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14 November 2015

Yeah  I really adored her. Her off-shoulder dress, that tattoo which goes on her right shoulder blade, her hair tied in a messy bun, her white pale arms wearing those chunks of bracelet. Her walk, just so mesmerizing. Sometimes, I try to be like her. Cool they say. Sexy they name. True to all the adjectives used for her. She is an independent source.

Her biggest weakness, is Weed. Yeah right, she is just so addicted to it. Now, I won’t go on the details of how weed spoils our brain cells, or its a drug or any such thing, cause I never experienced it and I, I mean, I don’t know. I have distanced myself from all these shoddiness I guess.

So, she was pretty much drunk and high on weeds too. And her only escape route was me. So I took her up the stairs, as she held me as tight as she could. Up in my room, she flung herself on my bed and what I thought was a laugh turned into a sob. She was crying. The desired fantasy of every guy, the strongest and boldest one was broken. She called me out, and brought her face near me. Every breath of hers was suffocating me.

“You know, they all want me. But nobody’s there when I want them Nobody comes for me when I am high with fever. I don’t have a family. I mean, I have a mother who doesn’t care for my father, a broken , you know, completely shattered family. No siblings. Just a lone girl, who is desired for her actions. Nobody loves the real me, they love the wild me. I am , I am not like this from the inside. I am not a loser. See, see, I have this tattoo which says, Lonely Life Goes, this symbolizes my f***ing Life. I am not a drunky, I am not a weedy, I am a human. I am Me. I am..”, she stammered and puked as I held her head and hand.

” My coolness hides my agony, my dress hides the cuts and wounds I give myself, my tattoo speaks my mind, but all they see is that I look gorgeous. You my babe, you are forever to stay. Hahaha.. I am a poet, an artist too, I draw my emotions on the canvas of my heart”.

The whole night she cried as she spoke of her devastated state. For once, the most desired girl, seemed just like any other girl, a normal being inflicted with pain. She was not very different from me.

That day, both of us realized that, we need not pretend to be someone else in front of each other. I was a freak, and she was a lone. Both of us were meant to be friends. Our wavelengths, living, thinking, freaking everything were right in unity.

Its been a year now, this stupid girl, she is my best friend. That cigar butt, still held tight, but now its a habit, which I am soon gonna get her out of.  But what has changed is the smile, as she walks with me, wearing that silly bandanna and my yellow frock, which I used to wear about an year ago and be tagged as a wierdo.

“Girl ! where were you all this while. Life is awesome with you. Lets get a new tattoo, which would read, Inspired by a Freak, oops sorry, hope you don’t mind” , she said as we climbed the stairs to my apartment.

“As long as the cigar stays out and away from you, I don’t mind anything”, I said, snatching it away and crushing it.

“Yeah ! Darling, we gonna drink now, enough with weed today” , she grinned idiotically.

As I write this note, she sleeps on my bed with a smile of satisfaction, as if life had given her all she wanted. All this while hiding her pain, she walked with pride to get a life, but once she is high, all this goes in vain. How long can one fake what is not his’s, she just gave me a lesson .

” Before you try living somebody else’s life, know that none’s life is perfect. Problems exist with all, maybe some can hide them too well, but learn to face and tackle them. A friend might just help “

I guess, I just helped her with depression, and she got me a trustworthy company. Mutual one. LOL