Bimql chhetry.

A few days ago I posted here about how I accidentally pretended to be a stranger’s boyfriend in a café for about 30 seconds and nearly got into a fight over it. At the time it felt like one of those weird, one-off moments you just laugh about later and move on from. I genuinely didn’t think I would ever see her again. I didn’t even know her name. But today, completely randomly, I ran into her again at a community centre. It took me a second to recognise her, but when I did, I think my brain just paused for a moment because I wasn’t expecting that at all. We both sort of awkwardly acknowledged it at first, like “this is actually happening again”, and then ended up talking properly. It was a lot more normal this time. At some point I told her about the post I had written here and showed it to her. She looked slightly annoyed at first, probably because I had basically turned that moment into a story for the internet, but then she started smiling while reading through the comments. We end...

I can’t help it. I’m a lover boy. A romantic at heart. My obsessions sometimes get the better of me. But, oh, how beautiful she is right now. So peaceful. I can’t help but wonder what she’s dreaming about. Is it about me? Our interaction at the supermarket today? God, I hope so. I need her to see me. To feel my presence even in her unconscious state. I didn’t mean to stare at her. She was just so breathtaking. I’d never seen such a beautiful woman. It choked the words in my throat. And the way she looked at me, that quiet uncertainty in her face, it was like she wanted me to chase her. Maybe that’s why she left in such a hurry. I was smart, though. The strong, brooding type. I didn’t want to seem too eager. That’s why I kept my distance as I followed her out to her car, and why I stayed a few car-lengths back from her on the way to her neighborhood. I had to stop myself from dwelling for too long. I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. That’s what separates me from the other guys. I...

Until a week ago, I worked as an usher at a very old, massive movie theater. It was not one of those modern cinemas with reclining leather seats and a full dining menu. It was an aging, multi-level building with sticky carpets, flickering neon lights, and corridors that stretched on far too long. Because it was an independent theater, we played a lot of things the big chains ignored. We played old classics, independent films, and late at night, we played incredibly cheap, low-budget horror movies. The kind of movies filled with practical gore, disgusting practical effects, and terrible acting. We had one specific screen, the smallest one located at the very end of the longest hallway on the second floor, dedicated almost entirely to these types of movies. My job was simple. I stood by the ticket podium, directed people to their screens, and when a movie ended, I went in with a broom and a trash bag to sweep up the spilled popcorn and discarded cups. It was a boring job, but it was qui...

Looking back now, I think it was destiny that me and my wife had that argument. I won’t go too in depth, but I will say it wasn’t the first time I’d stormed out of the house in a rage. Ever since Mathew went missing, it was either solemn silence or violent outbursts between me and her. He was our son. The one thing in this world we were supposed to protect with every ounce of strength in our bodies, only for him to disappear right below our noses. We used to hike as a family, head up to the trails and get away from the city. It was grounding. Tantalizing, almost. Picnicking, taking dips in whatever stream or river we could find, feeling Mother Nature embrace us in her arms. Hell, I still remember the hike we went on the day everything happened. The day our lives crumbled around us. March 16th, 2006. The air was starting to warm up again here in the south. Trees had started blossoming again. The sun felt actually inviting rather than ironic. Mathew was 6 at the time. His mother and I h...

There was this kid in my class who always picked on me during group work. One day, he made a comment thinking the teacher wouldn’t notice. Instead of just scolding him, the teacher stopped the whole class and made him explain his joke out loud. As soon as he had to repeat it, it stopped being funny and the whole room went silent. He never bothered me again after that day.

So when I was the age stated in the title I was walking along train tracks with a high school friend. I had picked up a half full water bottle from along the tracks and was just carrying it sloshing the water back and fourth as we walked and talked. We came to a bridge section that brought the tracks over a residential street. We had stopped and were looking down at the street when I noticed a guy walking his dog. Being the rude, impulsive, and society bucking teen that I was, without really thinking, I yelled "I'm an angry youth!" And launched the bottle at the guy. Then took off running before the bottle could even land. I at least did it in such a way that it would land near him but not actually hit the guy and I did hear it hit the ground as I ran. Few days later when I told my therapist he started laughing hysterically. Having to force himself to stop and wiping a tear from his eye he said something like "How oddly self aware of you. I shouldn't be laughing...