It’s been almost Seven and a half years since I saw Doctor for the first time. If you interpret this fact mathematically, I’ve been smitten with her for about half my life. It’s a rather interesting turn of events, and maybe it’s the fault in our stars, ours has been an epic story of constant battles and nasty scars and numerous ends and awful tragedies and unrequited love and un-understood emotions somehow forgiven and forgotten, or eclipsed by this weird bond we seem to share. She’s the fire that lights up my world. I don’t even know why I’m writing this – maybe because I want to tell the whole world about this amazing girl I’d the chance to encounter, observe, lose, and discover; or maybe I am sleepless and sad and it’s 1:22 am and I’m missing her like crazy.
We have been together for so long now that I can imagine her expressions everytime she types a word. I know she likes rain, and adores Decembers; I know exactly how many teeth she’s got and what’s her blood group; I know she loves hugging her Rabbits and sending me the-duck-with-his-head-in-commode. I know she’s a book monster who cannot stop reading happily-ever-afters for the love of God. I know that she loves kids but hates the thought of mothering one. I know that she’s reckless and clumsy, but also smart and beautiful; and I know she’s too good for guys around her.
We’ve fought a lot. It’s no less than a miracle that we are still talking. The tough times in our story have been hopelessly dreary ones, but somehow, we are always back, biting each other’s head off. Maybe we need each other – to talk to, to snap at, to crack jokes at, to get away from, to run back to. To find solace and turbulence in a single soul. To keep getting back to the same place where the earth consists of just two people bitching about the world, sharing something more than a mere array of words. To find comfort that nowhere else exists. And perhaps that’s why we are still talking, because we need to, or the world would collapse.
She’s witty and fun and superinteresting and you never get bored talking to her. You only crave for more; I sometimes wish she were a cyborg who didn’t have to sleep or eat or concentrate on the slate or book while teaching her brother. We’d have kept talking all the time had our lives not been separated by these worldy traps. Still, we find time to share lame jokes and memories and views and troubles and joys and it’s more than perfect.
If she reads this, she’ll find it awkward. But anyway, I need to write this.
There are some people you just can’t have enough of. She’s one fascinating event in my life I want to witness again and again. I don’t know how long we’re going to hang around, but however long it goes, it’ll be etched in my heart forever.