I found you when I was looking for someone. As obvious as it sounds, it is not so simple. Look at it this way, I was a girl looking for love, but more than that I was a girl who believed that it only happens once. And then I found you, with a sly smile and eyes that could make my knees tremble, I thought 'this is it'. You were my first everything, and I had hoped that you will be the last. Have I told you before how bad I am at letting go?
So, when the first time you let me sleep sad after a fight, I didn't let it bother me. The first time you made me cry and your arms didn't pull me in, I pretended it didn't matter. The first time you shouted at me, I closed my eyes so tight pretending that it could block out the noise, too. The first time you casually flirted with that girl at the bar, I drank myself unconscious that night. The first time you let me cry myself to sleep, I didn't wake up till late in the noon. I often wonder why'd I still hold on to you? Maybe because there were a lot of other firsts too. The first time you said 'I love you' and I cried, because no one had said that to me before. The first time you held my hand and I felt your warmth long after you had let go. The first time we hugged and I could feel your heartbeat against mine. The first time we kissed and the first time you said "you couldn't live without me"
Maybe, we all have good 'firsts' and bad 'firsts'. And maybe letting go is about the bad ones and holding on is about the good ones. You were my both, you were, I thought, the love they say you only find once. I gave away all the chances, and some more to keep you for the good memories, because losing you would mean losing my only chance at love. I held on to you so tight, so long that when I let go, I was left with only the bad ones; the breaking, the crying, the never trusting again.
I gave you so many chances because I thought you were my only chance at love. Turns out I was wrong, turns out the firsts don't mean the last for everyone. You will know too, when you meet someone who makes another chance at love even better than the first. — firsts // disha
These are all first drafts. What a mess! They makes me feel better about mine. 😆 Yeah! I printed mine out today just to get a better look at it. It soon looked like one of these... with scribbles and edit marks all over it. ✏ The success of great writers owes as much to doggedness as to talent, says Jonathan Gottschall Ph.D. in 'Crappy First Drafts of Great Books'. ✔ ALL good books begin as bad drafts. So hurrah. 🎉 It's been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster today though. I woke up at 2 am and was up until 6 am, so I was tired. When I eventually opened Schrivner I couldn't find my pages! The titles were there but blank pages (after a laptop update.) So, big panic and all the work I did yesterday organizing everything was gone. A BIG lesson learned. BACK UP! ALL THE TIME! 🖥 After my panic was rectified, my next emotion was 'excited' cause I printed out 1st draft. My FIRST DRAFT! Except half way through I ran out of paper. 😢 When I got more, it was PAGES longer than I expected - the printer just kept on going... I was like 🎉 yeassss! Only to find that a lot of it had repeat printed two or even three times. 😢 So that was a big urgh... Then I started reading it... much more urgh... then I fell asleep. 😆 When I woke up I was like, I don't even want to look at the damn thing anymore today. 😂 Fiction writing is hard. Today has been a real challenge, and it really is blood, sweat and tears at times. But, it's still a brilliant thing to attempt to do, and I think worth it. Some days are great, others not, it's just like life really, isn't it! 😆
The first time I smoked weed, you rolled a joint for me and I asked, how do you do it so well?
You said years of practice and I was forced to think what might've caused a 23 yr old boy to say that. So, I sat beside you talking about life and how we both ended up smokin' weed. I asked, about how life took so much from us before we even came to know about it, you said life has the habit of stealing things and never giving back. I smiled back and saw your left hand slithering towards my right and you entwining your pinky finger with mine. You said you do that when you're high, and I let people do that when I'm high I completed.
We talked about how your dog, Jasper died and you shed one or two drops of tears for his loss, and gave me a tight hug and said sorry, I do that when I cry and I say I let people do that when they cry. The cold air of the frozen January blows through our hair, which forced us to move a bit closer to each other for staying warm. You said your heart is cold enough to turn this whole world frozen, I smiled back and pressed your hand, it still feels warm... While rolling the third joint for me, I asked him, will you teach me how you do that? He said you'll learn soon if you're an attentive smoker. We stayed quiet for the next thirty minutes, in the stance of the next moment, I saw your lips moving closer to me, we kissed, you said you kiss while you're high and again I said I let people kiss me while I'm high.
We woke up on his bed, hungover me asked him if he needs coffee, he said I am not hungover anymore if you're an attentive smoker you'd reach that stage soon. Two crocins down, with a cup of coffee, I looked at his face, pale but beautiful, dry but attractive, his black hair wavy enough to cover his right eye, I look at the worth staring scenario of the moment, him.
Before leaving, I asked him if I bribe you with love would you want to roll joints together again? You say broken people can roll joints again, but not love twice. I looked at him and give a wry smile. He looks at my face and asked if I bribe you with weed would you come back here again? I smiled and said that I'd love to be lonely with you, again.
By Deboleena Das👌🏻