with”.
I still kept looking at him, kissed him again and then smiled placidly.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing”, I said.
“Come off it, I know that smile of your. Tell me what it is”, he said he wanted to know.
“Put a baby inside me”, I told him.
“Crazy woman”, he said and I felt he wanted to end the conversation.
“What?” he still asked.
“Nothing”, I said.
There was a silence for a few minutes and then I said,
“Don’t worry. I won’t say that I am in love with you. I like being with you. Be it with clothes on or in my nakedness”.
“Me too”, he said.
I found it so hard to believe.
“Don’t worry”, I repeated.
“Why do you keep saying “Don’t worry” all the time?” he retorted.
“….uuummm mmmm… see I won’t behave or … or…act like a possessive and a jealous girlfriend…lover… you do not have to fret. I won’t stalk you either”.
And then we spoke for a long long time. At time he’d sit up and at times he’d lie back along with me caressing my arms, telling me amusing stories about his life, while I was still lying naked on the bed with a quilt covering my bareness.
There were times when I shifted and turned my back on him and also made sure he knew the reason… my troublesome backache.
He came close to me, spooned me and kissed me on my neck and shoulders as we still kept talking.
This is not the first time I am meeting him. We have known each other for about two years now.
Sparks flew from the time we met. He was shockingly flirtatious the first time we met.
The next time around when we met one on one, it was purely lust. Period.
As he left town I had sent him a message inquiring if he had reached home safely. It took him about 72 hours to reply to that message. And I knew it well, that I should not expect anything from this hookup. We were just filling our void. Nothing more, nothing less.
Meetings like such happened a few times thereafter.
And then after a while I did not feel too right about it. Maybe I was dumb…maybe I still am… yet I knew, the only time he longed to make that connect was when he was here. And then for the next few occasions, I always made a reason – genuine or not… I did not want to see him.
Even this time around, the first day I ignored him completely – not because it was a conscious effort, but because I was disturbed mentally, feeling very low about many thing in the personal front.
And then as I came home after watching Whiplash, I replied him shortly, what was troubling me and why I was so distant and aloof.
And the emotional fool that I am, I gave in. I said,
“OK, lets catch up, but we will wind up early…say by 9-ish, if its okay wih you.”
So that was it.
He came over…
We were meeting after a year and a month. He was taken aback to see me so silent …because that is not usually what I am.
Its been five days now that we met, that I got rejected.
There is one particular thing which I liked the most. In the two and hald years that I have known him, he has never done a thing like this.
I was sitting in the balcony talking to a friend of mine, gossiping over somebody not so important in Facebook. I was seated in the old and rickety sofa with both my legs curled to my left side. He was inside. Maybe he had gone to the washroom to freshen up. I am still not aware. But as he walked back to the balcony and sat, I almost removed my feet, making room for him, but he held both my feet with his hands tightly and as I was still speaking to my friend, he kept holding on to my forever cold feet, not letting me go.
He had a dinner invitation that evening.
“I want to spend some more time with you”, he said and added, “ I know its past the deadline you gave me, but still….”
I smiled… and asked him his plan of action.
“…..hhhmmm why don’t you wind up with your chores… and by that time I will attend the dinner and come back. Make sure the gates are not locked. I don’t want to jump over the gate”.
I still kept smiling and said, “Call me if the gates are locked. I have a set of spare keys”.
“Might not be able to call you as my cell phone is almost dead”.
So that was it. He left… I did my last winding up chores.
And then I sat in the balcony again, all alone this time waiting for him… and trust me when I say this, I have never waited so desperately for anybody in my life as I waited for him that evening.
And those moments seemed endless.
I sent him a stinker. Can’t help it. This is so very me. I wrote to him, “I hate waiting games”.
There was no reply from him. His phone must have died a slow death by then.
It was ten past eleven when he knocked on my door and came home back to me.
I am missing him so badly now. Yet I cannot say that. The way he said that I should not be in love with him is so still vivid; I swear on the life of mine, I will never say that I love him.
Yes, he is the wrong guy, yet he feels so right!