Under my Tinderella
Saturday, April 22, 2017
A guide, I felt necessary, when I came across this-
Circa 2014
Ghosting- (Google says noun but I think it's a verb)
Circa 2015
Zombie-ing - (If not an adjective, then I don't know what is this)
Circa 2016
Benching - (Feels like a bloody preposition)
Circa 2017
Haunting - (passive fucking noun, alright)
Circa 2014
Ghosting- (Google says noun but I think it's a verb)
Remember the story where the bird kicks its offspring from the nest for it to grow a pair of wings (what were you thinking?) and the baby barely survives. It crashes, falls, and attempts again just to be able to eat whatever mama/papa bird have procured, and repeats the process until it learns to fly.
Replace mama/papa bird with the potential heartbreakthrob. You're the baby bird. You'll fall from the grace but will learn to fly. They'll forget about you sooner than you'll forget about the exam you crammed for three hours prior to writing it.
Circa 2015
Zombie-ing - (If not an adjective, then I don't know what is this)
You're cooking for him. He's whisking you around in his rusty car. You're inseparable. Next thing you, he's disappeared into thin air. Much like those prawn cutlets you two enjoyed on a misty October evening, under the heavily smogged Delhi sky. Only to be seen again in circa 2017; accompanied by his broken heart, he tells you all about his girlfriend and how she's all kinds of amazing. Until, she hooked up with his best friend.
Would I join him for a smoke and nudge his arm by mistake again or should he try again?
Circa 2016
Benching - (Feels like a bloody preposition)
This is serious stuff. You have sworn off dating because of metal in your mouth. Most people like cotton mouth, you offer hardcore solutions to things, such as '...it won't hurt, I'm telling you.' (pineapple on pizza is okay but have you tried french fries?). He finds the time to see you on Monday, and calls you thrice a day. He wants to see you for breakfast on Tuesday, where he tells you his plan to meet you for a quick bite on Thursday at 11:27 pm.
You take his shit cause he's burly, whale-like and absolutely gorgeous. He tells you he's three other dates lined and that you're his favourite. True to his word, he makes it sharp at 11:27 pm but has to leave by 12:14 am. You miss him. You do nothing about it. Except, you go back to Tinder and continue to swipe, until you find another one who shares love for ankle length socks.
You celebrate by eating New York Cheesecake because you're his favourite.
Circa 2017
Haunting - (passive fucking noun, alright)
Ooh. This is where the going gets difficult. He pops up in your daydreams, your stories, your Whatsapp gallery images. You get rid of him from almost everywhere. Just when you think spending 950 rupees on a chocolate cake is going to help you beat anxiety (on why he dropped your hot ass), you see him lurk. He's "viewed" your story, just as you viewed his profile some 213 times, hoping for as much as a hint to pop by. Sporadically, he shows up, but only on social media.
Your face isn't listed on the people who've frequented his profile. His face does, however, come up on your Snapchat story, your 'gram, your Whatsapp. He's liked the shot of you eating an ice cream stick from 2008, a week after, on Facebook. He'll follow up with a request on Ello. He's so out there.
When you're flirting with this tall, doctorate in Archaeology specimen and open your phone to check the time, he's made his presence felt. His obnoxious handle has followed you on Twitter. Would you like to follow him back?
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