I Like Him, I Like Him Not

So, there’s this guy in my office. I kinda, sorta like him. I think he likes me too. The only problem is that I think he likes me more than I like him. This is a problem I often face. I like guys, but not so much that they’re all I think about.

At first, I thought this guy, S, and I wouldn’t mesh. He seemed too conservative, too “South Indian”. But then today, we bonded over our mutual love of a particular TV show. We talked about our opinion on Hindu – Muslim weddings. After today, he seems a bit more compatible with me. But only a bit, mind you.

So, here’s my dilemma. Should I encourage him when he flirts with me, or should I nip this in the bud? Should I flirt back just because we like the same things, or should I act more friendly, less flirty with him? Or am I overthinking this whole thing? Should I just go with the flow?

S doesn’t make my head spin, so I can’t really like him that much, can I? Or maybe this is what crushes feel like once you’re an adult? Maybe they are not as intense as teenage crushes. Maybe the kinda love you read about in books and watch in movies – the kind which makes the blood boil in your veins, which makes your heart pump frantically, which is all consuming and passionate – only exists in books and movies. Or am I confusing lust with love?

I wish there was a way to tell if this is the real deal.

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Nothingness

Sometimes I feel like I’m floating aimless in a sea, not interested in the who’s and what’s around me. All that I’m aware of are me and my thoughts. Sometimes there isn’t even that. I stare blankly into space and there is not a single thought going through my mind. It’s like I’m being pulled into a vacuum and my thoughts are in limbo, not fully formed, impossible to decipher. Sometimes I think there is something wrong with me. No, I know there is something wrong with me. Normal people have thoughts, opinions, interests, emotions. Normal people care.

I used to be one of those normal people. I wanted to be a writer. I dreamed of changing the world with my words. I dreamed of finding love. I had an opinion on anything and everything. I cared. Now? Not so much. I probably wouldn’t give two shits if a car accident or something took my life right now. I’ve become lazy, uninspired, complacent. I can’t find inspiration in anything. I don’t yearn for love anymore. I am content with solitude and I am only twenty two!

When I do interact with people, it’s superficial. I don’t – I can’t open up. There is a wall around me no one seems to be able to break down. Not that I want anyone to. They would find nothing good in there.

I’m constantly trying to put some distance in between myself and my family – the only people who have, I believe, ever loved me. And that’s probably only because we’re family.

I don’t understand me. Is this a phase I’m going through? If this is an existential crisis that I am going through, then I have been going through it for the past six years.

All I know is that I am discontent. I want more. But I don’t know what I want. Even though my life is anything but empty, all I see, hear and feel is nothingness.

Relationships are not for me

I’m starting to think I don’t have a single romantic bone in my body. I mean, I’m a girl, for God’s sake! I’m supposed to be graceful and gentle and loving and kind and patient, aren’t I? I’m supposed to get excited about the prospect of marriage, right? I’m supposed to be over the moon about having kids and raising them, right?

Oh, but I am not.

The idea of me having children is repulsive to me. I mean, I can’t even take care of myself. How can I be expected to take care of some other life? I’ll probably be a shitty parent. And I don’t want to be a shitty parent. Cause I have a shitty parent and I know how much it sucks growing up with one.

And don’t even get me started on boys. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve had a crush – at least three years I think. And when a guy does express some sort of interest in me, I run away. The thought of committing myself to a relationship scares me. Because I know I’m fickle. I know I change my mind faster than I change my nail color.

See, I’m no great and terrible beauty. But I can be considered cute in a petite sorta way. And guys seem to like petite-and-cute. Maybe they think petite-and-cute is harmless. Maybe they think petite-and-cute equals sweet-and-naive. I don’t know. I don’t pretend to understand guys. The truth is I am neither sweet nor naive. I care about no one but me. I am a cruel, selfish bitch.

For example, there is this incredibly sweet guy, let’s call him Sam, in my office who seems to like me. And although I don’t return the sentiment, I flirt with him. I know it is bitchy of me and I know I’ll never like him that way, but I still can’t help myself. I want him to like me that way. I’m fake-flirty not just with Sam, but with every guy who seems to be interested in me. I want every guy to want me, so I lead them on.

But.

There is another guy at my office, Sean. Ever since I met him, I’ve been having thoughts about giving this whole relationship thing a go. He is sweet, cute and seems like a good guy. But I don’t want to end up hurting him. I don’t want to toy with him while my interest lasts and then throw him away.

I wouldn’t say I have a crush on Sean. The word ‘crush’ brings to my mind the time I felt giddy and light-headed because that guy with the cute smile passed me in the hallway in my school. I don’t feel giddy when I’m around Sean. It’s been a while since I’ve felt giddy around anyone.

I’m intrigued by Sean. I wonder if I will start acting like a normal girl I get into a relationship with Sean. Because Sean seems like perfect boyfriend material. He is Cameron from 10 Things I Hate About You. He is Pete from Win A Date With Tad Hamilton. He is Cal from Crazy, Stupid Love. He is Tom Hansen from 500 Days of Summer.

Which is exactly why I should tread lightly. He is the archetypal nice guy and I don’t want to break his heart like Summer broke Tom’s.

Do Indian Girls Play Air Guitar?

WARNING: This posts includes discussion of sex and masturbation. For those who claim to be easily offended by such things, I would tell you to not read this, but let’s face it. I know you want to read it and I know you’re going to, you lying hypocrite.

So, I was thinking about which euphemism for female masturbation I should use in the title and the only one I could come up with was “double clicking the mouse”. Yeah, I know. “American Pie?” Really? So, I did what anyone in my position would have done – I Googled “euphemisms for female masturbation”. And Google, my ever so trusty friend, didn’t fail me. Hidden amongst the many ludicrous ones, there were some truly funny ones like “buffing the bonnet”, “flicking through the furry purse”, “exploring the cave of infinite wisdom”,  “fingering the culprit”, “sitting on the washing machine”, “beating around the bush”, “scratching where it itches”, “the magical disappearing finger trick” and some which appealed to the geek in me like “going hands-solo” and “getting chummy with dildo baggins”. There were some which applied to both men and women like “getting to know yourself”, “having sex with someone you love” and “taking advantage of yourself” and even one hilariously irreverent one – “parting the Red Sea”. But I went with “playing air guitar” because, hey, it’s so funny I LOL-ed.

So, anyway. Yeah. Female masturbation. A topic I have never heard any Indian girl or guy discuss openly. Even I am not discussing it openly, am I? I’m hiding behind a frigging computer screen. But whatever. Maybe a day will come when I will finally grow some balls (figuratively, of course). In the meantime, allow me to hide behind my computer screen and tell you my feelings on sex/masturbation.

There are three reasons as to why I jerk off:

1. because I’m horny. And I’m especially horny around the time my monthly visitor comes a-knocking.

2. because I’m bored. This happens a lot.

3. because I’m stressed out or depressed. This happens whenever I have too much work on my hands or when I’m having an existential crisis.

And, jerking off cures me of my horniness, boredom, depression and stress every single time. So, why do some people frown upon something which, in my opinion, is doing what therapy and meds have failed to do?

First, there are religious reasons. I don’t know about Hinduism, but according to Christianity, jerking off is a sin. And Islam goes one step further and proclaims that it is okay for dudes to wack off as long as they fantasize that they are doing it with slave girls and not respectable women, but it is NOT okay for girls to wack off at all. I’m not an expert on the Koran or anything, but I read about this on some Islamic Q&A website some time back and I’m too lazy to dig the page up.

I think this would be the right time for me to divulge a secret.

Psst, hey you, come here! I’m a Muslim!

At least, I was born a Muslim. I’m not a practicing Muslim. Therefore, I have no religious qualms about jerking off.

Then, there are cultural reasons. We live in a country where a woman’s virginity is believed by both sexes to be the highest virtue she possesses; where a woman’s goodness is determined more by how unused her vagina is and less by how kind or intelligent she is. Women are expected to shy away from the topic of sex. Women are expected to be coy. Women who are open about their sexuality are labelled as shameless.

Don’t tell me this isn’t true because this happened to me. In college, one of the girls in my class called me shameless because I discussed sex with my best friend. I had a friend in high school who didn’t like to look at her own naked body. She was shocked when I told her I had fifteen moles on various parts of my body.
Would such girls be okay with touching themselves? I doubt it. If you’re an Indian girl who buffs her bonnet, I salute you, ma’am.
Is it so unthinkable for a girl to want to have sex? I mean, just because our privates aren’t external doesn’t mean we don’t get horny.
Yeah, I’m still a virgin. But at this point, I’m so sick of all this that my virginity feels more like a burden than a gift. I don’t want to marry while I’m still a virgin. And right now, I’m not even holding out for an awesome guy to have sex with. I just want a guy I’m attracted to, a non-creepy kind of guy who wouldn’t post a video of our tryst for all the Internet population to see. I haven’t met such a guy yet, but when I do, I’m jumping his bones.
Until then, I’ll be playing air guitar on my own.
(And if this post is incoherent or has spelling or grammar errors, I apologize. This was an unpremeditated post of passion.)