I had decided that I had written everything that I had to say about you. That there was no thought of you that I could possibly have again. Or that would possibly be new.
That lasted a grand total of two days (if I am being optimistic). But I persevered, I resisted my feelings to give in and vent it out. But today I must, because, today I am overjoyed. And, that is because I have realised what word completes the sentence: I _____ you.
I am fascinated by you. Honestly. You are the only person who can distract me from thinking about how experimental error is an indirect proof of the existence of God. Or how incompleteness implies that the physical universe is open. Or how using set theory we can prove that there can be no universe. Granted, all of those thoughts make me, a delusional schizophrenic – I can convincingly prove, I think, why John Nash got it right about the papers – but I am fine with that.
You are the most interesting little problem that I have had the good fortune to ever observe. I feel so blessed to know you. Because you know, they say that there is a person for everybody and we all have these ridiculous checklists that we have in our minds for our Miss (or in your case Mr.) Right, and I thought, that I was pretty amazing, because there was no woman on earth who could meet my ridiculously high standards.
I have no compunction at all in admitting that I was humbled, completely and utterly. If I believe in God today(against my “better” judgement) then it is because of you, and I am sure that the more I know you, the stronger my faith would become.
I have a confession. One thing about me, that I am sure, is the only thing that sets me apart from most people – I dissect my thoughts as thoroughly as you’d dissect a cadaver – and often as precisely and mechanically.
I am my own laboratory – and all the data I have are my thoughts. And to understand the universe – to understand myself (whatever that might mean), I analyse every nugget of my thoughts. Every thought process – I am very attuned to my thoughts. I’ll give you an example:
To get to know is often used in a colloquial context as slang for having sex with somebody – now I do want to – but I won’t. I have realised that for me, when I say, that I want to get to know you better – it means I need more data, I want more because I need to understand you better, which I need to do to understand the universe better. Which I need to do, because the universe is my complement, arguing from a really strong anthropic principle, which is just a somewhat weaker form of what had me convinced that I am all that is real in the universe. What I mean is, I want to know you, because only through you can I know myself.
To deny my more than obvious physical interest in you would be to do you a disservice. I would never, as far as it is within my power, ever do you wrong, I swear to you. I almost made a mistake, and I paid too heavy a price for what was very small a mistake(it is arguable if it was even one) by a very confused man in a very bad phase of his life. I cannot dare to do you wrong, it would weigh too heavy on my conscience.
Here is what I have been doing: I analyse my thoughts, I find out the ones that I think are wrong, or sinful or anything like that. I just eliminate them, I simply stop thinking them. The only sinful thoughts I have had, have been about you, but they are a lot more sensitised – I would kiss your hand, draw you in close, hold you, whisper some sweet words(I’ll tell you when we are together) and if I am braver(or stupider) than I should be, I would kiss you. I am working on it. I will get rid of this one last fantasy. If for my feelings to be pure and platonic, it is necessary for me to make my feelings for you completely crystallised and inorganic – then I would.
Its difficult to describe, how terribly addicting lustful thoughts of you can be. Almost the whole nation suffers from it – you get more likes on your pictures than your actor relative! 550+ is crazy, and all those guys and some of those girls are having lusty thoughts about you. And it makes me feel so unclean – that I end up being one of them. And they kept in such a haze, that I never actually bothered to even talk to you, like really talk to you, I just convinced myself that I loved you, and that way, I could justify my thoughts of you to myself, and just keep dreaming of you, the eventual first meeting, when we would both be perfect. The really amazing sex.
I am better than that. I am more than that. I am true.
What I mean to say is, if we can’t be together – then at least I would die trying to make me as fascinating to you as you are to me. If, to capture your imagination, it is necessary for me to die – then I would without a second thought, embrace death. My only regret is that, I would never be able to tell you, how I feel. And, that regret, keeps me alive.
I have so much regret for all that I did wrong to you. I was just so lonely, and thinking like a typical human. It is sad and very humbling to admit that now I have started to feel lonely and desire a human presence in my life, a body to lie next to mine and heat me up on cold, lonely winter nights.
I don’t know why they talk about summer being a season for lust. The kind of overwhelming winter loneliness blues, summer just don’t measure up to that.
Then there was this time, when I decided, that since you won’t marry me, I won’t get married at all. I would be a celibate, I meant. And I was sure, but each passing day, weakens my resolve. My parents discuss girls, we get marriage proposals, my resolve weakens. I tell my parents that I am ready to marry. Then, I recollect, remember my feelings and strengthen my resolve not to get married – I am the kind of person, if I can’t have what I want, I’d rather have nothing. Nor do I want nothing.
And, along the way, it became necessary for me to understand, and explain to myself – just what the hell is wrong with me, why I am I stuck on you in a way I have never been on anyone?
And today, I realised, you are a very very fascinating woman. For as long as I live, I will continue to observe your life, for now from this uncomfortable familiarity. In future, when you are married (and if I live to see that day), I will be further away. I would not even message you or try to talk to you or anything like that. Please don’t think of me as a perverted stalker. I also don’t mean to imply that you are a lab rat. I am not controlling you or your actions. You are the suns and the moon to me.
Holding on to your memory, I am sure, I’ll cross the Pul-e-Sirat with surprising ease, of that I am sure. I have lived my life as an experiment. I have done exactly what I have wanted – which achieved nothing. I was always made fun of. My friends decided that I looked like a 45 year old person, when I was 21(maybe). It was my third year, and I lost the courage to talk to you. I stopped talking, when I realised that I am being more of a hindrance. One thing about you hurt me, you could have told me that you had a boyfriend. Why did you not? Did you think I would throw a hissy fit? Having to hear it from a friend, it was the most painful experience of my life, far more painful than the above, or failing in maths, or getting academic termination letters(even the first one, the second time I didn’t really care), or really anything else. Even more painful than looking in the mirror and realising that I don’t know the face that stares back at me.
I don’t hold you responsible, or blame you. You were going through life and taking decisions on the basis of what you thought. I take decisions on the basis of what I think. I just think it is such a waste. If I had known how you feel about me, if you had known how I feel about you. Maybe, I could have avoided that. It wasn’t a good feeling. It took me a long time to forgive you.
Now, all I want, is to fascinate you, as you fascinate me.