Dreaming with so much ugliness

I often spend hours imaging this elaborate scene in my head. I’m standing in a hot pink dress. My hair is long and tousled sexily. I’m wearing the slightest makeup but it hardly shows on my almost perfect skin. I have four inch prada heels on and a drink in my hand. My group of adoring friends are standing in a circle around me. Someone makes a joke and I toss my perfect hair backwards, laugh prettily and raise my glass.

I look down and there he is. The asshole who burnt a hole in my heart, crushed and stampeded on it and then forgot to return my phone calls. Ofcourse, none other than the X factor.

With each dream his appearance gets worse. This time he’s bald and has a pot belly. He’s sitting alone and looking miserable. His shirt un tucked, his shoes unmatched and looking absolutely blah. He looks at me and for a second cannot believe his eyes.

He tries to say something but I look away untouched by his presence. Instead of running away and crying I sit directly in front of him. But he still doesn’t have the guts to say anything. Suddenly (this is my favorite part) the music slows down, the glasses stop clattering and the voices die down. The DJ announces that the club would like to welcome the world renowned writer Saba Khalid today. He goes on about he loves my sex and Karachi column. And I stand up gracefully take a little bow and the crowd claps appreciatively. throng sof waiters bring expensive drinks on the house towards me. I pick a nice pink one and raise it towards the X factor. He looks away flustered.

His wife returns to the table right then. She gets fatter and uglier in each dream. He knows exactly why I have my glass raised. He knows I’m thanking him for his betrayal. Showing gratitude for the mess he left. Because if it wasn’t for his cruelness, I’d never be able to be brave and show the world who I really am.

These crazy elaborate imaginings have done great things for me. Whenever I’m feeling down and leaving the house looking like a mess. I go back and change. Put something extraordinary on and then leave. Never in a million years do I ever want him to see me looking like a mess. When I feel tired from giving interviews and think I should just sit at home and become a nobody. I try again. Because I want to be more successful than him. When I gain weight…I….you get the idea. You might disagree with me and call me utterly superficial and stupid. But to me, looking fabulous and being successful is the best way of taking my own silent revenge.