Love.
By: Parigya Verma
Tags: Philosophy, Emotions, Romance, Feelings, Love

This escape, although extremely unsettling for me to look back to, provided me with an opportunity to take it all out. I dreamt, I thought, I wrote. I was oblivious to the wrong in my life; my mind and hands were too busy putting my dreams on paper. It was almost as if this idea of love had given me an end goal, a deadline to be precise. It was this ‘end’ that fuelled me to do everything I could to shorten the journey, but nothing happened. I was disappointed, but not disheartened. My faith in love continued to soldier on. It was only when as I grew up more and more, and my horizons expanded more and more till they couldn’t possibly avoid the broken mess that lay behind the worlds I had constructed, was when I realised that there was no going back from this.

I wouldn’t say it is easy to suddenly have the ability to see gaping voids in relationships or to see broken marriages being held together by threads named ‘children’ and ‘financial limitations’ because it wasn’t, it never really is, but it wasn’t as painful as realising that were no fixed goal at the end of this journey that made everything ‘worth it’. With that part of growing up, coupled with a lot of whirlpools in most of my platonic relationships, teen-me had made a decision — Love wasn’t for me. It was a beautiful garden filled with all joys and generosities but cordoned off by the jharokhas of my palace. Maybe it is amazing, maybe it isn’t; all that matters is that I would never know for sure. After all, love could be a big scam implemented through societal conditioning to encourage marriage, which in turn would help in property ownership. Plus, I am a strong independent woman who needs no partner, right?

This rhetoric settled comfortably in my head, until it actually shattered, and in the most unexpected ways possible. I had just stepped into my college and was in the middle of a protest (Yes, take that Romeo and Juliet) where I met him. Within two days, we became best friends, and 15 days after that- we were together! Everything that happened within those 15 days was perhaps all the things unlike me combined, yet everything… fit? I remember talking to my best friend of 10 years, slightly arguing rather, because I could not understand why something that felt right was so illogical for her? Well, I admit, it was illogical in general. At one point, she gave up, and she concluded her case by a single line that has stuck with me ever since —

“If you really in your heart feel that this right, go do it. Even if I say no, I know you’re going to do it anyway.”

Yeah, she has a flair for the dramatics, I still love her though.

After this amazing whatever-this-was, it took me a while to realise that this is when ‘lou’ really begins. Sure, the yearning, longing is legitimate, and it really does feel like everything nice and bright when you finally get the love of your life, but it is only when you spend time with them to cultivate a relationship where everything really starts. It really is astonishing to see how just one healthy relationship can work wonders for your emotional well-being. You put in love and effort into your bond together, and it gives you back in terms of growth. And it is true. This past year has been taught me that love isn’t wonderful because of it simply being ‘love’; it is beautiful because of the respect, understanding and comfort it brings with it. Love may start with butterflies, but it is sustained by a warm, comforting, peace.

This past year has taught me that love isn’t perfect, and that it isn’t supposed to. It has made me understand that while relationships aren’t perfect, humans aren’t too- and when I am able and ready to forgive, I should. I’ve learned that love doesn’t guarantee happiness, only I do. I have understood that both of us still have a lot of growing up to do, and a lot of worlds to conquer, and I can’t wait.

This year managed to turn a girl who didn’t believe that love was for her, into the girl who keeps slapping her love every chance she gets. I don’t know if it’s because of the magic of ‘lou’ or the magician himself.

I bet it’s the magician. He keeps getting hit anyway.