Cupid never had a chance in their messy, parental-restricted love story
Karishma Jha, a twenty-one-year-old recent graduate with the world at her feet if only she chose to face it. Plagued with the worries of the future and yet healing from the scar...
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"This is what you wanted. This is what you wanted," I repeated in my mind as Rishabh passed me with yet another polite smile pasted on his face in our suite.
It had been two weeks since I told him to keep his distance if he couldn't manage his feelings. And he was performing quite well on that promise. The only problem was when I had made that request I was thinking more along the lines of- 'Out of sight, out of mind' and not 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder.'
Not that Rishabh had left the hotel. He was still here, but still not at the same time.
And it was worse than I had expected.
There were so many times that I caught myself turning my head to the side or extending my phone to show a funny reel or pointing at something random just to meet with empty air. And a wave of disappointment washed over me every freaking time.
A heavy feeling sat in my chest that made it impossible to take a full breath.
I cursed myself for getting so used to his company in such a short span of time and I cursed him for making me feel so.
Being on my own for a better part of the last decade or so, this feeling of dependency almost felt like an invasion of the independent life I had built.
Feeling so desperate was driving me crazy.
It wasn't very conducive, keeping me in a funky mood throughout. Either I spaced out or became hyper-focused on any task, going to any length to prove myself that there was nothing amiss.
I was so out of sorts that those around me started to notice it as well.
"You and Rishabh didn't make up yet?" Kashish kneeled down next to me as I was decorating the backdrop for the Haldi ceremony with garlands of yellow and orange marigolds.
"Why do you ask?" I asked back trying to get out of answering her question.
She shrugged. "You are as antsy as the detached tail of a lizard and he is roaming around like a, well, tailless lizard."
Her answer made me make a face and I threw some of the flowers from the basket at her.
"It feels wrong to see you two under the same roof but not side by side."
I frowned at the ground. I felt the same even though I didn't want to feel it.
"Well, you saw me without him for the past twelve years and will do so again once his gala is over and he takes off again. There's nothing "wrong" in it,' I said breezily, making quotation marks in the air with my fingers.
"What can I say? Some people just complete us," she got up and walked away before I could say something.
I glowered at her retreating back, not on board with the idea of not being whole on my own. I just needed someone who would lend me a shoulder to rest my head against when the day gets too much.
