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"I hate him", okay I do this often when I am left alone. I look out from the window next to my bed. I see the moon. He tells me about the sun, and I tell him about my past. He has seen my smiling, seen me crying. I hate midnight conversations; they reveal the real me!
The time when you drift apart from people and start being into yourself to care the least about anyone or everyone and meet someone who swings your mindset. Yeah, I experienced it.
My tale revolves around someone who made me a total bitch, I lost my politeness, and I lost my power of trust. I became rough and rude. Obviously, you adapt a change in yourself when you get to see the real side of someone who meant a lot to you. The sugar coating was temporary; the chocolate was ruined inside. And so I started hating chocolates, and I had a successful transformation, being bitter.
Anyway, it was fascinating to find someone bitter there after, when you're already done with sweetness. A virtual friend totally messed up like me. Trust me, imperfections or say flaws are the best things in a person, for they're permanent and lovable. Maybe I sound stupid but a Mr./Ms. Perfect just make you feel inferior and insecure. Fall in love with someone's flaws, because that's something real about the person.
Frustrated, messed up one became my favourite, I could relate to him every time. The bitter candy was sweet for only one after suffering a close broken friendship. Maybe, I found comfort in just one.
And the best thing about our bond was late night calls. Because I love the three a. m. Version, VULNERABLE - HONEST - REAL. I love the sleepy voice and sarcasm, which drags me into a comfort zone. A change in voice and he could detect my mood swings. Not everyone understands me this deep. Late night call was something special, for I spoke what I thought I could never speak. Late nights calls discovered different versions of me, the non-stop mode, emotional mode and the crazy mode.
Sometimes I feel like ending up my own life for I'm abnormal for sure. My own thoughts get heavier on me, and I feel like jumping off a cliff and never opening my eyes again. I tear pages of my stupid diary for they narrate a tale which had a horrible end.
Everyone craves for love, so do I. Especially when someone already pretended to love but ended up being an asshole, you need love to heal those old scars. Sometimes, I even feel like being picked up in the lap and being kissed like a small baby. Okay, I'm insane.
I don't need to get drunk, silence at 3 a.m. is already enough. I don't hold any demons or tornado inside me, but I define myself just as 'the alone writer'. Loneliness is a spiritizer in its own. But speaking out enriches your soul truely. It helps to overcome your insecurities because sometimes you speak out what you really feel but were unable to figure out on your own.
There's always something special about a virtual friend and a late night call with him for you don't need to think much before sharing your stuff. Someone who lend you ears when your soul yells inside.
When I lay on my bed, close my eyes and speak, I don't feel the distance of thousand miles beneath us. I feel I'm next to him, in his embrace eager to listen to him. I feel his heavy breaths reaching my face. When we talk till morning, my tired eyes still sparkle. Those telephonic kisses fetch an original smile. Being distant away he makes me feel high.
He reminds me stuffs damn too patiently and those sugar sweet taunts never offend me. A virtual friend I never met but those eyes in the snap seem alcoholic. His voice and those virtual hugs soothe every negative vibe.
I don't know much about him, but I feel I could hold his hand when he goes low and tell him he's the most adorable person I ever met, and make him smile. I wish I could take away all his insecurities and could pull his cheeks. I wish I could tell him that there's something more adorable in him other than humour. I wish we hold onto each other. Even though things change, I never want to.
The moon, the stars and the sun know our secrets. The texts are hidden behind a locked smartphone but those late night giggles are heard by the breeze. Afterall, we are under the same moon. Maybe the moon gets jealous and disappears too quickly, and the sun burns when comes up.
Maybe I'm so stupid, I start sobbing without stating even the reason, I start taunting without a mistake, I laugh without a joke, and I turn dramatic without the whiskey. Still, it goes all so smooth. Neither of us is normal though.
Someday, I'll meet him and wrap my arms around him, and will feel his warmth in real. Someday, I'll rest my hands on his shoulder and dance with him. Someday, I'll get drunk with him and tell him all my secrets. Someday, I'll make him feel good about himself. Someday, I'll hold his hand and travel the world.