I don’t know why I was so attracted to her. She wasn’t the kind with whom you enjoyed being pals. She was not very brainy, for starters. Nor was she the humorous, lively sort. Rather she was a gloomy person and was forever sulking. She never laughed at jokes, neither did she crack any of her own. In a nutshell, she was what one would call a ‘bore’- easily the most ‘un-cool’ persona I’d come across. Conversely, I was the pleasant, jolly, funny sort. You could tell me anything that was troubling you and I would cheer you up and simultaneously try to find a solution to it. So, under natural circumstances, anyone would say our personalities were so astoundingly opposed that we were practically like chalk and cheese. But, I liked her. I wanted to strike a friendship with her while the others didn’t even bother to converse with her. I worshipped her while others turned their heads away in disgust. I…. I was attracted to her……why, I don’t know. I only know that she was the first and only person I’d idolised to such an extent. I am at a loss of words to describe my feelings for her. My love for her is unrequited. She was my angel,…my dream-buddy…my soul-mate. No, I did not dare ask her to be my friend- I was too cowardly for that. What if she rejected me? That very fear of rejection kept me from making my move. I was haunted by her day and night. I HAD to express my feelings, confide in someone. And that someone could only be her..… I mustered enough courage to talk to her- and this time she would listen to what I had to say. "Hello, Crystal. What’s up? Did you…. make any friends so far? I…..I…I wanted to say I would like to be your friend. Would…..would…you…?" I held my breath. What would she say? Would her response be positive? Or negative? I waited for an answer. I did not get one straight away. Instead Samantha stared at the ground with a blank expression, as if in a trance, and then…then she ran away……sobbing…
To be continued.Note: The story which appeared in the last issue was terminated due to unfortunate circumstances. (read as writer’s block)
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