I picture the heart like a switchboard--the heart in my head is a big, red valentine with sharply cut corners--and this switchboard has all these landlines hanging off it, all warm and pulsating, marked with names or relationships. 'Friend From College' or 'Travel Companion'.
And the one marked 'Love' is white-hot and angry, as words whisper themselves out of the receiver and into your veins. This, then, is what they call 'bad blood'. And horrible things said to you gently, begin to become a part of your heartbeat, you start to believe with every lub-dub-I-am-a-bad-girlfriend-lub-dub and before you can stop yourself, you start assimilating all those things that took you so many years to detox from.
So, is it so wrong to pick up that hot line with its cold voice and hang up? *Click* goes your heart and your mind. The connection was bad ages ago, anyway.
(And that's all for now I'll say about me and JC. I am Cleopatra, I keep telling my friends who (bless them all) have been calling at regular intervals to check in, Queen of Denial. Instead I shall update you about the rest of my tour in nice capital letters so you can't say you have no information.
BANGALORE! FRIDAY THE 10TH! At 6.30 pm, at the Reliance Time Out Cafe on Cunningham Road. I'll read (like Speedy Gonzales), chat a little bit and will be super happy if there are lots of people and lots of questions (come on, I need some validation here!)
HYDERABAD! SATURDAY THE 11TH! 6 pm at the Odyssey Bookstore, Jubilee Hills. Similar itinary (itenary?) so come!
Kovalam was lovely, and I'm in Bangalore now, about to be taken out by a most kind friend of a friend. Expect more on the travel post front when I return.
And don't worry about me, gentle reader, I'll be fine. Anon commentors, lay off, or I'll bite you, I swear. And not in a good way either.