On the couch I sat waiting for Anjali, it was leather upholstered and had that "hey ! don't touch me" look on it, but I had sat on it nonetheless, and now glared at her as she cantered into the coffee shop, she was late. She had offered to meet me at the coffee shop and it had been a troubled decision for me, "I know this gal, and yet she is so snooted up," I couldn't believe I had agreed. The couch was still troubling me, could be a case of "a sore hiney or more", and the more I thought about it, the more it was. She said, " Hi !" and I said to myself, " damn ! it hurts, my hiney of course." I was in love with Anjali and she didn't care much about it, so much so that she wouldn't think twice about hauling "my sore ass" up to the cleaners literally.
This was a classical dilemma, how often had I seen this happen, " We are just friends", and bang in comes the sex part and the friendship takes a toss, "like a Salad in Olive Oil." I was sure I could handle this better today but these old thoughts kept intruding. I was damn sure I could be only friends with Anjali, but my manhood wouldn't agree, it kept poking me, "Here you go, don't touch me though, remember we are still friends," literally poking me every time I was with her. I had to work this out today or let her go, she on the other hand seemed sure she wanted me as a friend only. "How did she do it ?" wasn't she human, midway through the coffee I decided, I was going to be just her and try and be what she wanted me to be.
My sorry state of affairs, "not including my medical condition", had started some six months back, when I had met her, she beautiful and intelligent, "I was doomed to the OPD", when she said, "Buddy" to me three months later, see we were such good friends she wouldn't want to ruin that for anything, and "that dammit was final" I knew her well enough to know she meant it. I didn't want to quit her company, neither is it easy to stop loving someone, so I was glum faced for most of the winter. The weather matched my mood, gloomy and listless, where normally I was fun to be with, I was thinking inwards now, "like the winds had been blown out my sail."
The conversation, as always, was endless and I was veering around to the idea of loving the conversation more than anything else, "hands off" would be mind philosophy, I would be just her till I died, and "it might be soon," if you continue sitting on this couch my mind snapped back. Being a woman is hard I could see, hardly as easy as a man's attitude, to take whatever he can, plunder and be done, unless caught. But these thoughts were no longer going to be mine.
A Man Wouldn't Think Twice.
This was a classical dilemma, how often had I seen this happen, " We are just friends", and bang in comes the sex part and the friendship takes a toss, "like a Salad in Olive Oil." I was sure I could handle this better today but these old thoughts kept intruding. I was damn sure I could be only friends with Anjali, but my manhood wouldn't agree, it kept poking me, "Here you go, don't touch me though, remember we are still friends," literally poking me every time I was with her. I had to work this out today or let her go, she on the other hand seemed sure she wanted me as a friend only. "How did she do it ?" wasn't she human, midway through the coffee I decided, I was going to be just her and try and be what she wanted me to be.
My sorry state of affairs, "not including my medical condition", had started some six months back, when I had met her, she beautiful and intelligent, "I was doomed to the OPD", when she said, "Buddy" to me three months later, see we were such good friends she wouldn't want to ruin that for anything, and "that dammit was final" I knew her well enough to know she meant it. I didn't want to quit her company, neither is it easy to stop loving someone, so I was glum faced for most of the winter. The weather matched my mood, gloomy and listless, where normally I was fun to be with, I was thinking inwards now, "like the winds had been blown out my sail."
The conversation, as always, was endless and I was veering around to the idea of loving the conversation more than anything else, "hands off" would be mind philosophy, I would be just her till I died, and "it might be soon," if you continue sitting on this couch my mind snapped back. Being a woman is hard I could see, hardly as easy as a man's attitude, to take whatever he can, plunder and be done, unless caught. But these thoughts were no longer going to be mine.
A Man Wouldn't Think Twice.
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