Russian Roulette

It’s been three days and I’ve typed only to delete the four lines of my brain ramblings. It has ranged from hurt to love to anger to just simple confusion. It has been that type of week, wherein I remember everything all at once and I miss and hate and love it all at once.
Right now I’m sitting in the car listening to Yuna talk about how he remains her favorite thing and I too yearn to one day pen something amazing about you. Eventually I will feel like what Brian was talking about when he said “If you think this is as good as it gets.”
And also I’m sitting here thinking about how impractical it is to completely trust someone else with your most priced possesion – heart – only to never be entirely sure if they know what to do with. We literally play Russian Roulette with our hearts.
See – it’s been a week of silly toss ups between optimistic forevers and the accepting of the wine dinners in my onsie going through an Scandal box set.
Is there a statute of limitations on nursing a broken heart? Does the concept of love at first sight really trully exist? I need to believe that the answer to these two questions is yes. That one day you will not learn to live with the catch in your heartbeat everytime you think of that one time. But that rather after a set period the poltergeist just disappears in the rear view mirror of one’s subconcious memories. That one day you will meet and you will know and you will be forever.
So perhaps my tossing and turning has just been an arrival to this specific place I am in. Where I understand that time does not heal but rather what you do to deal with your hurt, that tends to your wounds.


“I Believe in Pink”

I don’t think I am ready for love. Excuse my cynicism but allow me to explore my statement.
I have reasoned that love is a form of energy. How else do we explain the heat that kisses your face when receiving a phone call or text from that specific person who’s face has now conjured in your mind? And equally so that deathly desire to disappear into your sheets when your heart has been shattered?  The polarities of hot and cold that radar your heartbeat should at least say that love is much much more than bland emotion.
In the twenty even years that I have been alive I cannot truly say that I have learned enough about myself to give it all away to someone else. One can only treasure something they value, should I not know the complete value of me how do I trust you with its safe keeping?

Personally I think my love carries the frequencies that liken light. Given any particular prism I project an array of colours and I am only discovering the palette of my spectrum.
I fall in love all the time with different features of the human being. I am not experimental, I just do not know what my best colour is.
Right now I am in the kindergarten of discovery, enjoying bright and dull and the picture it gives against clean canvas. So how can I honestly say to one person, “I love you”. It would be a tragedy that would disrespect  the passions of Shakespeares Romeo and Juliet (probably not the best models for love either)

So indulge me universe. Tease my taste with bright and dull. In due time – perhaps not through trial and error – but surely I will discover my pink in the colour wheel of love.



A while ago I was asked where do I stand on being wooed. I had never really thought about it. I mean I am only twenty even and the whole wooing thing sometimes evades me. I thought about the guys that I liked and considered if they had wooed me. Nope they hadn’t, and maybe that’s okay.
This question,  which I answered almost immediately made me realise that I am a simple girl. Being simple is never a bad thing too. So I owned my simplicity and discovered that once you do all else falls in place.
Really it is not about the fanciest things people say to or do for you. It’s the simple things in life we forget like Usher crooned those old years back.

Well to tell you my answer quiet simply I said.
“Like any woman, there is an 1820s girl in me walking topless with a calabash filled with water resting on her head. Hoping that one day that young cow herder from across the fields will one day tell her she has a beautiful smile and if she’ll allow him he will sing to her about them under the stars. In due time he will draw a line on the river bed and ask her to cross over it symbolic of her joining him to be together till forever”

I believe in that simple love that captures you so deeply that you can only catch your breathe many years later. I believe in an impossible love.  This might not be realistic and it may also grain against my cynical nature – but who said my cynicism is my all and end all?

With love, Tumishi