Love Ducks and Donuts

Whassup.

Guess who has an extra long weekend? 

Moi.

And it's not just one extra day

But TWO.

Hilariously enough, one's based on Christopher Columbus - and my frequent readers KNOW how much I hate that dude. 

Eh. I can't complain, I guess. It is no school, after all. 

Anyways...

I'm here talking to a topic that I imagine is everyone's favorite. 

Relationships. 

Brace yourself. 

For all those who aren't dating anyone (that should be everyone, considering your spending time with me and my oh-so-wonderful posts) -this is for you. 

Ok, be honest. On Valentine's day, you've imagined what it would be like to someone to "confess the deepest parts of their hearts" to you. And every year, you end up with one flower - the one you bought for yourself. But that doesn't stop your imagination. 

I'm sure that everyone out there has imagined what their dream "proposal" looks like - one of my friends wants to specifically be confessed to in the rainy weather in the afternoon with the guy offering her a bunch of roses. She claims she won't accept anything else. 

It's funny how far our imaginations can take us. Seriously, if I didn't have an imagination, I don't know what I'd do. For example, during especially boring presentations I've imagined what would happen if I went up to the front of the class and screamed "FREE SLUSHIES DOWN THE HALL PEOPLE" and ran out the hallway with a herd of people behind me. Or what if I'd pull the fire alarm and then just made a run for it? Or what if I punched the kid next to me and see his reaction? Or what if...

Yeah no you probably see what I mean. 

But I think you can agree with me when I see that imagination rides on the train of thought full speed once the sun's out of sight. 

Seriously, it's such a pain sleeping when you keep thinking about one thing to the next, usually something that's related to the crappy day you just had. 

Oh wait, what was I supposed to be talking about?

Ah, right. 

Well, before I continue onward through the love tunnel, let me make something clear of myself - I am NOT interested in dating, (I mean, it's interesting, but not something I'd consider for myself), nor do I want to think about it until I'm at least in college. 

Sorry not sorry, I don't like the idea of holding hands or hugs or pinky swears or ANYTHING that involves contact. You've gotta earn my trust the hard way to even get a proper handshake from me - aka you must pass the requirements of being my friend (emphasize on FRIEND) for at least a few months. 

Yeah, I know, I'm weird. But I do not like any sort of physical contact. I'm the sort of person who gags if I see people making out (seriously though, on school grounds?). Like, last year I was talking to a teacher and she stopped me to yell at two students behind me to stop acting like their lips are glued to one another. 

Too much info? Well, I had to witness it, so feel sad for me. 

Second of all, parents. See, I'm Indian, and the only time a boyfriend should even be mentioned is if I'm twenty seven and I'm marrying the next day. 

One of my friends were asked out to homecoming last week, but she told her [Indian] dad, who told her mother, and that caused a domino of problems on her part. Long story short, she ended up not going. 

Yeah I'm not gonna give my dad a reason to buy a gun from Walmart, so I'll just keep the forbidden away from them. 

Lastly, why does society expect you to gift one another? I mean, it's basically useless to do so. You're gonna have to break up eventually. So what's the point? I don't know about you, but I don't really like the idea of having to get my S.O. a gift. I'm CHEAP. Heck, I can't even buy myself a proper donut, and you expect me to give him something for existing? Yeah no. All gifts must be one way - me. Give me stuff, and I'll give you my gratitude. Nothing more, nothing less. See, the only times I do give out a gift if it causes the other person some sort of embarrassment. 

I practically sent Rachael a mariachi band (without instruments) on her birthday 'cause I knew how much she hated attention.

(They gave her balloons and sang and danced in front of her P.E. class, according to witnesses. Best day ever.)

The look on her face was definitely worth it. 

But honestly, even considering these reasons, I've always wondered what would happen if someone did actually confess to me. How would I respond? 

Most likely scenario: I scream. "ha. ahahHAHA. HAHAHAHHAHAHHA. That's COOL. But not like ice. I mean ice tastes good, but like I swallowed it once and it was painful. You know what else is painful? The agony  thirty bucks I'm gonna have to pay to my friend I bet against about this very situation. You suck. I could've bought 30 donuts with that money. Welp. Gottagonowbuhbye" Then imagine me racing away to hide under the nearest car. 

I really like my donuts. 

In all honesty though, I doubt that's ever going to happen. Why else would I bet against my friend it wouldn't happen? I'm putting my donuts at risk. But I did the math before she could. There's 0.00167% chance that such an incident that will happens. My donuts are safe. 

I really really like my donuts. 

But if by some freak of a miracle it happens - I'll be in tears of joy and sadness. Joy cause like, wow someone actually cares and sadness cause oh no this dude's gonna steal all me donuts. 

I really really really like them donuts. 

Wow, I talked a lot about me in this post. I feel like the many of us have the same thought process though. Ok, maybe not Rachael. But everyone else in the world. 

We all want that moment. The moment to feel more special than anyone. Just for a moment. I'm always in awe when I see such moments in books and movies - so unrealistic, and yet so perfect. We all want to be the center of attention like that. 

I feel like a lot of people (including myself) have insecurities on why no one like-likes you yet. Maybe you're ugly. Maybe it's the hair. Maybe it's you're personality. Maybe maybe maybe...

And all I can say to that is...

The most important thing is that you learn to love yourself first. 

It'll happen. One day. 

There are 7 billion people in the world. Someone's bound to like you for who you are. Even the parts that you hate about yourself. Maybe it'll work out. Maybe not. You have to be wary of the world, but you must enjoy what you have at the same time. 

One day, that time will come. 

And one day you'll feel like the most special person in the world. 

It's all about the patience. It could be a week, a month, an year from now. 

But until then..grow. 

Grow and understand you, before you try to understand someone else. 

....aaaaand beautifully sculpted poem over. 

I should be payed for my works. 

Oof, look at the time. Did I really spend an hour working on this? Feels like ten minutes. But it's worth it. 

But you think my storybook on Love Ducks and Donuts are over? 

Ohho no. I'm only getting warmed up. There are things that I can tell you that not everyone knows about me. There are stories I can say that no one else have ever heard before. 

When will I tell them? 

Whenever I feel like it. Which could be a week, a month, an year....

It's all about the patience. 

Hahaha. 

And (this is mostly just to kill Rachael) it does involve another guy. 

You're welcome. 

Until then, goodnight, good morning, whatever it is,skip class and nap all day 'cause you deserve it. 

Tune in next time, fellow readers,

-Ganga 

(PS Rachael don't constantly texting me asking "WHO" it's gonna take a lot more than that to get me to spit out what's in me.)