Our Broken Peices

What Ayesha Thought

Part 9

I ran, ran like I'd just found my way out of prison. I ran till I was far far away from him, from where all this had started, I ran till I reached a place I didn't recognise. I'd begun panting way before I'd begun running. The university felt like a desert in december, like there was sand everywhere, as if I was pacing through a sand storm, struggling to proceed, struggling to even breathe. It was the coldest night, I felt the cold wind sting my skin, and yet I felt numb within, like nothing could affect me, not even a dagger plunged through my chest. Nothing could kill me more than my own actions, my own words that I'd just uttered. I'd been a snake, eaten my own egg, broken the heart of the one I love the most.
Omar, why did he have to do this? I know it was the result of my silent prayers, but I didn't expect them to come true, they never did in my case. So why now? Why today, when there can be no tomorrow? Why was god being so graceful, when I'd accepted defeat with grace. God and I have never been the greatest of allies, haven't quite been his favorite 'child'. Perhaps because, I've been the favorite soldier in his version of chess. Being Indian was never going to be an issue in my love story, for I was never his type. So what if he was Pakistani, it didn't matter because he would never love me, we were just friends, and would always be. I should've known it's a going to be a nasty game the day I fell for him, but I tried keeping my peace, knowing what I was wishing was one of my inconceivable dreams and quite honestly, I was happy the way things were.
Yes, I'd wondered if there could be something more, but then I'd curbed my stupid thoughts, thinking I was no Bollywood heroine and he was no prince charming who would tackle all obstacles, fight all demons and come rescue me. For one, I was just the opposite of the girls he usually ran after, besides I was Indian. But this silly little heart of mine, and all it's unconscious demands. I don't even remember when I ended up sending God a signal to help me, and since when did he start tracking my signals?
Now that my rant and mutter is finally over, I guess I should finally reveal what's left me so restless (Restless? Did I just use that understatement?). Omar is in love with me, or so he says. He says he wants me to be his girl forever, like that's possible. I'm the friend, the boy trapped inside the carcass of a girl. I was the 'buddy' he shared his fag with, the one he'd talk to about hot legs and mighty assets of the 'chicks', and quite shamelessly. So how could he? I mean, did someone tell him about my secret obsession? Or did he smell smoke come out of my ears while he talked about them girls?
I don't know, I don't understand and quite honestly, I don't wish to understand. This is all too complicated for me, and as much as I love him, he can't get any more of me, not even as a friend. Not anymore...
It's better we curb ourselves before any of us slips deeper into this swamp and the other one decides to come after. It's better we kill this demon while it's just a child. It's better we break now than later when none of us might have the strength to collect the broken pieces.