The Panic Cord

The part that’s scary, is that there is no escape plan.

You don’t get to pull an emergency cord or shatter the glass on a fire extinguisher when it gets “too much”. That’s why its scary. It’s exhilaratingly scary. Love doesn’t understand or recognise risk analysis or pros vs cons.

I became a dreamer. A day dreamer who smiled in the bus ride all alone imagining all the scenarios of how someday he would know how much I love him and he would love me back. How we would have endless conversations, laugh eternally and be happy. Together.

I used to be on top of the world for some stupid thing he had said, kept blushing for hours, and by Archimedes principle, the more of him that entered my heart, made more of me spill on to the paper. I knew there was poetry within me, and I saw what I was capable of.

The part that’s scarier, unrequited love.

He made me more sensitive to myself, I felt like everything got to me, and even more when it had to with him. Whenever I saw him with someone else, I could feel how the walls that kept my lungs together crumbled down and left me breathless. I felt really empty, worthless because I had always been the person who waves at the train, and he was always the person who was busy finding his own seat. I hated him for leaving, but not as much as I hated myself for having hoped that he would stay.

Yet, he taught me that I could save myself, that I didn’t need him at all. He taught me how important it actually is to love oneself first and know when to walk away.

I was in love with someone I couldn’t have had, yet there is something so enjoyable in the waiting, in the pain of holding on, because there is hope, because even if you know it will never happen, there is always the chance that it might. So it keeps hanging. And he taught me what hope really is.  He taught me how to treasure moments and remember.

One knowingly or unknowingly chases after therapy in a simple yet hopeful attempt to feel understood – a silent cry for empathy. We get comfortable with whatever that helps us feel less alone. With whatever that makes us realise that something bigger is a part of the endeavour that we’re venturing on.

Something that makes our soul feel more of a home in our body than at a stranger’s abode. We open up to the things we feel comfortable with, and when we open up, different parts of us inside start opening these little gates and ultimately venting out emotions that we long kept bottled in.

When that happens, we start unraveling the beautiful definition of us and start getting connected to the world in hope of living it to the best of it.

You think you’re in love. It’s the craziest idea in hindsight, but right then, oh boy, you had never felt anything better.

When I broke up, displaying naivety and gullibility in its purest form, it felt like my small heart tore into shreds. 

Maybe being so young makes the pain feel fresher, more alive, or maybe youth gives you less control over your feelings. Maybe it is the downright foolishness to let him consume all your thoughts and time in the first place, but damn, I cried, a lot.

Now, I tread a little more carefully; I take things a little slower. Looking back, I could say I regret ever being with the first boy I called my boyfriend, or I could thank him for teaching me so many things that can be wrong, and how I can have something so right.

There have probably been a hundred “Good morning, Beautiful!” and “Good night, Princess” messages that don’t really have any significance because we all know that the adjectives are as superficial as their intentions.

For all that, I keep an infinite amount of  “I’m enough” and  “I’ll be fine”.

I bring with me a few dozen “I don’t need anybody’s validation,” at all times.

And to get me through the toughest rides, I bring a purse-full  of  “I’m complete on my own” and tiny packets of  “I’m sorry” for when I hurt myself in the process.

I give myself a pat on the back and hand myself out a little card that says “I’m proud of you,” and we march on trying our very best never to look back.

I almost levitate as I walk this tight rope they call love. But when I fall, I fall hard.


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