Fiction

That Boy.

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Do you remember him?
You lie down one cloudy afternoon on your bed thinking about this guy.
You, who is a married woman with a loving husband … with a king size closet… with a little baby girl dressed in lovely pink.
You recently met an old college friend. And while she was spilling the beans about the old dirty little secrets… she mentioned this boy. That boy you’d long forgotten.
She told you that he loved you so much that he could die for you. He would break people’s face who said wrong about you. He doped and drank, just so that he’d not think about the fact that he would never be with you.
You start thinking furiously about him. He was a good friend and still you never knew.
That’s why maybe he never got in touch after he moved away.
That’s why perhaps he never answered your calls because now he had a choice to never see you again.
You feel delinquent thinking about him so much.
You scan through your memory for the signs that you paid no heed to.
Tall. Among the cute ones he was with an IQ comparable to the gods.  The music he listened to was edgy and you could just sit down there and listen to him rap all day. You remember the time when you cried in front of him this one day and he left. You thought he didn’t care about you but he cared way too much to stay and watch you cry. That day when you were alone in a crowd of hundreds and he knew that you were so he just came by and sat beside you and you pretended as if you were having fun. That day when he kissed you and you thought that he was drunk and was kissing everyone around so you just laughed it off.
He asked you about the girls he could date and for advices on how to ask ‘em out. How would you have ever known?
He talked as if this world was his slave and you, out of all the pretty faces in college, were his queen and you thought that was the funniest thing ever. Somehow you could never take him seriously owing to his awfully funny demeanor. Once he told you he was an alien and asked you not to tell anyone.
That one day strikes your mind when he wanted see you. He said he had to say something.  You thought that he was going to tell you about his alien invasion plans palpably. You sat beside him while he muttered something with no hands and no legs. He was high. He said he thought you were beautiful. He said it with all the seriousness a boy of his humour could muster. You just sat there and smiled in disbelief. There was too much noise around.  He said that you were beautiful. You were magic and that he likes you. Towards the last line, his words got cloudy to you.
You forgot to listen.
You asked him to repeat and he never did. And suddenly today you knew what he had said. Crystal clear were the sound of his words.
You start wondering what if you knew how much he liked you. How things would be then. Would you have liked him back with as much intensity? You get transfused to a parallel universe.
A universe where you were with him.
You then think about how he would look like now. Would he be the same skinny pole like figure or would he be fat now? You start wondering about his family. About his kids and wife or perhaps he’s single. Travelling around the world maybe. Or maybe he really was an alien and went back to his planet 9.
The thoughts of him engulf you like a parasite.
He seems like a worldly possession you want to grab a hold of. You want to leave the perfect world and reach out to a long lost lover and rediscover him, maybe. It’s like your own version of “The Notebook” playing out loud in your head.
The desire to sit down in peace and listen to him mounts up. You wish hard that you hadn’t forgotten to listen to him that night.
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