I thought i was dangling between presence and absence. As if a screen I talked to amounted to a presence and then when he went offline I was alone. As I write this I think of the day I first googled songs on LDR and found one on a girl called Delilah. We all secretly want to be serenaded. Especially lonely girls like me, we live through the loves and losses of others. We look at the world from the poems they write, fingering cold grey ashes of their experience, trying to imagine what flames feel like. And when I sat by the window listening to the silence get louder very minute, I clicked on that song. My skin shivered at the voice, like a warm, enticing touch on my back. I fancied myself to be a Delilah, sitting before a screen with a huge smile on my lips and tears in my eyes. There was all the dreamy happiness in the world rolled in one song that reiterated what a dear friend had once said earlier- Time and Space are two stupid dimensions that do nothing to love. Just like a conch that has sometime been in the sea will always have a song of waves inside it if you bother to listen to it, people's physical absence does not erase their memories. Even the most future looking and the obstinate, the blatant, unapologetic cynics live to recreate. There is no such thing as a totally new experience. That is why they say we have a type. We fall in the same trenches again. We refuse to evolve. Sometimes it is fun to finger the scars and recollect the bloody cut, to touch the inside of the cheek with a blister filled tongue just to see if it still hurts.But then there was his voice. It is a voice that runs in my head even today. It is an echo, a trace of a distant disturbance. It is very much a part of me, a ghost if you may call it, but something which has possessed me and refuses to set me free. It is a static filled old radio that I refuse to throw away for sentimental reasons. He said I lived in a weird, self-absorbed reality. I did not understand him at that time, and even now, i do not think i do fully. But maybe he meant he just wasn't interested in me. Because people only say those things that will give them what they want. They don't say what they really feel is true. And I live in the precarious edge between the two. What i want of my life, what I know I need, are two polar opposites. Perhaps truth and falsehood is not so different from longing and freedom. Or need and want. I asked and gave and got nothing in return. Dating is a dance. You have to take a step back for the other person to step in. Never give more than double of what you receive. Maybe he meant that I lived in the middle of an island. A castaway in my own mind. If I was lost, where was I to go? Was there even the slightest idea?These are words that float at me. And i go back again to incidents, the train stops where i cried and laughed and listened to him rant about how i lack the intellect to be his friend. Where there were violent jerks and stops, when the world seemed to reach at a standstill.