Yes. I could not pick a better song or a better title. And probably looking back (maybe 15-20 years or so), I will read this post and get to laugh at it (or entirely delete the post). You know what they say sometimes, things are clearer in retrospect.

A friend told me that you’d know when it’s true love. You would just know it. There is a SIGN!  I was gunning for something really literal – like maybe a huge arrow with neon lights around it plus an embossed “YES, DUMBASS! THIS IS IT”.  There is no turning back. But no, for slow people like me – I didn’t pretty much get it until I found myself crying every single night listening to songs like “Need you now” by Lady Antebellum or “Love Song” by 311 asking myself  “What the fuck am I crying for?” or “Why does this have to be this way?” “Why the fuck does this hurt so much?” and “You???? Why does it have to be you???”  “Really??” “Seriously? I’m having a meltdown because you won’t talk to me and I cannot function like I used to???” “Really, is this what I get for working my ass for 2 years???”  And the crazy shit goes on and on.

You see at this point, I know I am not making sense. These are just random outbursts of rage slash….  I don’t know… misery. Truth is, I never saw it coming. Have I not been clear enough? I just need to reiterate this.. how could I not see this coming. Me, at 27 years never had it in me. Some might have even thought of me being asexual – I am a unicellular being incapable of relationship or much less a romantic inclination. I have been clearly blindsided by how brilliant you are and how sometimes I wish for one day, I could think like you and would very much want to marry your brain.

That is how sad this life has become – because that is how I felt after I realized that maybe you are what I have ever really wanted. But I lost you.  All this time, I haven’t been really looking for anyone I would want to spend my non-work days with. I was pretty much a regular workaholic – 14-16 hour shifts??? Bring it.  Life was pretty much linear to me – Workdays, weekends, they’re still work for me. Work, friends, family. Work, work, work.  It is all that matters to me because life outside work is just me, my imaginary kitty (by that I meant a pet), and quality time with friends and family.  I wouldn’t say it was boring or that I was unhappy then. I wasn’t really, unhappy being single.  That’s probably why I wasn’t looking then. But then you had to fluster me with your impeccable grammar, your brilliance in numbers (two of the things I unfortunately lack), and well, your confidence – okay, 3 of the things  a good candidate for any position should have.

The first cut may be the deepest (or whatever cliche you got there).  At first, I thought about how we click, just about our chemistry. The things I thought were just plain funny and that I was amazed at how you are not offended by my humor, like others would be and how instantaneously I could respond to your banters without really feeling such a douche. I thought connecting to you on a personal level would make it easier to work with you because I always had a theory about good working relationships, that you’d have to level with the person or that you’d at least be thinking at the same wavelength.

But then in between those sessions when my brain was just about to give up from work, we would have these conversations that are sometimes subversively entertaining and very very much conniving to the point when I thought, something is not right. But of course I dodged the idea. I was having fun. FUN is a relative concept. I realized.

Then we started having our own inside jokes, something that became intuitive and special (for me). Did our connection grow deeper? Are we now in sync?  Did our eyes communicate? Did actions need no further words?  For me at some point it came to that.

Didn’t had a slightest hint of weirdness in me. I continue to go with the flow. I just continued feeling comfortable. Maybe this is how we are, as friends. But then I realized I felt more than that when I began ending e-mails with TAKE CARE.

WHERE IN THE FUCKING HELL DID THAT COME FROM??  Was I being sweet? Wasn’t that beyond platonic?  Why is there malice now?

Who put those words in my mouth? Why are the walls going down?? And so this is how I fall?  HARD. FLAT. DELAYED FOR A YEAR?