Tuesday, January 27, 2015

I Grew Up Loving A Boy

I grew up loving a boy. He was a brother, a friend, a protector, a cushion to all things harmful. He was my spy to the mysterious boy-world. He was a constant. A daily companion. We walked home together everyday, like that in pocketbooks. Together, we discovered what juvenile love was like – tingly and hurried. And we both assured each other that those we love were the exact people we were going to end up with.

I grew up loving a boy. He did not turn out the way I thought he would. But he was there at every turn of the year.  In every city we moved into we always found a way to bridge the gaps. We randomly popped up in each other’s thoughts. Like that time when he was robbed.,and the only way he could send a letter to the girl he liked was to send it through me. We liked writing letters. And those were the only written contracts of the friendship that was meant to hold out until forever. Whether we liked it or not , we were going to be best friends– that was the binding clause.

I grew up loving a boy. That was the problem. He was a boy. In between random phone calls and failed attempts at love, we found ourselves consciously needing each other. PMS days were no longer threatening. Insecurities had to take a back seat. For years, we have been looking for love elsewhere except in that space between us. And so, we filled up the space with  NBA nights and drawing maps at the back of our hands.Love.

I loved a boy. Who loved outdoors, more than my boring talks. He easily made friends while I watched him from my window. He would drop a popsicle to catch a ball. He was interesting in many ways, entertaining to those who were drawn to his stories. He liked to build castles and dreams. But, he neglected to gather the courage to fight for his dreams…for me. He was but a boy, what did I expect.


I grew up. We grew apart. I loved that boy. 

He is a grown man now. He builds castles and fights for them. Draws dreams and wakes up to make them happen. He will soon sign a contract that says "for better or for worse"- a binding clause. Indeed, no longer a boy. 

I grew up loving a boy. The boy grew up. And that boy no longer loves me. 




p.s. I am so happy I am back to writing. Thank you Lang Leav and Seye. :D