Of love and hate

I saw him all night. In my dreams. That would explain why there was no violence when we met. Eachtime I meet him, I feel the same way as I do when I am happy and enjoying just being myself. That's how I know that I love him a little more than I hate him. Now when we talk over the phone, our conversations always lead down on oft-beaten path. And the only reason we have lasted as friends as long as we have is probably because, as I once told him, we don't live in the same city. It's as if we both sharpen tongues and claws after 2 minutes of curtesy talks. 

"Hi! Whatcha upto?"

"Hey! Nothing in particular, yaar. Just got back from office. So, what made you call me?"

"Can't I even call you just to ask how you are?"

"Ofcourse, you can. Why do you have to get offended by everything I say?"

"Offended?! I'm not offended. You just seem to twist everything to mean something else altogether."

Blah, blah, blah. Grrrrowwll.

Silence for 1 or 2 months and then more often than not, the conversation goes as mentioned above.

The scariest part, when I think in retrospection, is that it does not even matter who said what in the above dialogue. We both have used at point or another.

Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Sigh.

I need to gargle with some vodka tonight.