Whom am I trying to impress?

It’s late midnight; I mean early morning. I am still on the couch, I cannot go to bed. An undefinable sense of restlessness has been growing within me since this evening. The orange street light is penetrating through my curtains. It looks beautiful on my wall.

Instead of romanticising its beauty, I am crying. Despite its beauty, the light reminds me of the orange glow on the wall of my house; the same glow that glistened over my blissful evenings with him, the same glow that stayed together with me during my hard times with him. It is that beautiful orange glow that now reminds me of him. The glow that was serenity to me before has now become an eerie recurrence, almost avoidable.

I regret.

I ruined the evening. I am a party animal; a gregarious beast. How the room had roared with laughter.

Some of my jokes were really working out pretty well. All my friends were gelling in together, but I broke it, suddenly.

A dreary gloom had come upon me, and I had ruined it for everyone. I wonder now…How could I have broken it? I mean it’s possible to break glass, hearts, promises, or even silence…But how had I managed to ‘break’ a party?

I’m sure ‘break’ isn’t the right word. May be ‘interrupt’ would’ve been a better choice. But I didn’t really interrupt it either. I just sat there silent, like a rock. Ironic…not a rock exactly, let’s stay a stone. The gloomy expression on my face must have been the real kill-joy.

It wasn’t because I’d lost the poker game. Of course not! I am not a bad loser. That was just a game for me. I know it’s natural to win and lose in any game. It must’ve been the song that created the melancholy environment. No, the songs were good, but the memories attached to them…it was just that the song rustled my memories. That’s it. No, no. It must’ve been the result of that extra glass of beer that I’d gulped down, or let’s say the extra bottle. But how can anyone get drunk on beer? Well…I guess people simply can.

How can I forget? It was also because of that guy that reminded me of him.

Why did he say that? How could he have told me to not be sure of the relationship…that anything might happen? Will my boyfriend leave me just like my ex did? Of course not! He won’t ditch me. He is always nice to me. Now is that something to be worried about…a sign perhaps? Do we need to fight to ‘spice up’ our relationship? Is he getting bored? Or am I getting bored? I am not! But why did I start missing my ex all of a sudden at the party? Is it because we used to fight and that kept our relation interesting?

It still hurts; the way we broke up really does hurt. I must have carried around this hurt with me for long. No wonder I could feel the pain at that precise moment; it had finally found an outlet to flow. I have locked myself in a room in this unknown house, and am drinking wine now. I am conscious that there are people outside. A lot of them are getting wasted, many trying to impress pretty ladies, many trying to charm others with their talk, and some—those I can hear right outside the door—seem curious about why I’ve left the party and locked myself in.

Do I miss him? Of course not! I have fled a hundred miles away from him, a thousand perhaps. I don’t really know, but I’m sure I’m pretty far from his shadow. I am perfectly fine here. Wait, I know that horn. That’s my boyfriend’s car. But how can he be here? He was at a meeting, at work. Let me draw this curtain, and take a look. It is him! They must have called him. Why though..? I’m perfectly fine.

I should go outside and tell everyone I am fine, and that they must not get worried. I should make an excuse, tell them that I was a bit dizzy and wanted fresh air. Well, fresh air? In a locked room? Impossible! Maybe I should tell them I needed more space; that I needed some time by myself. But a gregarious animal like me, do I really need some time alone? Well they might think that I don’t, but I do need to be by myself at times. Everybody does. But no one will do what I did at this party. I feel stupid. I shouldn’t have rushed into this room. It was a bad idea.

I am not going out right now. Let me wait for a while. I can hear my boyfriend calling me. Poor soul, he’d be devastated if he knew whom I am missing right now. He has gone through a lot of that. Poor guy, he’s dealt with my past. Finally, things are going better with us, and I don’t want him to think that I’m still going nuts about my ex. Of course not! He’s been a real sweetheart.

He has supported me throughout, and loved me, and given me the attention I deserve. I don’t want to lose him. He knows me really well. But he knows me! He knows me too well! He probably knows why I’ve locked myself in here.

When he gets to me, he’ll get annoyed, and angry. My friends might believe my ridiculous excuses, but he won’t. He will know—he knows! What should I do? I don’t want to lose him. I love him!

Maybe I should make a sad face so that he feel’s sympathy, even pity for me. Yes, everyone will sympathise; so will he. That will do. I will just stay here a bit longer. I am still in tears though. Even after all this thinking? But what am I crying for? For my ex? Of course not! For me? But why? For my poor betrayed heart? Or for the terror I feel at the thought of me losing the person I love

right now? Now just cut it off! I am not crying. I don’t feel sorrow at all! I know I’ve only been pretending; but what for? Whom am I trying to impress? My ex? My friends? My boyfriend? Or You?

- Anustha Shrestha