Life between texts – I

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I often find myself walking in and out of right, wrong and frankly, okay situations.

As I fight the temptation of sending you another message, “One mustn’t come across as needy”, I tell myself.
Between the time you get my message and reply, I toss and turn and live out far too many lives in my imagination. I switch off my phone on the pretext of ‘staying away from technology’, secretly hoping that a lack of reply from me, would raise the same level of panic within you as it does in me.

Perhaps we’re all not wired the same way, I try to console myself, as one would do to a child whose friend just broke his favourite toy… absolutely hopeless and to no avail. The whys, hows and whats begin to consume me. In a while, the sheer exhaustion of living such a dreary moment starts to take its toll on me.

It could be that I pay too much attention to what you say. Then again, I also pay attention to what hasn’t been said. For everything that is being said, something equally important is being left out. My mind wanders to that place where all these unsaid things go to. That land of unsaid  ‘I love yous’, ‘I don’t love yous’, ‘Your new hair colour is revolting’… what a truly gloomy place that might be.

Of course I don’t tell you all this. The craziness must be left where it belongs… in between moments of loud quietness, nestled amid noisy silence, where only fellow over-thinkers like me live.

And then as if pulling me back to reality, after what feels like five minutes of eternity, the blinking light on the corner of my phone begs my attention.
And then the waiting starts all over again.

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