To love

This is my first post for the year 2017.

Within less than two months, my life had a whirlwind sort of turn. It was the least expected of all things - happened so fast and died a little too prematurely as well.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.

This is a quote I really should have held on. But I did not. I have been guarding my heart so well for the past half a decade or so. I failed this time. I truly failed. For this, I have no excuses. Now, the heart has been wrung and possibly broken.

How do I deal it as a 30-something?

I am no longer the naive, vulnerable 25-year-old who got so trapped and bonded emotionally. I always think that I could handle things much better now that I have grown older and (hopefully) more mature. I started off this whole 'fling' thinking it is a just a fling. I played along because I thought, hey what is the harm, it is just for fun. Curiosity on both sides. I thought this so-called fling would just be a fun idea for a boring spinster working and studying whole day long. I thought it could just make me laugh once in a while. No strings attached.

A small part of me, however, knew that I should still be cautious. I have had bad histories of being broken by people - should have known better. I attempted to clarify a few times but never reached any clear statement. Maybe we talked too much too early into getting to know each other. Imagine something like 27423 lines everyday over whatsapp. We divulged into so many areas of life that I never thought a guy would discuss with me. Some things warmed me up. In the midst of it all, my sleep deprivation piled on, yet the smiles lighted on my face. It was really fun, maybe just on my side. For the first time in years, I actually felt that I really had to look at the phone hoping it was him who replied.

No, it did not last long. Perhaps we just fizzled out. Or, him getting bored of me. Or, the fact that he had a good think of every thing and decided no. Soon enough, the good mornings and good nights become less. They disappeared last night. For the first time in almost two months, I went to bed without the good night. The emojis become less and less each day. Soon, it would just be.... nothing.

Maybe I have been wrong about myself. Some things, once started, form a habit. A habit so hard to break. When the absence starts filling in, a piece of you die.. and every time I think of it, I die a little.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Indeed.


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