Drama Queen

She kept walking. It didn’t seem okay. Was she doing the right thing? Lying, she supposed, was relative. Is lying ‘lying’ when noone found out? The thing is, how would anyone ever know she was lying unless she spilt the beans or of course, if he let her down. But that wasn’t going to happen because he needed to keep up his reputation as well… Or does he?

Natasha had never been in a relationship as long as she could remember. Dealing with it wasn’t the only problem, how could she ever justify what all she’d done. Would he ever believe that she still loved him if he knew what she did? Then again, “love” was just a tag. She wasn’t sure if she knew the meaning. Maybe it was a just a word you’re forced to put in after it’s been a while. She felt like laughing. Or crying? She wasn’t sure.

It all seemed so dramatic. The only thing missing was pouring rain and some funny music that supposed to make you contemplate. But there was at least something she was sure of. Number one, that stuff happens only in movies. And number two, not a tad bitchy, but as bitchy as it might seem, to her, conscience was a myth. As many sappy movies as she’d seen, he maybe a Cary Grant but she definitely was no Deborah Kerr.

The truth is, the inside story is never told. Just how many guys did Deborah Kerr screw in that six month wait? Did they really hit it off after that? Well that’s what people really wanted to know, ‘Affairs to forget’. She dug into her bag for that last Marlboro and lit up. One thing was for sure, she’d never have the guts to tell him unless she was dumping him. She then sat on the bench overlooking the valley. One thing she’d never been comfortable with was going out alone. As much as she believed herself to be a strong, independent woman, somethings just wouldn’t change.

Then she dialled the only person who would take this bullshit from her. “Hey Dhanu, you up?” “When have you ever bothered? Tell me.” But somehow she couldn’t. Words were stuck inside, stuff she’d only read in books. “You drunk?” It jolted her back to reality. “No just wanted to talk. Forget it I’ll call you tomorrow, it’s late” and she hung up.

She got up. It was all crap. Nothing changed her. She’d always been this way as long at she could remember. The romantic rain was something meant for girls who had nothing better to do than curl up with a Mills and Boon novel at night. To think of it, she’d never read one. Stubbing out the cigarette, she put her phone back in her bag. And that’s when it started to drizzle…

*Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.