The Story Of A Boring Boy

There was this time, when I believed in magic. Then there was this phase of believing in angels. Then came the twilight period, and I wanted to be bit by a vampire. Then I believed in God. And then I understood, no one believes for what I believe in.

I become philosophical when I am sad or angry, or both. I have dabbled in everything. My name is Kumar Yash. I have tried dancing, drawing and now writing. The only problem being, it has all been done without any guidance. Makes your efforts un-fruitful and gives you a reason to cry away about!

You know that one friend, in your friend group you don't give a d-word about? The only thing they are worth for is their shoulders. Everyone gets to lean on them. Sob about their problems. Trustworthy. Good at listening. Not judgey. I am that person. Except I judge. But I remain silent about it!

And he had this thought set in his mind, atleast I think he did, because how else would the things-that-shoudn't-have-happened would have happened? The thought being, I can't make mistakes. And that I have Robert Langdon kind of memory. Shit! My memory is worth that of a goldfish. A goldfish with Alzheimer's.

He believed, I was trying to make him envy me when I mistakenly told him my scholarship to be higher than it actually was. He of all people! He of all people didn't come to me, and didn't slap me and ask why was I lying! He just chose to ignore my existence.

And I wasn't even lying. Right hand to God! I wasn't lying! I WASN'T LYING! I MISSPOKE! I FORGOT! I wasn't lying.

You and I were best friends. At least you were my best friend. If I were to make you feel jealous, I would have said it to your face,and laughed about it and would have made you buy chips like you always did.

I love you. I adore you. Please believe me. I wasn't lying.