…the Sunday after I met HIM 
 
Hmmm.. When I read his “protest” on the romantic front, it makes me smile. I have this smile on my face, which 

is kinda amused and gentle. If the label causes him so much distress, (gentle smile again) rest assured I shall 

do my darndest never refer to it again. Like I said I could be “thoughtful wishing”. 
 
I don’t think he’s completely insane on wanting to get into these adventure sports. If it makes him happy 

then it makes me happy too. By all means go ahead, only don’t be stupid. I don’t have to tell him about 

coldly calculating the risks. I do think one part of him “looks before it leaps”. ENJOY

 
So I have my little paranoia’s (sharks in buckets) but he must credit me that I have been brave (or foolish) 

enough to initiate contact with him (tee hee). Especially considering that he does encourage people to give 

up on him. 

I think deep inside, one part of him wishes that people would give up on him and another very tiny, secret part 

wants the fortress to be breached, in spite and despite of all the defences he has engineered.
 
I suppose it gives him sadistic pleasure to be cold and cruel and push people away (don’t deny it Sarin. 

He has no conception of how cold he gets) …or maybe he is just too wary and tentative around women – 

kinda something like when a sane man is in an encounter situation with an insane creature. He’s watchful 

and tentative, as if waiting for a bomb to go off and very sure of the creature’s unpredictable ness. 

Hmmm? I don’t know really. I’m no expert. I think I’m wrong again on all counts. Sigh.
 
I could be completely misreading him.  The fact is he really doesn’t give a damn.
 

I’d like to have a look at his handwriting. I wonder if it’s a scribble or a scrawl. A neat 

controlled print or does it keep changing dramatically with his mood. But then again he is 

not volatile and moody like me. I wonder. I wonder.  If he is insistent on putting his full 

stops (even when he writes his name “Sarin.”) then he should also dot his ‘I” and cross his “t”. 

But I wonder….
 

I met him. I could have stood by his side for half and hour and he would not have 

realised it was me.  That in itself says a lot.  Actually I should’ve mentioned what I would be wearing… 

so as to identify each other. Unfortunately, I generally don’t know what I would be wearing 

until I was wearing it!  Anyways we met. 
 

Yes, he could easily pass for a college kid. One part of him revels in that disguise and another 

wishes he looked completely different.  Hmmm. Interesting. 
 
And he stares. He was extremely disappointed and shocked but I thought I had warned him.  

I was extremely uncomfortable with him staring at me. Maybe he thinks I am the most 

ugly specimen from Uranus.  As a result my conversation kinda dried up.  

I kinda trailed away and went flat coz he stares so intently. 

I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO THE STARING. HE WENT AND BROKE ANOTHER RULE.  waaaaaaa
 
It wasn’t so bad. Me being there or not did not seem to make any difference to him. 

I could have been his backpack for all the attention he gave me.  

For all intents and purposes HE WAS ALONE, quiet with himself, in himself. 
 
And the problem with me is that I cannot keep my mouth shut!  Girl you are NEVER gonna 

be described as ‘restful’, ‘peaceful’, ‘calming’ or for that matter ‘charming” even. Cry cry.
 
I don’t think he finds me intriguing any more. There IS no mystery about me. 

Like I keep telling people, I am simple. Simple minded even.