Dyspeptalk #7.

We were sitting at the cafeteria, in a mall, right across the booth where you get a message for 80 bucks or have your feet nibbled on by a shoal of fish for 30, when I told you there more to love than just loving.

By now, we could be two timezones, eight seas and forty seven skyscrapers away, and I’d still tell you when my cigarette smells like puke after a terrible day of rains or when I peed in my pants because there was no one watching.

You ask me, why my tongue tasted like rust when I kissed the other girl I was on a date with, and I’d tell you all old keys taste rusty when their locks are thrown away or lost after a year of being a paper weight.

I’d tell you parents don’t force their kids into professions they’ve learnt to respect because it pays more, because they don’t love their kids.
It’s because there is a fear more crippling than the fear of indecision, and that’s the fear of insecurity.

I’d tell you there was a friend who had the courage to stand in front of a moving train so his thoughts were travelling 110 kilometres per hours across two states while his body was found in three, but didn’t have enough courage to face the insecurity of being alone again.

I’d tell you how my cousin has stopped watching family movies but instead wakes up at 2 in the night with a dull headache and a suicide help hotline number on his speed dial since he took up his new job because he was tired of being insecure about his future.

I’d tell you how I cry some days under the shower and masturbate under my blanket because I’m afraid of being insecure about finding you again.

What you should know, darling, is that people are afraid of their insecurities, and its not a pretty sight to see, and I don’t know whether the weather forecast shall be stormy or sunny today, or whether your favourite football team will win another league this year.

What you should know, darling, is that if I wake up tomorrow beside you on our crumpled bed, and if we still smell of goodnights, I’d let your fingers close around my palm, and I’d go to sleep again.

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