Why Did I Love Him?


When a man falls in love with a woman he becomes insane but when a man falls in love with another man he is shattered. When a man falls in love with a woman there is hope but when a man falls in love with another man there is nothing but despair and sadness alone and I am friends with this despair and sadness. There is no hope for me. I do believe it is better to be heartbroken than keep wondering what could the answer have been but can I stay intact after the heartbreak? I do not know. Why did I love him? Of all the men in the world my heart went to him who is not even remotely curious let alone be gay (this is what I think, I yet do not know anything about his sexual orientation). Even if he was horny enough to let me please him I would have been the happiest man alive but the cruel, cruel fate plays very unfair. It places the best meal in front of a hungry beggar and when he is about to touch it (snap!) the dream is broken. My story is one of madness and lust. I was physically aroused way before love entered to ruin my paradise of desires. This is not a sweet love story. You have been, as they say, warned.

I was not interested in going to that stupid wedding of my mother’s cousin. For God’s sakes those people didn’t care if you fell down a trap hole! But unwillingly I agreed to go only to avoid the lengthy arguments. I have little patience with arguments starting with you’ll do it because I said so. At the wedding after all the introductions and welcomes I sat silently with my brother thinking about how I would have utilized my time had I not come here to get bored at a dramatic wedding.

I was about to literally kill myself with the boredom in all the pomp and show when I saw him. My jaw did not drop as reader might think, instead I instantly hardened. It was lust at first sight, at every sight. He was actually drop-down-dead gorgeous and I had to shuffle myself carefully on the chair so as to avoid hurting me by the tight jeans I was wearing. He had short stubble beard and penetrating black eyes which churned my insides violently. He was coming towards me with a cousin of my mom and I thought I would burst with lust and joy. I did not. Instead I was introduced to Abhishek an engineering student at some college in Greater Noida and we soon fell into talking about much nonsense from religion to politics to conspiracy theories (actually I was talking he was listening) and god alone knows what other idiotic stuff. I did not fell in love with him then, I just felt the sudden urge to kiss him and tell him that he was driving me mad. How well he looked in that checkered shirt and black jeans. Here I was babbling on and on and everyone sitting with me telling me not to bore them but he said he was interested. He wanted to listen!

Well my joy did not last long as it was close to midnight and we had to take our dinners and that’s what we did. But after that we (me, my brother, the cousin and Abhishek) went to the roof and talked about other things. Well since all three were into engineering they talked while I looked at Abhishek unblinkingly thinking only about the pleasures I wanted to have but couldn’t. How much I wanted to touch him then, smell him, feel every cell of his by my tongue is useless to say. I was being driven mad with desire and lust and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do. When I again started speaking and others told me to stop boring them he said he wanted to listen. He was interested in me! Fine whatever I was blabbering but still! This great guy with lustful good looks and soft, scruffy musical voice was interested in listening to me. How much thrill that sent through my brain and navel and me then! ‘Oh dear God please’ I prayed with the deepest core of me ‘please let me be with him, just once.’ But apparently God does not much care about people so my prayer went unheard and I came home wondering will I ever see him again?

How much I wanted to kiss every inch of him; his little scar by the chin, his soft and thin lips, his dancing eyes, his long fingers, his chest, his stomach, him. But my lust had to remain thirsty and thirsty it remained. We had exchanged numbers and when many days later he called I couldn’t talk because I was busy (what a fool!). I called him after a few days and his roommate informed me that he was in shower. I felt jealous of the water then! How lucky it was to touch all of him. I imagined him clad in falling, glistening water droplets and lost myself for a moment. Then I brushed away that thought like a fool I was. We continued to chat later on and looking at every picture of him I would only think how good-looking he was until slowly and I do not know when I started feeling more than lust, more than pure carnality. I started feeling love.

How much the thought hurt me! How much I cried after this knowledge! Here I was still struggling to accept that I am a homosexual and then I fall in love with him with the old classic cliché of head over heels! From then on to this day I have cried in his name, laughing at God and the universe for their cruel play, never cursing them but only me. Ah Abhishek! When you became love of my live, passion of my dreams, colour of my desires I do not know. All I know is that I love you; I love you more than I ever thought it would be possible to love someone. I love you more than I myself am able to understand. Abhishek! Abhishek! Abhishek! Abhishek! Abhishek! Abhishek! Abhishek! Abhishek!

I cannot remember a time once in whole of the last year when I did not think of him. At first I had thought it was just a crush, physical but that was a lie and some part of me knew that. In this one year I had virtually stalked him, finding his every picture available, trying anything and everything to start up a conversation. Sometimes I wondered if he knew. Did he know that I was madly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him? Or was he totally oblivious to the fact that all I wanted to do was to grab him and kiss him till my last breath? All I wanted to do was tell him again and again that I was mad about him. Oh! What wouldn’t I give to be with him just once? What wouldn’t I give to touch him once, kiss him, let every inch of me run lustily through every inch of him? What wouldn’t I give to never let him go? Everything. Everything!

I do not want him to think that I want something from him. I do but I know he cannot give me what I want. So I pray for him, I will pray as long as I live that may God always keep him smiling, laughing and content. Perhaps I will meet a glimmer of him in a distant future or in a new life and when I do I will always remember how much I have loved him. How much I wanted to shout out to world that I love him. How much I wanted to whisper in his ears silently as I looked deep in his eyes that I love him. I love you Abhishek, I will always love you.

I do chant his name with my every breath and I know it sounds weird and poetic but it is not so in a way and it is so much in a more subtle way. Love is poetry indeed, weird and classic, bizarre and intriguing. I have no proof to prove how much I love him except perhaps my tears and my heart where he has taken a permanent residence. If I could say something to Abhishek I will tell him again and again that I love him, I love him from every cell of mine. I will always love him, I love him when the wind blows, when sun rises and sets. I love him when it rains and I love him when it’s cold. I love him when its morning and birds leave their nest. I love him in the evening when they come home and I know I have nowhere to go.

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