I Couldn't......

She looked at me and I looked back into her eyes. She seemed to take a deeper look. And I was sure she would complain against me not having shaved for two weeks; or she would mock at my not-slept-for-10-days look; or she would hate something in me which I was never was aware of that I would be hated about! As I was contemplating in my mind about which option she would chose, she softly whispered 'I Love You' and gently kissed me.

I have wanted to marry her; but....... I couldn't.

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Nearly three years later, I wanted to write a screenplay for the kind of movie that I had in my mind; but I couldn't. I knew I can do that; I can write, but it was way to difficult than I thought it would be. I hated myself for not being able to do anything which I wanted to; I cursed the 'want' as such for mysteriously becoming difficult, exactly at the time when I proactively attempted to get it.

I tried vodka. One peg. One page got over. Two pegs. Another page went by. Wow. And the third peg......... I slept. When I woke up the next morning and read the two pages, I wished the pages on Microsoft Word were physical paper so that I could tear it into innumerable pieces.

I splashed water on my face several times, and looked at myself quite deep in the mirror. I was hoping I could find a few pages for my screenplay. But, fuck shit. Fuck that bloody shit!!!!! I look ugly. Damn Ugly. And I deserve to be hated by every gorgeous person on this beautiful planet. Sincerely, this awesome feeling of failure, probably mixed with oodles of self-pity, is giving me a higher high than my realization about my failure at writing. The destiny of 'I couldn't' is sounding comfortable than that of 'I can'.

I tried calling up a few friends and started....... yours truthfully and yours faithfully, just started, about my great realization; to which all of them, fuck them all, asked me who the fuck cares if I am not going to be writer; am I not earning enough and doing well as a software professional? I cursed them all, drank more pegs of vodka, Classic Smirnoff to be specific, splashed more water into my eyes and hated myself more.

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And out of that greatest hatred I felt about myself; I somehow seemed to have got the greatest realization of my life. The fact that I am doing well at something which I don't care about, is the very exact reason why I am unable to succeed at what I want to succeed at. The fact that I am earning well, which in turn is feeding my tummy to the fullest, is the absolute reason why I am not hungry enough to write.

So I wanted to fuck my job, burn all my money and growl at everyone. But........ I couldn't.