Girl: Do you like me?
Boy: Not really
Girl: Do you want me?
Girl: Would you cry if I left?
Girl: Would you live for me?
Girl: Would you do anything for me?
Boy: No way
Girl: What would you choose: your life..orme?
Boy: My life
The girl runs away in shock and pain and the boy runs after her and says...
The reason you never cross my mind is because you're always on my mind.
The reason why I don't like you is because I love you.
The reason I don't want you is because I need you.
The reason I wouldn't cry if you left is because I would die if you left.
The reason I wouldn't live for you is because I would die for you.
The reason why I'm not willing to do anything for you is because I would do everything for you.
The reason I chose my life is because you ARE my life.
Now, once and for all, let me make this clear. When a girl asks a guy if he likes her, it is NOT the time to be smart alec-y. SO not the time. The whole rubbish about the 'real' reasons sound more to me like polished attempts at reversing a break-up scenario. Not funny, not very smart. Feelings are not oratorical competitions you nitwits.
Right. All in the world is right again. I can't BELIEVE someone sent me that with the heading: so sweeeeeeeet. I'll like to see the girl in the scenario say the same. Sheesh.
On to more serious stuff. This is one of the most heart-rending passages I've ever read:
This was the stuff their dreams were made of. On the day that Estha was Returned. Chalk. Blackboards. Proper punishments.
They didn't ask to be let off lightly. They only asked for punishments that fitted their crimes. Not ones that came like cupboards with built-in bedrooms. Not ones you spent your whole life in, wandering through its maze of shelves.
Without warning the train began to move. Very slowly.
Estha's pupils dilated. His nails dug into Ammu's hand as she walked along the platform. Her walk turning into a run as the Madras Mail picked up speed.
Godbless, my baby. My sweetheart. I'll come for you soon!
'Ammu!' Estha said as she disengaged her hand. Prising loose small finger after finger. 'Ammu! Feeling vomity!' Estha's voice lifted into a wail.
Little Elvis the Pelvis with a spoiled, special-outing puff. And beige and pointy shoes. He left his voice behind.
On the station platform Rahel doubled over and screamed and screamed.
The train pulled out. The light pulled in.
Excerpt from "The God of Small Things", by Arundhati Roy
Really, really beautiful book. Word after word, line after line, passage after passage, page after page of heartbreak. So that you never want to read it again. But you do (and not just because I'm studying it for paper 5, although that IS a pretty good reason), simply because of the sheer beauty of her words, and the compulsive-ness of the story. If you've never read it, go and read it now. And if you've read it, go and read it again.
In this book I've discovered the most beautiful, and also most heart-rending word: Naaley. Tomorrow.