She came to me one night. Soaked in sweat, in that expensive silver dress of hers. Ofcourse it was a love affair gone wrong. We had all known it was going wrong. So why the hassle now. Cause a connection when breaks, pains. Irrespective of the fact that the connection was real or only perceived. The thin sheath lifts its veil to bare its grotesque fangs of loneliness and hatred and tons and tons of hollow memories. Memories that occupy a major part of Your brain and are of no worth and bring only stinging sour taste of throbbing hurt. But I was drawn to that silver sequinned dress. Something was off about it.
Ok. Ok. Am a girl, I know. But it wasn’t like a fashionista that I was interested in that piece of clothing. But something deep set in my sub conscious. It was calling out…err.. she spilled the entire glass of vodka on my bed. She later said she had fainted. I think she was only trying to get my attention. But what would I know right? I am an ordinary looking girl jealous of a pretty girl in a silver dress and bronze hoop earrings. I didn’t hate her. I just didn’t like her. But she needed me. And I needed to get my mind off the fact that the guy I had texted an hour back hasn’t yet called back(as always, I was incapable of dating). So I sat down to appease her ailing heart.
“So, what did he say?”
An unnatural high pitched wail.
“Oh..umm..am sorry. Its ok You don’t have to share. You know. He ofcourse was an ass!”
More wailing. My ear nearly gave up.
“Ok he wasn’t. It just wasn’t meant to be maybe”
This time she actually looked at me while sobbing. And if am correct I saw contempt if that’s possible. I mean isn’t she supposed to be in pain.
I stroked her head and said..
“Relax its going to be alright. Seriously, you are so sensitive and all the people You know will be lining up to comfort you .”
She rested her head on my shoulders and I think she might have wiped her nose on my sleeves. Eww. I mean what is it about these good looking people! Why do they think that all ordinary girls are unhygienic. I mean, I for one, would keep everything clean including my closed shelf. She knew that. I had that nagging sting that said that I was forgetting something important. ..Oh freak my bed and that spilt alcohol.
I wanted to comfort her. But she wasn’t getting comforted soon enough. I kept on talking about how kind, pretty and amazing she was. Quickly too. Apparently talking neither about her relationship or the person she was in the relationship with, helped. What only helped was calling her ton of adjectives and caressing her ego(that’s the nicest I can be) helped. So I did.
But she was greedy. She only wanted the adjectives to come pouring in. I got impatient and said
“ And anyway he might be diving into the arms of that abc person, who is totally nothing compared to you. So need You not worry at all.”
That jerked her.
She zoned out.
Nothing I said after this made sense to her. She was a girl with a conviction and a mission now. She got up and said that she was exhausted and should probably sleep. I knew better. I saw her out. Polite and comforting. Ok, Ok am nasty. But, the alcohol on my bed. Pretty girls with long nails don’t come to help the mess they have created. We have to clean the place where we live. So I did.
Two days later I heard they were back together. I didn’t have to be a re-bound friend for a couple of days now. That was a relief. Now I could focus on the off thing about the silver dress she wore that night.