I don’t know whether I just need a hand to hold,
or whether I am just enough for myself.
I don’t know whether I long for someone like me,
or I long for being with my own self.
I’ve waited for long but whom am I waiting for?
Is it the one who’s hiding behind the mirror or one who dosent exist.
I don’t know whether my lover is on the other side,
or I just need a companion.
this longingness, this loneliness,
is a companion for now.
for the DAILY POST of today- Companion
I got to go, she said in that gentle manner she usually says. He had come to know quite early about her manner and behavior. He saw her from behind and kept looking at her like that. He had met so many girls in his lifetime, but Kiara had something special about her, something that Andrew could not explain but still was pulled towards her by the string of attraction. The only old thing was that that Andrew had had this feeling many a times. It was not the first time that Andrew was finding someone who is different from others, the feeling that he had not met someone like the particular girl he was getting attracted to in his lifetime and Kiara was no different. She was just a sweet student of Ryan High School. Not so popular, not so social, just a short heighted introvert girl. Andrew was four years older to her and this was the second time he was meeting Kiara as it was her second day to the guitar class. Andrew was not new to the guitar class. He had been learning guitar for about three months now but he still couldn’t play that well. Each time he would start playing a song and some or the other note would go wrong just ruining the beauty of the song. Andrew had got tired of everything that he did. Each time he tried and each time he failed. No one thought him capable of anything anymore. His reputation among his friends, among his neighbors, among his relatives was ruining day by day. He therefore started involving himself in so many things in the hope that he may be able to do at least one of them with precision. He had failed in the very first year of his college. He had got nothing except disrespect from his family and friends because of his failure. He couldn’t sleep at nights. He couldn’t work at day. He failed to make a single girlfriend due to his reputation while most of them had found their first love and for some of them it was just a casual affair. They didn’t mind changing girlfriends. Even girls did not settle for one prince charming. They wanted more variety. He maintained his diary where he wrote about each and every happening and incident. But, later he tore it off and burned it. He couldn’t deal with the trauma of failure but he had to do something about it. Besides the guitar, he was also learning a new language and was also learning swimming. He had his whole day packed in classes. He would attend one class, then another, then another. The hours in between of it passed in commuting from one class to another. His Spanish class was at the other end of the city. Swimming class was near to his home and the guitar class at the other end. He was not doing college anymore. He had dropped out from the course he was doing as he was least interested in pursuing it and then failing it in the first year had further led him to quit it rather than suffering from the guilt of not being able to pass. Under confidence had taken its toll. Even talking to a person would make him think that he or she will not find him good. But he never thought of ending his life though his life had come to a perpetual end where he had gone aimless of what he was doing and why he was doing. He would just think and hope for the good days to come. Kiara also seemed somebody or someone who would just go out of his life without ever entering in it and he would keep looking at her. He would have no one and he would be a nobody or may be not. Is he still doing right by doing multiple things or he needs to think of something else when he has already failed in one, the one he just took without any reason though he knew he was weak at the subject. It was a course in maths. Now the maths of his life is aimless.
DAILY POST. 🙂
There’s always this dilemma,
of being the best,
or just not caring about it anymore,
to just be reckless.
The introspection and scrutiny,
of what is there and what is not,
What is it that I deserved a lot,
and what I actually got,
and then keeping my fingers crossed.
The perfect coffee,
the perfect kiss,
the best poem,
Is it what it actually is?
A blend of stress,
a taste of under confidence,
of not succeeding,
with flying colors.
A sense of drowning,
And then remembering,
the past failures,
the past successes,
the challenges crossed,
asking again Am I PERFECT?
In response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/perfection/
My first try at writing something for the daily post. I hope you like it. 🙂