4 days and I've not had one single meal– surviving on air and water. "Who cares, Jannat?" I ask myself and answer myself, "nobody". A forty year old married man calls me at night these days and goes, "Jannat, what do you need beta?" — "Clonotril, sir'', "no sir, not the combination", "yes, 0.5 mg", "no sir, I won't abuse it, don't worry", "yeah regularly, sometimes when things get too tough", "no sir, nobody's bothering me, I'm single, it's just my brain", "thank you so much for checking on me, sir", I reply to each of his stupid flirts and he brings me leaflets of clonazepam the next day– no prescription, no record. Thank God I'm alive because of it. I have come to believe that men will put all the effort into someone he thinks isn't in his reach, the moment you make them feel you're theirs, boom, the love bombing disappears. My man always kept my cup full so I never needed anyone from the outer world to come pour into me but lately I've come to discover that it was all pretentious little stunts that he performed on me. It's been 4 days since I've eaten a grain but who cares. The two or three guys from my hometown, the married professor, the junior who still looks at me with love in his eyes and that one pervert. They care but I'm not thirsty for their attention. I'm thinking of fasting for ten days starting from tomorrow without telling these men. I believe they'll be the ones to check on me if I disappear because the man I put my trust into never did.
andulkaphoto
2087
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