{Note: I resisted the urge to use the 💀 emoji as I wrote this. Weird thoughts popped into my head, but I managed to push them away. Also the above music defines my feelings during this chapter and I hope you listen to the whole song.}
In the midst of all the bad stuff, there were these really great moments with her.
We used to meet every day after school. But one day, she didn't show up. I thought maybe she had already gone home on her scooter, so I went home too. Later, I texted her on Instagram to see if she made it home okay. Turns out, her scooter had broken down that day, and she was super mad at me for not wai ting. Honestly, I had no clue her scooter was acting up, or I would have definitely stayed to help her out.
When I told her I didn't know, she seemed more concerned about me getting home safe. It was strange. I couldn't understand why she cared so much, especially about someone like me who didn't think much of himself.
After all this billshit, she decided to come with me to the school by walking. I gave up my bicycle just to walk with her. Those walks became really special. She'd tell me everything about her day, and I'd just listen. It felt nice; I liked hearing her talk. It was almost like I was her her therapist, who just listens.to her and tell her the solution of her problems. She was shorter than me. She trusted me with her secrets and feelings. She was pretty lonely; her phone showed that she hardly had anyone to talk to, mostly just customer service calls.
One day, she just walk towards me and hugged me so tightly and she cried a little during that. I asked her what happened, she replied that she wanted to thank me to listen to her.
Time passed, and one day, she told me she liked me. I was surprised and asked her why she was so obsessed with me. She even wrote down reasons why she felt that way. She showed it to me, and it made me feel special, like maybe I deserved to be loved.
Her scooter became a big part of our story. She'd drive me to school, and sometimes, I'd drive it, with her teaching me how. The scooter wasn't in great shape, but it carried us through our laughter and talks.
Looking back, this whole experience taught me that love can show up in unexpected places, even when you don't think you're worth it. These memories are a reminder that even ordinary people can mean the world to someone else. Our time together, walking and talking, showed me the beauty of a simple connection in the midst of life's complications.
Those moments with her were like finding a treasure in the middle of a storm. I didn't think I was anyone special, just an average person going through life. But to her, I was more than that. I was someone worth caring for, someone worth loving.
The days we spent walking to school together were like scenes from a movie. It was just a normal walk, but it felt magical. We'd talk about everything under the sun - from what happened in school to our dreams for the future. I cherished every moment of those walks because it made me feel important. It made me feel like I mattered to someone.
Her scooter, despite its worn-out appearance, became a symbol of our bond. Sometimes, she'd drive, and I'd sit behind her, holding on tight as we zoomed down the familiar streets. Other times, I'd take the handlebars, with her patiently guiding me, teaching me how to navigate the roads.
But it wasn't just about the scooter or the walks. It was about the way she looked at me, like I was the most special person in the world. It was about the way she laughed at my silly jokes and listened intently to my stories. In her eyes, I saw something I had never seen before - belief. She believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself. She saw something in me that I couldn't see.
And then, one day, she confessed her feelings. I was taken aback. Why would someone like her, someone so amazing and caring, be interested in someone like me? I couldn't wrap my head around it. So, I asked her, "Why me? Why are you so obsessed with me?"
She didn't hesitate to answer. She took out a piece of paper and started listing all the things she loved about me. It wasn't just physical attributes or shallow compliments. She admired my kindness, my sense of humour. Bonus:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As you can see she used to call me Pushpu (on top right corner of the page) and idiot. She saw the real me, the person I was inside, and she loved that person with all her heart.
Her confession changed something inside me. For the first time, I started to see myself through her eyes. I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, I was worthy of love. It was like a switch had been flipped, illuminating all the dark corners of my self-doubt.
Her scooter, despite its malfunctionimg, became a memorable thing. It showed me that love wasn't about perfection. It wasn't about flashy cars or grand gestures. It was about being there for each other, even when things were falling apart. It was about accepting each other's flaws and embracing them, just like how her scooter accepted its worn-out parts and kept going.
In the end, our story wasn't a fairy tale. It was messy and complicated, full of misunderstandings and insecurities. But it was real. It was raw and honest, and it taught me more about love and self-worth than any grand romance ever could.
Even though she's gone now, the lessons she taught me remain. I still have moments when I doubt myself, when I feel like I'm not good enough. But then, I remember her words, her unwavering belief in me, and it gives me strength. It reminds me that love, in its truest form, sees beyond the surface. It looks deep into the soul and finds beauty in the imperfections.
So, whenever I see a scooter zooming down the street, its engine sputtering and rattling, I smile. Because I know that love, just like that scooter, might have its rough patches, but it's the journey that matters. It's the shared moments, the laughter, the tears, and the endless conversations that make love real. And for that, I'll always be grateful. Grateful for the girl who saw something in me when I couldn't see it myself.
For a couple of months, we kept up with our daily walks until her sister's schedule clashed with ours, forcing us to stop walking home together. At that time, her sister was in the dark about our relationship. Oddly enough, her sister liked chatting with me too, and she fondly called me "Sir." She used this nickname so that she could openly talk about me at home. So, now I had two nicknames, and they combined into "Pushpu Sir." It was a bit of a joke - her sister could casually say she saw "Sir" somewhere just to tease her.
Even though we couldn't walk together anymore, we found a way to still meet. We started meeting behind our apartment buildings since we both lived in the same housing society. During these meetings, our talks became even deeper. She shared everything about her life, and I opened up about almost everything in mine. Our connection grew stronger as we spent more time together, hidden away from the curious eyes of the world.
These secret meetings became a precious part of our routine. Behind those buildings, we found a sanctuary where we could be ourselves, where our conversations flowed freely without any judgment. It was during these moments that I realized the depth of our bond. We could talk about our dreams, fears, and everything in between without any fear of being misunderstood.
Her sister's playful nickname only added to our secret world. It was a reminder of our unique connection and the special place we held in each other's lives. Despite the challenges and the need for secrecy, those behind-the-building meetings became the highlight of my day. They were a testament to the strength of our relationship, proving that love could thrive even in the most unexpected and hidden corners of our lives.
Every night now, I feel terrible, thinking I'm unlovable and that anyone who loves me will end up hurting themselves and leaving...........
