A perfect imperfection

I am going to share a love story today, since its interesting, I am going directly to the story.. This story is narrated as the first person to spice it up.

I, Jane know a guy, a handsome perfection freak is what I call him. He wants all of this things to be neatly arranged, he wears only perfect formal shirts, which is mostly either white or black. His desk is the cleanest desk of a male, I have ever seen in my life. Perfectly arranged files, laptop and shelves, just like his facial features, all neatly placed. His perfection dreams entered also in his choice of life partner. He desires perfection in his life and career too. He chose the perfect always… now… I just want to stop here and tell you something…

He is my crush. I am not a perfect girl. I am clumsy girl, a simple woman who has great dreams. I mess things up, not wantedly, but it mostly ends like that. Not always, sometimes I too do things correct, but not perfect. I like bright colours, mostly my works include bright and bold angles to them.

I know we both were two different poles. I just like to see his handsome features from a distance, I know I will never be his kinda girl. I am not a very beautiful in the office but I know I have a little light in me. Atleast I hope so. Fate put us both in the same project. First time ever our eyes met and I felt as though my next mistake was looking at me. The first sight of his smile sitting so close to me was magical. I lost track of time…. Happiest days of my life…. We became friends in his perspective while I was falling for him actually.

He shared with me about other girls he liked, sometimes their own conversation. The more we talked the more I lost myself. Our friendly talks sometimes extended until late nights. Our late night chats became all night calls. I could feel deep down that he likes me.

Ssometimes he called me dear when we were alone. He gave clear signals of likeness. He was always around me, jealous when I spoke to other men and took care of me. He never agreed his likeness towards me in words but his deeds were loud enough to tell even our bosses.

It was that time in office where we all were talking about lay offs. I perfectly know that neither of us will be laid off , because all our projects are a big hit. Our little perfect relationship was happy even during that turmoil.

But one day, he called me late at night to ask me out. I said, I might not be able to make it, because of other plans. He persisted to tell me something. I asked him to continue in the call, that’s when he said…. he was engaged… and we never spoke again.

After few a days, entire office was excited and everywhere was his wedding talks. I was invisible and non existent to him. It was then I realised something, this thing between us was imperfect. We both had different views of life, I don’t even have a little quality of what he expects from a girl friend. I know it, because I read his appraisal report. I was used as a tool for his achievements. At someplaces my efforts and ideas were quoted as his. Nowhere my name was indicated. Not once a Jane was mentioned in the entire report.

I was only used for his selfish purposes. That perfection freak was perfect only outside. Deep inside he is a dirty smelling slaughter house. Those smiles, frequent eye locks and late night chats were to get more and more ideas and information from me. I was fooled. I wept day and night for about 2 months not for the fraudster or for the appraisal. I wept because I was fooled. My love was used. I did love him although I never mentioned it to him or to others.

That perfectionist’s imperfect love has lot to do with me. It was then I realised never to be a fool again for love or relationship.

I may say a lot or write or complain a lot here… but those perfect imperfections in his love still has a special place in my heart.

This is Jane….

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.