Once upon a time.

Here

Fragments of my fears resulted from all the summer evenings on the front yard of my Mother’s sister’s house 4 hours away from my town.

I’d sit down with my Mother, her sister (my aunt) and her daughter beside the Hibiscus shrubberies and listen to repetitive counsels on the importance of a ‘good’ life partner.

When I was young, my Mother would tell me bedtime stories – Gulliver’s Travels, Little Red Riding Hood, Buddha etc. She would sing lullabies too on many occasions.

Eventually the stories stopped as I grew and they were replaced by ‘vital’ advices every now and then.

It was on a winter night when I sat on the floor facing her on the bed that she told me a story just like the Little Red Riding hood except here, I wore the Red Cape.

She elaborated on the big bad wolf and how I should turn around and run if I ever encountered one.

My Fear then substantiated because I was already in Love with the big bad wolf, and he was beautiful.

Au Revoir

My Father would always buy me anything I wanted and I always wanted Barbie dolls from Mattel.

I like my eyes shielded in makeup, my lips always painted Red, and a set of enormous earrings dangling down my little ears.

I like wearing dresses and heels, but the last thing I am is Fake.

When his flight got rescheduled and almost likely to be cancelled for the next 10 days I told him I was relieved.

Very selfish, Very me.

When he finally flew against all odds I got an abrupt text message.

I coerced a smile through the morbid feeling.

Brutal honesty gets you flattered as being the best girlfriend, who knew?

Hopes underneath the litle lies.

SOURCE

Tonight I’ll be talking to my Father about the vacation that I’m planning on going with KS and his brother. I need his cash and he is not likely to send me off with two boys that are ‘bad influence’. I need a credible excuse (read lie) to deliver, and I'm praying that he doesn’t ask for too many details, he isn’t all that gullible of a parent. So also not my Mother. After that I need to tell Ph and I’m apprehensive about her reaction. She knows about KS and I and pretends like she doesn’t. Because she wants me to believe that she trusts me. After I told her we were only friends and she stopped questioning. Even when there have been numerous instances where she has got a whiff of our liaison. Like one morning she realized I wasn’t home when I had sneaked out to spend the night with Him on the eve of his 21st birthday. It's like we are both waiting for an intervention of some kind, meanwhile faking everything till we get there. A small part of me wishes for her to she ask me just one more time so that I can tell her the truth, of the magnitude of his existence in my life. While the other prominent part is not prepared for any speed bump. Not Yet. And perhaps lying is easier than the possibilities of having being told that this Love is a mistake. My heart wouldn't be able to bear it. You would know.