Okay. So, there was this girl in my when i was 9. Back then, she was this awesome girl. The topper of the class, the captain of the dodge ball team, an artist and well, the teacher’s pet. Every boy in the class hated her. I did too, outwardly. Inside , i was fascinated with her (not love or a crush, just fascination ). I wanted to know her better. I wanted to be in her presence. I didn’t know what i felt, but i did a great deal to get what i wanted. I took the same second-language class as hers. I played a lot of dodge ball and i also did my best to sit behind her in class ( the teacher got to decide where we sat ).A couple of years passed. No one knew, of course. I made jokes about her and pulled pranks while sitting behind her, just to piss her off. I didn’t even know why. At that time, every feeling blurred together, anything to get her attention. She had a different economic and social status than mine. Her father worked in the coast guard, and they lived in a posh apartment. And i was the second son of a single mom whose husband abandoned her. My mom worked as a government teacher ( in india, that’s kinda poor. And my mom helped out some people with some money and they cheated her. So, we were in a lot of debt.) and the only reason that the girl and i studied in the same school was cause the school offered scholarships to kids whose parents were government employees. So, the girl lived far away from my home. Many of the friends from class stayed in the same apartment as hers ( in India, an apartment means a group of houses, not like christian grey’s Escala ) and they spoke about how they played together everyday. Of course i was interested, she played along with them. So, i cycled every weekend(each day) to the apartment and played along with those kids. I had to travel for like, 15 kms , up and down. We didn’t own a car or a motorcycle. I could afford public transport but then, i’d have to ask my mom for money and i obviously couldn’t tell her that i wanted to do all that for a girl, at that age. It sounds ridiculous to even me, now that i think about it. So, i went there, played along with her for as long as i could, threw the ball into the balcony as many times as i could just so that i could go get it and see more and more of her house ( i know, pathetic ). But it was all i could do to be a part of her world. Even if it was very insignificant. I was doing okay and then, my family got into some deeper s***. My brother studied away in a hostel and it was me and my mom at our house. We actually had to move cause we couldn’t afford the place we were living in. This place was even farther from hers. My mom left early for her job and i had to prepare myself for school, and i missed the school bus almost everyday and public transport doesn’t reach school. So, i skipped school a lot. I missed out of on friends. Missed out on her ( didn’t miss her, just missed out on her ). Got isolated. My mom always talked about a better future and i understood that she was working her a** off for me. At my house, we had a TV but couldn’t afford the cable, our computer was broken and we couldn’t afford to get it fixed. So, i sought out to the only thing that my dad actually left behind, his collection of books ( he was a well recognized and published author ). When i was alone at home, i read my a** off. Hundreds of books, uncensored stuff. Even gore. Maturity hit me like a train ( not puberty ). At the end of the year, the head mistress was kind enough to let me write my the term exams even thought i had an attendance lag. I did see her the few number of times i went to school, but with all this in my mind, i didn’t really pay attention.
I passed my exams, of course ( it was seventh grade ). By the summer vacation, my mom’s hard work actually paid off. We moved to a better place and we could afford a car, the cable and a new computer. We weren’t super rich but we weren’t suffering anymore. My mom could stay home enough to send me to school by herself, things were brightening up. We even went on a vacation, at the end of summer vacation and i was late to rejoin my classes by a couple of days. I was happy and i was actually looking forward to meeting all my friends and her. To bad, she moved out to another state. People and teachers talked a lot about how much they missed her and how much potential she had. No one felt like, after all the reading, now, i did miss her. Hell, i was devastated. But i was a kid, and the lines blurred again and it was too complex to process, so, i let it go. I changed schools and made new friends. I was kinda happy. My mom got cheated by family, this time, but we were financially stable. I went through a lot, but i thought of her daily ( literally, daily. ) . An year passed and i started to realize i had a crush on her. So, i started to ask people around by calling them ( facebook wasn’t famous enough then ). She left behind a phone number that didn’t work anymore with her best friends. It was too complex, i let go again, but i still thought, dreamed about her, talked about her with my new friends. She was just a far ff dream to me. But i still couldn’t forget her, she was there, always. Like the binding of a book, never seen but always there, in the background. Years passed, and facebook was on raze then. I searched for her online, of course. I had to find her surname first, that itself was a big task. I never bothered with it and so did anyone else. I asked around shamelessly, and finally found it ( how? I illegally checked the school records and even got in trouble with the cops ). I was crazy. Of course, she wasn’t on facebook, studious as she was, it was only expected. I even contacted people with the same surname as her and got very threatening replies ( i contacted her elder sister who threatened to file a cyber crime complaint against me. All i asked her was a way to contact her sister, the girl, very respectfully ). I let her go again. But she was always there. i was 18 and she was slowly receding from my thoughts. Then, one day i had this strange dream about her about me running around in her old apartment. I wake up and the first thing is that i check for her on fb, and bam, there she was. No photos, but she was her, mutual friends from our old school, i sent her a request. She accepted it, But i wasn’t strong enough to text her. what if her sister told her about the internet creep? what if she didn’t remember me at all. Then, one day i text her and we start talking. It actually turns out good, we talk for coming months. We are the okay-ish friends. All we ever did was to talk about intelligent stuff, no personal stuff. I was dying to see her but she never uploaded any pictures online. I know its not decent to ask a girl to send a picture of her, so i never did. And my birthday comes and my friend ( only true one, perhaps. I have a problem letting people in ) posts a picture compilation of people spelling out happy birthday for me and there she is, in one of those pictures. I didn’t actually recognize her until he told me ( i told him everything about her ). I got closer to her and we became good friends. We still talk and she’s the only one i make time to talk to. I sometimes even flirt with her. But the problem is that i am connected to her on so many levels that most people don’t even comprehend and i, to her am just a close friend. We haven’t ever met, but i feel so comfortable with her, like i would be comfortable to tell her my darkest secrets but i understand that she doesn’t know all of my past and wouldn’t be expecting me to be like that. The pain that comes when you want to say so much but can’t, oh my god. This isn’t about me falling in love with her or me being scared to tell her. I ain’t bothered to tell her all of this. I don’t care about all that. What bothers is that i can’t talk to her like i want to. I slip sometimes and its so embarrassing. i just wanted to share, thank you!!