Slut by the society

I am a slut.
I am a whore.
I am also a bitch.
And to your amazement, I'm just 21.
I was walking down the street the other day in the clothes they call uncultured. My dress barely covered my knees, my shoulder cut made it worse, high heels and make up was a double plus.
They didn't bother to talk to me, they didn't even ask me my name. They assigned me a title, 'slut' for being dressed this way.
And then came my friends in a car, 2 boys of my age. Well dressed they were too, for a party we had to attend. So I sat in their car, and to people I was a whore. I danced with them, I was too loud for girl. And so they declared I could be easily convinced to get into the bed.
I pushed the guy away from me, who tried to touch me thinking it was his right to do so as I was drunk. I declined his proposal and refused his love because to me I thought my consent was enough.
But because I was a slut and a whore to the society, too dressed up and too loud, my consent meant nothing, so now they also declared me a bitch.
I chose a career which degraded my image because who would marry a girl working at night? Because a woman getting money for home was nothing but a disgrace.
Of what I thought about being a rebel, they gave me another name much easy to sell.
I know what the society calls me, so I call myself with those names too.
I called myself a rebel, but now I know, I am a slut, a whore and everything easier to sell.

Part 6 - Not so numb.

The edges with friends are too fine to cut through. One mistake, one inappropriate action, one misleading deed and everything spoils.
I've been seeing those grey eyes and curly hair since I was two. We were inseparable. Best of friends one might say. But it all changed 12 years back, on prom night of our high school.
He had asked me to the prom and we were dancing. The steps matched but it wasn't passionate.
But as we danced through the night we felt something, if not love then satisfaction of being around each other. It was the same night I had my first kiss, and he was the same person I tried to find in everyone. That night on the rooftop, his coming close to me made me uncomfortable but he promised to be my knight, little did I know I wasn't searching for a knight, I was searching for love. So that night when he promised to be my knight forever, he pulled me closer and kissed me. We dated for a month and then he left the town. We tried working on long distance but it just wasn't enough. He said he couldn't do it, so that is how we lost contact. Lost contact until now.
That night when we lost contact, I was too upset at losing him. I don't remember anything clearly but in bits and pieces. I had cried all night, I had lost my strongest bond in a blink of an eye.
I used to write diary back then, every night before going to sleep. But that day, I didn't. I never wanted to remember how I felt that day and never wanted to feel that again.
But when I lost Roan, I felt it all over again. The pain, it never dies after all. It gets buried somewhere deep inside with time and we confuse it for healing when the reality is we never really heal, we get numb instead.
Numb till we find someone capable of making us feel the same, again.
But after all this time, here was he, my best friend being the knight in shining armour, yet again.
I crossed the barrier of being numb. I started to feel again. We went uphills in the middle of the night and he brought us an ice cream. We played skrillex in our car in the loudest volume. Drank the finest vodka and danced and swayed along the chilled breeze.
I couldn't believe I was with him after so long and we were still the high school best friends with no past grudges. We had after all grown apart for so long and found someone along the way to make us forget the bitter memories of the past.
That night we slept in the car just to wake up to some nostalgic memories.
Two kids going to school holding hands as a symbol of forever just like us in the good old times. So we held hands again like the old times. I couldn't believe my fate, couldn't believe I was with Gurshahaaz, my shahaaz.

Part 5 - A new beginning.

7 years, 2 months and 3 days since Roan abandoned me on this planet. Every morning I wake up next to his picture, wish him a very good morning and get ready for the day.
Every day, I treat myself as he would . And every night before going to bed, I put the lullaby on that I recorded while he sang it to me for the first time, give his picture a goodnight kiss and sleep.
I've been treating myself and working on myself. Never really thought someone could replace him. And maybe nobody ever did. There are so many detailed memories of our time together that replacing him seems to be impossible. For me, it would be unjust if I'd say another guy can take his place in my life.
People talk about heartbreak and losing a person. I've been there and I know better than most people, but in the process of healing myself, never have I had a thought of being a sadist. Or maybe I was too busy in his memories that I almost forgot I suffered from a loss.
But in these 7 years and 2 months, I never experienced happiness. And by happiness, I mean the serene satisfaction that your soul gets. Not like a two minute long laughter, but proper happiness that last in your bones, makes you feel alive.
Not until yesterday. Not until I met him, again.
Same grey eyes, twitching nose, slightly curled hair. A little taller than before, and a little skinner, and with facial hair which weren't there before. But the most important part that he carried was his aura. As pure as it ever was.
After years had I met someone worth sharing my childhood place with. After years I met my childhood friend, again. After years I think I made a friend again.

                                                                                                                                   To be continued....