On recovering.

Dear Mr. Wonderful,

There are times when I couldn’t help myself and I think about you.

Who am I kidding? Not a single day has passed without you crossing my mind — even if fleetingly. But perhaps it’s not really you I remember, but all that you represented — and presented — to me.

I knew you at the time I was very much confused. I still had not regained my confidence. I was then the Badly Beaten Me. But what was funny is that, like all others who first see me, you probably thought I was, well, an obnoxious female. I don’t know if it’s my aura or my countenance. I am painfully shy, so I really don’t talk much. Yes, maybe that’s it.You probably thought I was a snob.

But I wasn’t, was I? The hours together — surely you would have learned that I was just a scared — and scarred — kid. I knew you knew. I remember you telling me that I give up too easily, that I expected failure. And you pushed me to continue. I thank you for that.

At that time I also latched on to the idea that what you called me would come true. And it did. Again, I thank you for that.

We knew each other at the right time. And I think the reason for that is that you were one of the people I needed to meet to regain my confidence. It was wrong for me to wish for anything more.  But could you blame me? I guess I was still in hero-worship mode. And it didn’t help that you were, well, a flirt. 😛

But all will be well in the end, I know. At least I did myself the favor of not getting your number. In a weak moment, I would have succumbed to the urge of contacting you. Where would that leave me then? No, this is better. Suffering in silence. Wait, that’s being melodramatic. I’m recovering. Recovering with a tinge of pain, a pang of sadness. But they were altogether happy memories. And, again, I thank you for that.


Recovering Badly Beaten Me


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