My Empty Cup of Love

For my cup of love, cupid has always been unfair. I don’t think it is a good thing to blame that stupid, innocent, little, semi-naked infant with bow and arrow. Kids love pranks, don't they? But whom should I blame then? He made a prank with my life! Why is it that he hit that arrow hard to me but not to her? Why is that I always get struck hard but not her?

It all started with that pretty little smile of hers. I tried to defend myself from that. And yes dear cupid, I tried to run away from your arrow too. But you ignorant infant! You would not want my happiness right? You pulled that bow hard and that arrow went down piercing my heart. That wasn’t a big deal for you, was it?

And why were you so revengeful. Just because I had no belief in you; you pulled the bow only once! You intentionally did not hit her with that arrow right? Damn! Why should not I blame you? Why could you leave me like that cupid? Why did you want to tear me apart? What about her? Wasn’t she supposed to fall in love, too?

It was her smile that took it all. No. It was not that Love at first sight kind of thing.  I did not fall for her very first smile. But eventually, that smile started to act toxic! My heart started thudding at small curves on her chocolate lips and I took more than average breathe with flashing of her single filed teeth. The strands of her hair falling through her forehead fluttered in even the smallest of the zephyr. Her rosy cheeks glowed with every small things that delighted her.

Yes. I adored every part of her. Her twinkling pairs of fairy blue eyes with nerdy pairs of spectacles were just the perfect ones which I could die watching. Those eyes were the mirrors through which I wanted to behold this world. They shone each time she talked about John Lenon, Nirvana, Leonardo Di Caprio or Johnny Depp. Her hair. Even superman would throw away his cape envying her that pitch black, long shining cluster. Her rosy pink cheeks were ones you could not leave without taking notice of.

Too much of my blabbering right? But I could die describing her. Okay. Straight to the point. I guess that it was the first time she took notice of me. I was on the stage, representing college for poetry. Judges and my guides called me glossophobic, but little did they know, she was there at the 7^th row of chairs with a sweet little smile, applauding for me! How could I even speak a word when she was applauding for me? Dews and leaves were not the sole things to fall that day, my heart fell for her presence, for her smile, for her eyes, FOR HER.

Anyways, that poetry thing had good effect. Little did she started noticing me, and smiles were exchanged from the very next day. Yeah, that meant a lot. When those smiles were exchanged without even a word spoken, my heart banged. Like you know, my heart was the drum, veins were the string of guitar and blood was the crowd- pumping me up. And for that pretty little smile, I started to feel, cupid will hit it to her too. But, his mischief, god knows.

I would stroll around her, hoping for her to notice me, or at least tug her hair behind her ears while walking past me. But, I never had guts to talk to people. Being reserved had its own demerits. Besides, who would want to talk to a worthless, umm, how do I put it gently? A potato? Umm a worthless weird guy sounds better. Yes! Who would want to know about a worthless potato like me right?

I would run down to the ground as soon as the bell for third period rang, to watch her graceful descend through the stairs with that trademark twinkling eyes and nerdy pair of glasses in front of them. I would keep a secret eye on her and those mere five minutes gave me sheer happiness. If she would not be present in college, I would wreak low.  And for those sometimes she noticed me noticing at her, I would just give my nervous smile and pretended to be busy on some other vacuum job or simply run away to class.

Time flows and flows fast. Ha! It flowed at more than average rate for me. I don’t know how I did it, but I started talking to her. Though it be virtual, I had been more than happy at every single smile emoticon she sent and shed tears at every live curve down emoji she sent me. I would go angry with that frown emoji and laugh out loudest with every LOL of hers. I soon discovered that it was not her physical presence I loved, it was her soul I fell for. The flames in my eyes gave a little hint that I wanted to feel her love. My emotions were not able to shape themselves nor were they ready to get suppressed. But, after all it was virtual talk. The screen I shared with her became my favourite place on this whole universe.

I asked her about the ones she loved, her favourite colors and let her guess mine. You know what- she guessed it right- black! But before she guessed it, I did not even have any of such. I imagined of that pair of fairy eyes twinkling for her guess coming true and thought of her exiting smile. So I told her she was right and after that, I haven't seen black the same since. That color seems to be everywhere.

I asked her of her favourite singer- and now, my playlist is full of John Lenon and Nirvana songs. I asked her of her favourite actor and now Leonardo Di Caprio and Johnny Depp fill my movie collection. I slept late to wish her goodnight and woke up faster to wish her a good morning. An unreplied text of hers left me gloomy for whole time and jumped with joy after the same text got a smile emoji after short 25 hours.

It was nearly two weeks of talking. My feelings were down on my diary for umpteenth time. I had written more poems for her than in anyone or anything else. I had sketched several stories with her name and tuned my guitar several times in her tone. I finally gathered the utmost of my courage and went on my knees to ask for her heart (it was virtual), and like in the most of the stories from boy's side, it was over.

But even now, I am for her. Every single giggle she shares with some other guy, I feel sad for not hearing that honey-coated giggle, or laughter. I still run down after the second period like I am missing my train and watch your descend just like a starving one looking at a plate full of food. I still love your smile the same way and your nerdy pair of spectacles the same. I still hope for you to be mine. There are things which are next to impossible. This is one of them. There is a different pleasure in loving someone who doesn’t love you back. This pleasure is a mixture of pain, obsession, and anger- all second cousins of love.She said she was never to be in such things, and cupid had not done this good. And I have no regrets or complaints with anyone except for cupid, for playing such a horrible prank on me.