The Thing Called Love

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One of those not ‘feeling good’ day I am having and I thought maybe writing will help me little bits. What is bothering me no one knows and maybe even I don’t but whatever it must be I hope it dies soon. Just the kind of day I want to cry or maybe even howl but I cannot. Kind of day where I want to snap out at everyone and without reason.

Somehow since I came back to blogging after a gap I forget all the rules of the game. I am no more particular of what I write. I hardly visit much blogs (of which I am sorry), hardly use my favorite prompt sites, and it doesn’t bother much if I am losing my readership base. Maybe this place has become my personal diary where I just have to take out and things make sense. One of the advantages of being semi anonymous I guess.

Now back to the problem. Life is little bit mess right but I know it will be fine once vacation ends and the same hectic schedule starts. But I become too much of an overthinker till then. And even worse when things go sane. Last month was in many mess, health wise mostly. Also, stopped being the nice one. Yet, I felt sane. And now when life is again better, I feel crap. Mended some old bonds and I am glad. Maybe I should not have. Caring brings the worse in me. But I need it. For my mental peace too. Also, after a brief moment, my muse disappointed me once again. And I let it die a silent death. Doesn’t mean he will never make a comeback. He will be around. Just. Maybe because I dreamed of his coldness last night that I am much more messed.

Someone, once destroyed me for love. And thereafter I only made mistakes. Hurt people, got hurt, became a cold persona. Stopped feeling. Became too selfish for anyone to know. Then muse came and I saw hope. He didn’t do anything new now. But I realised let’s not have a story. For I am poles apart from what I was. I just lost the ability to love and patience for it. I might want a companion, but according to my whims and fancies, and that is not how it works.

This doesn’t mean I stopped having fun. I share a smile, sometimes a coffee. I flirt around. I like being crushed upon. But that is it. Last time I went ahead and formed a relationship, I damaged him and never cared. I became so cold that I had no morose of it ending. This wasn’t me. But alas it is.

You must be thinking a believer like me saying all this. Yes, I believe. The mushy stuff I write makes me hope. Or maybe I love my dreams. It is these imaginations which make me happy after a bad day. Fairytales aren’t for me, but I still delve in them for they are my happy quotient. I still hope I be proved wrong. But life is beyond those words and hopes. Love is much beyond those kisses and embrace. It is also about tears, separations and hurtful words. It has ability to thrash us so hard that we never pick up our pieces. I am still picking mine. I do want a happy ending, but maybe without love. But living loveless is not how God made a person like me. He filled in too much feelings in me. He made for me poetry, to feel it in the misery. He made me to give it all, and yet be happy with it. One part of it died long ago. Then I discovered the other. I relish my tales, my mush, my movie kind of imaginations. But these are things that sell. Not kind that happen to us, writers. We end up alone at times. Dying with a book in one hand and ink spilled pages in another.

Too much pessimism happened right ? What to do. Sometimes smiles refuse to reach my lips. Forget eyes. In attempt to make other laugh, I lost mine maybe. Or maybe I got tired of doing things and giving all what others’ need. Maybe I do need a kind word once a while. Or be pampered with all love they have. Sometimes it is important to express, and sometimes its important to feel what others have for you. Sometimes all we want, is to hold hand with someone and just watch the sky at night. But even that is scary now. For then we expect and then it pains.

Once I never cared if it hurts, I was overflowing with love. Even if he berated me, I found an excuse for that and I was often true. For, he did fell in love. Just never knew how to show and was scared if he did it will hurt more. But he forgot, that is all I had to take away when he left. Maybe he was right, because inspite of showing less, I am a bundle of his memories. For he took my soul away, and one night told me, he felt that his soul left to enter mine. And that is still my most cherish memory. We were two souls, fighting a distance, having a silly lover’s conversation post midnight on the phone and a moment changed it all. I felt a white invisible angelic force embracing me and so he did. And thereafter, I called him the soul mate. But then, it is said, soul mates never meet, for they are not meant for mundane tasks. But I never want to settle for anything less than that. But irony is no two loves are same. I might love again but not similarly. And I still hope, I still search, maybe I do have some ending. Some closure. He does the same. Even now. We still communicate in distress. But know our realities.

Some people say, we can have many soul mates. Some even call them best friends. I still wish I have not exhausted my quota. Maybe I should steal one from the heavens. But all I know is my quota for hurt is way overflowing and if I do feel once again and it goes dramatically wrong, I will be done with even hope. And that is one reason I have stopped feeling too, even if the other showers all the love. For I am wary of humans. I don’t want to be an object to be played upon anymore and I wouldn’t be. It will take too much patience for anyone to make me believe in their feelings. I just don’t hope. But if they can make me believe and crack my shield, I am sure they will be worth it. Only a messiah can heal. Only he can make me believe. And make it known that beautiful love is worth it. I hope he exists. Till then, I console my heart to be thankful that atleast he has known love.

I wish, I believe, I hope……love still exists….for me.

P.S. I have too much building inside and I didn’t even said half of it today. Maybe some other day. So be prepared for more such introspective rants when my mood goes disgruntled.

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8 thoughts on “The Thing Called Love

  1. and That is how one shud live life .. thinking that love exists .. and one day everyone will find it for sure and have a good life..
    looking forward to more of it all 🙂

  2. Love, lust, anger, fear, disenchantment… All symptoms of a well lived life. A happy life now that is a rarer thing.

    Seems you have quite the subtle remorse for breaking hearts than for the pain of being broken, and that’s how it should be…but after a while we all need to forgive ourselves or we’ll never have the opportunity to be human again…

    Love a little lust a little, be warm a little, be cold a little…let life find u again

    • I have remorses for losing but no regrets. But those things shaped me so I have in many ways forgiven myself.
      True. Love a little. Lust a little. Nice to see you here after long 🙂

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