“People move on, get hurt, come back and find me there still.”

On reconnecting with a man who used to have a crush on me a decade ago. He still remembers the crush. Told him I was always just a text away. There is nothing worse than two lonely friends not connecting with each other. It just kills me when my single eligible bachelor friends come and tell me how lonely they are. I am like, dude, am I invisible or what? I am single eligible and available, why are we not dating?

It was a day of re-connecting with friends, What’sApp makes it convenient. These friends from those days…a friend who annoys me but also makes me laugh uncontrollably, a friend who I flirt with, a friend who smiles a lot but doesn’t really give a damn, a friend I slept with. None of these have changed, and that’s a good thing. Perhaps its true what House says, “People don’t change.” They just move on because that’s what everybody should do.

Life is all about moving forward, from one milestone to another, and its best not to look back. That’s most people’s life. And then there is my life, which is not a vertical. My life is spread across these boats floating over a beautiful lake. I am constantly jumping around from one boat to another. I am moving, but I am going nowhere.

Reconnecting with these friends reminded me of that man, that last man I fell in somewhat-like-love with. I don’t know where he is, last time we spoke I told him “I would wait for your call.” He said he will call. He never did, never does, never will do. We had spent such beautiful time together, suddenly everything changed for him. It always is like that and I am not sure if its my life or are there other women who met such men. They just move on so easily and you are left to wonder was I really that dispensable?

Somebody said these days I am either a House MD fan or a horrible feminist. I think I like that description for myself. I love House, his sarcasm, his malice, his pain, his genius. So my love for men, so many of them as you can see, and my love for Dr. House, that rude, obnoxious man who constantly makes sexist remarks about women’s dress, makes me a horrible feminist. But a feminist nonetheless.

I guess I will always believe that most feminists are heart broken romantics.

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