Piece of Shit Box.

Regret is the worst thing. Do everything you can to never experience regret.

I have a few friends. They were with me on my birthday as the clock struck midnight. There’s a saying that ‘Keep your friend circle small and your beer cold’. Or in my case ‘Keep your friend circle small and your joint lit’, then why’d I feel let down and a sense of failure at life ushered over me when it was way past 12 and there was still no message or call from my ex? I was waiting to hear from her. There were other messages and calls. I didn’t pick up any of them, maybe because I was on a lot of Marijuana and didn’t want to tirelessly say ‘thank you’ to every other caller and wait as the awkward silence after the ‘thank you’ faded and the caller would then hang up. But I think it was because I was not feeling swell and important although it being my birthday because my ex hadn’t wished me yet. I didn’t want the callers to remind me that, it would put me in a more sombre mood. Plus all the people who are important to me were already present minus my ex. It was a weird feeling. But then it struck me that it was all because it was not just my birthday.

One year ago, on my birthday, the girl I had been waiting on for three years, was finally mine. I still remember how one day earlier, my friend had called me and told me to reach a place at a particular time. There was a surprise he’d mentioned. I’d guessed what the surprise was. And sure enough, she was waiting for me when I reached the place. Happy day.

I was plummeting towards sadness and anger with each minute that passed and nothing on my phone from her. Then after 20 minutes, there was a long vibration, different from the rest, and a message tone, different from the rest. I remembered when I had customized the vibration and message tone exactly a year back. I smiled unnoticed, but never took out the phone from my pocket. I would open that text when everyone had gone off to sleep and I was alone with a joint and music. It was Parvati Valley and my CFA results all over again. But this time, I wasn’t expecting much. I would just be happy that she texted and look at it for a long time. That was it. It still would be the highlight of the day and I wanted the highlight of the day to be shown the respect it deserved, hence the alone parade, sunlight and joint and music. Plus it was not like she was waiting for a reply, so it didn’t matter if I texted her back after I’d replied to everyone. I always replied her last, I don’t know why.

After everyone dozed off, I took the two joints I’d rolled and went outside to sit in the fresh sunlight. I opened her text, it was sweet. Music was playing, and I felt normal again. I smiled. And then thought about what to reply. I wrote something, then erased it. Then again, but again erased. After countless efforts, I chose a reply that was a mix of ‘thank you, it wouldn’t be a big deal if we spoke again, I miss you’. It was subtly put. I never had any problems when it came to writing replies, and shockingly this reply was the most nerve wrecking task I’d ever performed, and as I was writing the three line simple reply which should’ve taken 20 seconds at most, took me half an hour. It was around 6 am and as I was writing it, she came online, I saw, and then offline again. My blue ticks are turned off, so I thought it was cool unless she opened my chat and saw me online and thought that I didn’t care anymore. But it was highly unlikely she would open my chat at 6 in the morning, so I told myself it was all cool.

Anyway, when I was hitting send, my brain told me to stop. It said to think a little more before sending. The heart, from down below, bellowed to the brain to shut the fuck up already. The brain had caused enough damage. Over thinking piece of shit box. Next instant I hit send. It’s my life and the heart knows what it wants. Fuck the logic for a moment. That moment would be the most remembered.
A hundred days had made me older. I was here without her and it killed me and I knew it. I’m happy I hit send. I could’ve replied just a mere ‘Thank you :)’ and then at the end I knew I was going to blame myself for not conveying what needed to be conveyed. At least now I know I didn’t leave any leaf unturned.

I looked at the joint in my hand, it burned slowly, after about nine drags, the joint extinguished. It wasn’t rolled right. I wasn’t going to throw it away and light the next one that was kept beside. I didn’t need the next joint anyway. I fixed the joint, put my lighter to it, inhaled and exhaled multiple times in quick succession to make sure it burned right this time. It didn’t. I fixed it again and again. Finally, I found the problem. Something was stuck in the filter. A large piece of uncrushed weed. I adjusted it, burned the joint again, this time with great care and determination, it sparked to life. The fire rekindled.



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