Sharath Iyengar > Recent Status Updates

I shake my head, so much to think about. It's tempting to reach out and touch him, but like a small child, he's so lovely whe he's asleep. I don't have to worry about what I'm saying, what he's saying, what plans he has, especially his plans for me.

I let out the breath that I've been holding. Why is he so damned attractive. Right now I want to go and join him in the shower. I have never felt this way about anyone. My hormones are racing. My skin tingles where his thumb traced over my face and lower lip. I'm squirming with a needy, achy discomfort. I don't understand this reaction. Hmm, DESIRE! This is desire. This is what it feels like.

What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome tears pool in my eyes. I sink angry at myself for this senseless reaction. I want to make myself as small as possible. Perhaps this nonsesical pain will be smaller the smaller I am. I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. Mourning something that never was- my dashed hopes, my dashed dreams and my soured expectations.

Okay - I like him. There, I've admitted it to myself. I cannot hide from my feelings anymore. I've never felt like this before. I find him attractive, very attractive. But it's a lost case, I know, and I sigh with bittersweet regret. It was just a coincidence. But still, I can admire him from afar, surely. No harm can come of that.

Sometimes, I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Perhaps I've spent too long in the company of my literary romantic heroes, and consequently my ideals and expectations are far too high. But in reality, nobody's ever made me feel like that.

He's not merely good-looking. He's the epitome of male beauty. Breathtaking.

Immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things.
A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled. I'm very singular, driven. I like control - of myself and those around me.
As ever, distraction is the best policy.

Mistakes are made, regrets form and all that was left were repercussions that made something as simple as rising from the bed seem almost laborious.
His own life had been the best story ever, the kind that should have ended on a happy note. As he reached for the door, he felt the familiar rush of memory and regret. Only later, after he let the memories overtake him once again, would he allow himself to wonder.

He felt as though he was failing in practically every area of his life. Lately, happiness seemed as distant and unattainable to him as space travel. He hadn't always felt this way. There had been a long period of time during which he remembered being very happy.. But things change. People change. Change was one of the inevitable laws of nature, exactly it's toll on people's lives.

I really haven't. I'm not quite sure I ever will completely. But time does help- regenerates one's capacity for hope. After a while you begin to believe you might actually meet someone you trust.

The most painful part of growing up is discovering that nobody's perfect.

She seemed genuinely concerned. This was not the pseudo-sophisticate, the advocate of Free Love who had remained a virgin till her wedding day. This was someone who was trying to tell a friend she really cared for that, sadly, nothing in life is perfect. A fact that evidently had been slow to learn.

A small gesture. But it was the best thing that had happened to him in weeks.

Strange, isn't it? Even after what he's done, he's still the only one who can really comfort me... But love and hate don't seem to cancel each other out. They can coexist and drive you mad.

That's precisely what I didn't want. If I made him choose, there'd always be a chance I'd lose him.

That's precisely what I didn't want. If I made him choose, there'd always be a chance I'd lose him.

In the long-ago college days, Margo had always talked as if watching herself in a mirror. As she grew older, she began redirecting her considerable analytical gifts to those around her. Narcissism, once her all-embracing way of life, was now merely an occasional indulgence.

You know, we have a lot in common. We both were happy once.

To respond to another person when you are in pain, there must be a lot of trust between you.

Once is more than never. If you don't feel it, don't play it. I wish I had it in me to really hurt you back. I wish I could at least express.

Mature passion is not immutability, it is growth.
Perhaps it was the aura of sadness in her soft hazel eyes.
You are and will always be a beautiful memory.
Because it's important to me that you understand: She was mine in life and she is mine in death.
But the mind is not an organ. The brain is not the seat of the soul.
Dealing with someone you care for makes you painfully aware of your own fallibility.

"We should treasure the moments" - For me these words had a penumbra of sadness. They served to remind me that the idyll could not last forever.
Once in a while I dared to ponder about the future. But it seemed so fraught with pain that I couldn't bear even thinking about the inevitable separation that lay ahead of us.
There was no way I could envisage a life in the real world where we would be together.

Knowing isn't synonymous with liking. Not consciously, but I must have carried these feelings with me.

But I've found that I relate the sadness I'm watching to events in my own life. It's kind of socially respectable excuse to recall old griefs.

What's remained of me? Oh, I haven't forgotten how to laugh or toss off a remark, I'm just as good, if not better. I can still flirt and be amusing, if I want to be... But there's a catch. I'd like to live that seemingly carefree and happy life for an evening, a few days, a week. At the end I want friends, not admirers. People who respect me for my character and my deeds, not my flattering smile.

Sometimes I think God is trying to test me, both now and in the future. I'll have to become a good person on my own, without anyone to serve as a model or advise me, but it'll make me stronger in the end. Who else but me can I turn to for comfort? I'm frequently in need of consolation, I often feel weak, and more often than not, I fail to meet expectations. I know this, and every day I resolve to do better.

Paper has more patience than people.
You never know what you're good for.
...But I'm not sorry. memories mean more to me.
We weren't interested in impressions. We just wanted to get out of there, to get away and reach our destination in safety. Nothing else mattered.
You see, it's the silence that makes me so nervous.
I have plenty of dreams, but the reality is that we'll have to stay here.

I am a stomach sleeper, which says a lot about a person. Only 7 percent of people on
the planet sleep on their stomachs, and stomach sleepers are vain, gregarious, and overly sensitive.

He refused to wallow in self-pity. In fact, the worse things got for him, the more intent he seemed on making sure no one around him was saddened by it.
Wanting what you can't have, looking for self-worth in the mirror. I knew I had done all that. And the longer I went at it, the emptier I began to feel.

Because you are willing to accept people as they are. Nobody is perfect. That's okay.
She has a lot of guts. Yes, and a lot of love.
He had been a troubled child, a delinquent teen, a bad man. Could he still be saved?
I just cried. The kindness that takes. The belief. Picking up pieces of your dead. This is who we are. This beautiful faith.

Faith is about doing. You are how you act, not just how you believe. When the time comes, I think I'll know what to say. But what stays the same in life? I thought I was being asked a favor, when in fact I was being given one. If I promise to give myself to you, will you save me tonight? It is my most fervent prayer of the day. Here on earth, falling is less dramatic. You drift, you wander off. I know, I did it.