“All that love is – steps between hello and hell.”
I am now three decades into this thing called life, having achieved certain things my teenage soul never aspired to.
And I wonder what I actually have accomplished.
Yes, in certain ways I am in a happy place. I love what I do in work, even on the worst days. I have good friends who would visit and submit my introvert self to much needed interaction. I have a bookshelf for my gluttonous desires and my weekends are filled with video games, movies, tv series, cooking and reading. I have a place all to myself furnished as per my want.
So where does this emptiness come from?
People mention depression in multiple meanings, and being in a mental health firm I feel I should be wiser than that. But that’s how it works. I don’t know if I have it, never been treated for it, and not a fan of using it to excuse my behaviour or my feeling.
So that’s all I will mention of it here. I just know there is a sense of frugality in my expectations and my achievements. My present is of equal value if not lesser than my past and my future is insignificant to both.
Living in the moment. Carpe Diem. Heh.
Coming to love, yes – I atleast can confirm I am a romantic. I believe in love at first sight, at going beyond personal interests to spend moments with the ones you care for – and treating what you saw flaws in others as beautiful quirks in them.
Love is blind. Future too.
Coming back to my age, it’s marriage season. People around me are getting hitched, and couple photoshoots and schedules are the rage. And here I am – so broken out of love yet so whole in exclusion from all this.
I don’t know what I feel. There is little envy of marriage, but so much of love. Some would say they go hand in hand – I would beg to differ. A personal opinion, but I feel love can lead to marriage, marriage cannot lead to love. Both of them just lead to or already include compromise.
And that’s fine. People are different and they live different lives. When those lives collide, concessions must be made. Rarely do two individuals have the same interests, the same paths – so a common one leads to sacrifices by all involved, in ways big and small. Which is beautiful – learning to love others beyond yourself.
Not so much when you never learnt to love yourself. All that leads into is suspicion that your love isn’t worth much or isn’t much in general. And I need to be sure that it is – or else I will lapse into negligence of someone who actually might have cared for me.
So, what’s the grand summary in all this? What am I trying to say? Not much – all I do is try to share. My conflicts, my thoughts, my expression. My hope of love and so much more.
And hope it is fine to have the strength to be alone even when you never wanted to be. Or have the courage to fall into love and never give up on it.
In the end, I am a fledging scribe who just had words - nothing more. Not even much of a heart I guess to bleed when the ink runs dry.
In the end, I hope I am beautiful in my broken way. In that, I never needed to be whole. All I needed was empty space that every day filled witn things, random or desired, till it crumbled into dust in a forgotten grave.
Half a century later.
Or tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment