“Psycho” it’s not the first time I read this word.
A text message notification lighted up my phone screen. I read it at first glance but opened and read it again.
Not long ago, he started referring me with this name.
May be being pure, caring & loving unconditionally were not normal traits of a human. The face of humanity was being tainted with materialism. Where a small-town girl was an outcast.
I replied,” your psycho.”
The saved contact name was DESIRE.
As I desired nothing more than that person in that phase of my life.
When we meet he saw his contact name in my phone “desire” he took a closer look in my eyes and said “psycho” with a taunting smile. That smirk around his lips was burning my heart. But I smiled back and said, “I guess I’m”.
So childish of me. I had no idea why he kept referring me a psycho, am I really one? But what makes a person psycho? Maybe I’m too clingy? But does not that’s what he loves about me? Never thought any of it. A teenage girl never knew the art of fancy words and delicacy of her heart. All she knew was to love, to be kind, to be available for the ones who are in pain. Not worrying about outcomes and irrespective of her personality falling apart. Sadly, she does not know who she really was. And how much wildness she was holding in herself. How much love her tiny heart was pouring out to the unnecessary people? Whom she nurtured as flowers, but they came out as weeds. Ruining the beauty of her thoughts and purity of her soul.
She was selfless without knowing what that word means merely at the age of eighteen. She fought the chaos. An admired, rosy, chatty girl, grown twice of her actual age. Fighting the inner demons and external beasts. She came out of hell, all alone, wearing the crown of her dignity. That she deserved. The raising voices silenced. The hands hungry to grope her feminism, felt ashamed of themselves.
The arms who demolished her innocence, cried of emptiness and asked for forgiveness. Not because they realized they were doing wrong to her, in reality the tables turned the day she came to know that SHE DESERVES WHAT SHE SERVES. Until now, she thought love, care, kindness, respect, all of them were not the things to be done for return. And she was right, partially, as she was unaware that she all of deserves them.
Many are still mourning for her old soul, that is not available anymore.
That small-town girl learned the firework of emotions. She came to know that her presence can heal or steal any heart. But she is not just for anyone who comes across.
She can be fire or ice,
she can be love or lust,
she can be calm as the ocean
and wild as thunder,
she can be dancing rain
or a rigid mountain,
she can be as dark as night
or rainbow or sun like bright,
she can be a star
the world can cherish from afar,
she can be wine or whiskey
but not available at any bar.
She is a woman who knows her worth, that kind of woman is easy to fall for but hard to handle. What an irresistible madness she is.
I guess he knew, all of this. The one who named me PSYCHO.
Not only my wordplay art, but a part of me.
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