That's just me

I am she who waited for years for the first thrill of holding hands.
I am she who kept stealing shy glances.
I am she who almost died out of embarrassment when you said those three magical words first.
I am she who won't tell you that she loved you back.
That doesn't mean she didn't.
That's just me.

Of having ice creams while looking at the setting sun.
Of feeling each other up with more passion than the heat we both so needed.
Of looking into each others' eyes until the last trace of light vanished.
The sun must've been amused,we were so hopelessly in love,right?
Or maybe I'm not right.
Maybe you never cared.
It was all an act.
Only I fell head over heels in love.
That's just me.

I'm she who won't stop crying when the honeymoon period was over.
I'm she who just couldn't believe that you could be someone other than my charming prince.
I'm she who swore to herself to never let you in.
I'm she who you fooled again.
That's just me.

I'm she who's bruised and hurt today.
I'm she who still doesn't need your shoulder.
I'm she who can kick your ass.
I'm she who can bring you down to your knees.
I'm she who still chose to forgive.
That's just me.

I'm she who let you use her again and again.
And then leave her all alone to heal.
I'm she who did everything she could have to make you stay.
I'm she who thought she'd rather be the vamp if that made you hate(and therefore remember) her.
I'm she who thought no insult was insulting enough.
Because they were coming from you.
That's just me.

I'm she who never refused you a dance.
Even if every part of her body kept aching.
I'm she who didn't know how to judge you.
Because you were her God.
I'm she who would go to any length to make you happy.
All her feminist lines didn't make sense when it came to you.
I'm she who surrendered whenever you wanted her to.
I'm she who never questioned you.
But answered your questions nevertheless.
That's just me.

I'm she who can't stop thinking even today,
"Why did you do what you did to me?"
I'm she who still can't write the story with you in it as the villain.
Though she's pretty much okay that she's not the heroine of your story.
I'm she who can never stop caring.
I'm she who can never ask you those simple words,
"Did you care?"

I'm she who has walked a lot.
I'm she who could use a little rest.
I'm she who's tired of life.
Though she's only seventeen.

I'm she who talks to the dead.
I'm she who wakes up in the middle of the night,screaming,
"Why won't Aarushi Talwar get the justice she deserved?"
No one answers her back.
But she still doesn't fall asleep.
When no one comes to her rescue,her tears do.
And she puts herself to sleep,crying.
That's just me.


I'm she who's filled with rage-
"Why does Manu Sharma get to visit his family?"
I'm she who can't accept it
when Jessica is denied access to the heaven.
Because she was a,well,'bartender'.
 That's just me.

I'm she who hugs Taslima Nasreen,
and says it's okay to be hated rather than being ignored.
I'm she who storms out of the room.
When an elder makes virginity a big deal.
And says,"that girl was loose."

I'm she who feels like going on a world tour,
showing everyone the middle finger.
I'm she who doesn't care if she's sleeping on mats or grass,
as long as she fights for the right cause.


Immature,stupid,lost in her own world,
is that what you still think of me?
Then maybe it's time you did a reality check.
Because I grew up.
Yes,that'd be me.