So I was going for my morning run today and started thinking…why am I doing this? I mean I’m not obese or anything, and not like I want to wait until I am. But I was just thinking- I started putting on weight sometime after puberty and ever since then though I have been uncomfortable and sometimes extremely unhappy about the way I look, I’ve only on some rare occasions taken measures to change that. And would it be weird if I told you that the only times I ever really wanted to change the way my body looked was when I was in a relationship? See people would think that you want to look hot when you’re single so you can get a boyfriend. But my story’s a little different. I usually don’t care about how I look while I’m single and then once I get a boyfriend, I start working out. For me love isn’t enough. On some occasions I want him to lust me. So in my 19 years, I have only 6 times taken measures to better my physique. The first time was when I was 14 yrs old and my sister wanted company for aerobics class; gave up after 3 weeks coz I had no energy to cope with school, aerobics and 5 hr long tuition class. The 2nd time was when I was 16 and my mum thought I could use some power yoga along with my aunt; gave up after a month coz my mum had some issue with the trainer. The 3rd time was when I was 17, had just got into a relationship and wanted to motivate my fat boyfriend by looking healthier; gave up after 2 months coz he wasn’t really getting affected and I was losing so much weight people thought I was sick. The 4th time was when I had just got into university and was bored out of my mind so joined the gym coz my roommate thought it would be fun; gave up after a month coz I moved out and away from the place. And now when I’m 19 and have a boyfriend who is a footballer and want to match up to at least half his fit body.
Don’t get it wrong. I’m not doing it because I feel pressurized or anything. I just feel I have so much more potential. I could be so much happier if I was just a little thinner. No matter how many times you deny it or say it’s wrong, the models in print and on the internet are always going to make you feel bad about yourself unless you are actually the same size. And though not always healthy, it’s a form of motivation. So I finally listed down my reasons for wanting to lose weight:
- I want to fit into that damned dress that doesn’t come in any size except small and medium.
- I want my mum to stop saying “you’re so pretty. If only you were a little thinner”
- I want my boyfriend’s friends to stop thinking of him as a chubby chaser.
- I want to be able to look my doctor in the eye and say “HA! You think my PCOD is going to make me fat? Hell I am not putting up with it”
- Last but not the least I never again want to hear someone say “you’re fluffy. I know fluffy is the new fat, but hey you’re not really fat”
found this in my diary. wanted to put it up.
“This festival meant a lot to me as a kid. I used to stay awake watching Kermit while my mum and sister would be up all night drawing elaborate rangoli’s. And also all those things mum would prepare and then ask us to serve them to dad when he would come home. I miss all that. I miss being with them. I miss being a family. And then when I grew up, I used to help mum with the cleaning up, the rangoli and she finally had us to ask if her recipes tasted fine. Then there were faerie lights and lanterns and crackers and neighbours to exchange platters of sweets and savories with. There were brothers to help with the crackers and share. And pretty clothes to wear and holidays from school and staying up just to burst crackers and people to greet.
And now there is this. An empty apartment, a bunch of soda cans and empty chips packets and a crap load of studying. And memories of past making it all the more horrible. If I have kids, ever, I shall never make them go through this. I would either never make a deal out of festivals at all, or if I do, then I would keep it up until the day I die. No matter what. If I ever have a family, I will never abandon them, even if unintentionally.”
so well my mum read this by chance. she cried. well i didn’t write it to make her cry. too bad that she did. i didn’t want to make her feel bad. i just. well. never mind.
Okay last night was weird. So well let me start by telling you about my NYE day first, and then I can continue with the whole day and night. So well on 31st of December 2012, I woke up and went out at 10 in the morning to see Mr E. I was upset because my parents and I had been fighting. Me and dad actually. It was a mess. They couldn’t make it for NYE and so I and my sister would be spending it alone and I was pissed about that. All I have ever wanted is a normal family that spends time together and stays together…and that never happens. So well anyways. So I woke up when he called me, 15 minutes later was out of the house and he was there at my gate. I told him I just wanted to ride around and not really go anywhere. So he took me to a McDonald’s really out of the way and fed me hash browns. Like force fed me. Not nice. Anyways. So then he dropped me back home. And then I spent the entire day at home…and in the evening me and my sister were planning to go out and do a bit of shopping and dinner, when my mum called up and was crying because she was upset too that we were all separate and that upset my sister so she refused to move out of the house. I told her I couldn’t take anymore and just went out promising to be back within an hour or two. Called up my bestie and called up Mr E to come to the mall. So I got to the mall first, fuck loads of traffic on the way. Then like half hour later Mr E came. And we were just talking aboutus..and how a few hours earlier he had said something ridiculous like “he fell in love with me” and stuff. So I asked him to explain it to me and be really honest about it. Turns out, my intuition was spot on. He is infact in love with me, oh god just thinking about ths is giving me stomach ache even two days later!! So well this is what kinda happened that day.
Mr E : so how would you describe us? Like what we are..the relationship we share
Me : oh, well…umm you and I are just like neha and me, but only that you are a guy!
Mr E : seriously, that’s what its like for you?
Me : yes! Why? Is it any different for you??!
Mr E : yeah..well see all along I had been thinking that you and I were like..you know..you liked me, I liked you..but we are not dating because we don’t want to spoil this ..and well..turns out I have been wrong and I’m the only one who thinks so..hmm
*sigh* I’m tired..i think I should go sleep…iv been awake all night and now I’m feeling pukish. Oh and also on 31st, I met up with my ex-boyfriend in the same car where I had first kissed him 😡 more on that later!
Okay. I thought I was over him. But then when she mentioned his name and said he was here, I freaked out and almost peed my pants.
I was just heading up to the mall with my sister, my best friend was already at the mall waiting. Then I got a call from her. “Where are you?” she asked.
me: in the auto. Almost there. What’s up?
she: you won’t fucking believe whom I just met. *****!!!
me: ahh fuck. There? Now? How!?!?
she: apparently he is in town coz his grand died. So yeah
me: hold on ! fuck!! No balance!! Wait I’ll call you back! Fuck!! Fuck!!
So when I finally got to the mall and spoke to her and got all details- that he was in town coz his grand died, he was there with his sister and that he had put on more weight than before, I freaked out and couldn’t move or think or say anything. I was surprised that the mere mention of his presence could shake me up so bad. It wasn’t that I had feelings for him or anything. No. I had moved on long back. It was just, I did not know what I was expected to do if I saw him ever again. Somehow in my head, I had been clinging to the idea that I would never ever see him again. And that was shattered by the possibility of a chance encounter!
I am much better now that the threat has passed and I am safe and sound in my own house. Apparently he had left his number with my bestie to pass it on to me coz he had lost his phone and all his contacts. I did not take the number from her. But today I just messaged him on Facebook, passing condolences for his grand. Let’s see whether he replies or not. I don’t even know whether I want a reply or not.
Okay so. Well as expected, I and he sorted out things. I think he is in love. Not with me, but who I am. And that is bad for both of us. Because 1) I don’t see any chances of anything ever becoming of us except for friends, and 2) I’m not in love with him.
So he sent me an IM on Facebook this morning and then asked if I was still mad at him. He said he had cried last night, because he was frustrated. I was still mad at him, but more than being mad, I was tired. Tired of the constant fighting. Tired of the constant thinking. Tired of being on my watch 24×7 waiting for things to explode in my face.
And plus today was the day my parents decided to play role reversal and started acting like insolent kids and I had to yell at my dad and that caused a huge fight. I asked Mr. E (coz I don’t want to write his name here) to come over to my area coz I just wanted to see him and run the fuck away from everybody else. And I had decided that today no matter what, I was going to do exactly what my heart wanted and not give my brain a chance to ruin things. It worked. We had a great time.
We went out, he was patient in listening to me rant about my fucked up parents. He did not once try and say anything like “maybe you should do this or do that” or any such smart ass comments which are highly unwelcome. He was just there. And I liked it. And then we called a few friends out too and then just lazed around and then he dropped me home and insisted on accompanying me to go buy dinner and actually assist me all the way to the gate of my apartment. *sigh* for the first time I kissed him on his cheek. I don’t know why. My heart said I should. My brain said it would be too much. I gave my brain the finger.
He is a nice guy, no doubt. But he is way too complicated in things that should be super simple and super chilled about something’s of extreme gravity. It’s like he is for the first time interacting with people and mixing in society and is having a hard time figuring out things. I’m patient. And I honestly don’t mind working things out with him. I just hope that in the process he doesn’t mix up everything I do . Also hoping I don’t mix up my own feelings.
My exam results were declared yesterday. I failed 2 papers out of 3. Killed me.
Okay so that’s what I had expected would have happened. But on the contrary I’m quite alive, painfully so. There is no physical pain, yet. But it hurts to think of what could have been mine, of what I have lost.
I had worked for my exams. Throughout the year I had spent most of my waking hours in college, attending class, giving viva’s, practical’s and the works. But that had not been enough and somewhere along the line I had screwed up. More on that later.
I spent the past month in anticipation of these results and now that it’s finally out I don’t know if I’m happy or upset. I was super scared of what my mum would say. I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of failure itself or about my parent’s reaction. And it turns out my parents, no matter how beaten and disappointed still have that one thing that all human’s, irrespective of their conditions have-HOPE.
It was just me, mum and my sister at home when I checked my results online. Every one of my friends had passed, and I was the only one from my group who had failed. That felt horrible. Those bastards had been crying ever since the first exam that they had written such a bad paper that even if god willed it, they couldn’t pass. I’m not angry, or jealous that they passed. No. I’m just really pissed that they lied about it. Why the fuck would you do that?
Anyways so the aim this time is to write the supplementary papers and get more marks than those mother fuckers. I’m on it bitches.