19.

To prod me into resuming writing again, my roommate bought me a ereader/journal. I am frequently writing on it. Little notes every now and then. Without fear or anxiety that I will lose the piece of paper or the pencil marks will smudge over time and it will become illegible before I fish it out of my pocket while sorting out my laundry. So yeah, it is working. Except, I am still trying to figure out the tiny stylus and the hormonal sensitive screen. So far the writing looks like it belongs to a three year old who knows too many big words but lacks the attention and coordination required to learn how to write properly.

18.

TOTGA has 1000 odd friends on facebook. And I am not one of them.

I guess it is because I am no longer one in a thousand as far as he is concerned.

17. Malai Neram

The radio played malai neram. Again. It was our song. Everytime I hear it, I go back to thinking about the day he called me on his way home from work, in a magical land far far away, so I could hear it playing through his car radio. And I keep thinking about it till someone points out that I'm sitting at my desk with a silly smile on my face.

I wonder if I am allowed to stalk him on facebook. There's not much to do though, since he unfriended me and all. And I said "My ex unfriended me on facebook". That was the first time I'd given our relationship a name. I think he took offense to that. But like the two of us already know, offense is the best form of defense.

I have another teacup in my hand, yes, but I'm somehow unable to sweep up this broken one. Maybe because I never got to use it.

As an aside: it is maalai, meaning evening. Not malai, meaning mountain. Or malaai, meaning milk cream. Although some malaai neram would be nice.

16. The one that got away.

The boy and I survived his 4 month long trip to the des. Intact. We survived the "longer distance" portion of our perpetual "long distance relationship". In a few months, it'll be a year. Good lard.

In a few months, it'll also be a year since I stopped seeing multiple boys at the same time. That, I don't regret. Except for when a really cute boy is on the bus and I want to just ride the bus till wherever he is going. Then, I just want to club the boy on the head. Monogamy while one in the couple is unconscious is just ridiculous, so it excuses the other's actions. [This argument will not hold in court. If you're married, please do not try to use this as legal advice. Just a reminder] But I didn't. I'm nice like that.

Except for the times I think about the guy we will refer to simply as the one that got away, or TOTGA (pronounced toga, or to-go, depending on your preference). In a few months, it will be a year since I stopped seeing him. I use the term "seeing him" rather loosely, for the fellow was in the des. All through our flirting and courting and.. um, dating. All thanks to the marvels of technology like the laptops and the webcams and the interwebs. I am less surprised by the fact I built a "relationship" with totga than I am by me and the boy lasting his international trip. I wonder if that means something.

15.

Six months later. So much has happened. I nearly lost my job. I got a new job. I made a new friend. I alienated my parents... again. And amidst all this I have a new boy. *A* boy. One, single boy. For the past six months. One boy. Long gone are the days when I had multiple boys. So long that I don't even tantrum about that anymore. Atleast not to the boy. He's *still* a little sensitive about it. He's kind of a sap like that. But he was so strict about this "you can't date other boys" business. I asked him if I could date other girls and he denied me that too. Selfless love is a lie. Love makes people selfish, apparently.

Look at me, catching all of you up on my life. Like any of you care. You just come here to get your dose of strange voyeuristic peek at my life. But I show it to you. Voluntarily. Which makes me an exhibitionist. I wonder how the boy feels about that.