Blame it on Stupid Cupid

Prologue: My friend’s thirteen year old daughter grumbled that life has become quite boring without a boyfriend.  And the charming mom had  a tough time explaining to the little girl, that it is not yet time for her to have a ‘boy friend’.  I applaud the way the mom convinced her daughter with a simple logic, clean and clear. She explained that falling in love makes one confined to a person, and it’s a waste of time and energy, and you tend to lose a lot of fun, which you may otherwise have with a larger bunch, and that’s it! The girl was convinced and glad, probably that she found it attractive to keep more options open. 

The beauty of being in love, I have felt, is that you tend to have a glow on your cheeks, a smile on your lips and a glitter in your eyes. You don’t get angry fast, making your life peaceful, especially so if you are married. You gain a lot more tolerance, and your marriage will sail smoother. You tend to lose weight, as your palpitation would be a bit on the run and you don’t feel hungry. And when you look at the mirror, you just look beautiful. When you don’t look at the mirror, you feel beautiful. That is love. It will be even more charming if you manage to keep it discreet known to just the two of you. At some point desire creeps in , making your talks even more confined to the fantasies of the body and the soul. But all of these will get obliterated in a matter of few months, and then you start living in the memory of the love you shared initially. What used to be your urge to spent the “our time together”, becomes a confinement. The talks you used to have about anything under the sun, becomes now, petting each other, demanding, claiming, proving, reassuring, promising and compromising. Your world diminishes to just the both of you and a vibrant soul just cannot survive and breathe in that well of love.

I had been in love a few times, always with the ‘wrong - est’ person, for varying reasons. And invariably it is I who fall out of love . But what went wrong mostly was the so called possessiveness which creeps in, along with the intense love. And I just cannot stand it. I am a very freedom loving person, and not of a love-material, I guess. I refuse to confine myself to the love cavity. I need happenings. I need the thrill which drew me to him. I need to talk about the umpteen things, we used to, without thinking for a minute if that would be hurting him. I want to be in the world, flying with him, and sometimes alone. I need my space. I need time and fun with my friends. I need to love others as well. When all of these start hurting him, I feel being stuffed into a genie jar. And when I cannot stand that anymore, I just exhale out of the jar, and fly off, leaving him with the broken pieces of china. And what I feel is a pinch of pain, a little guilt, and a real big sigh of relief.

But for the first time in my life, I felt possessiveness over a man. I do not know what made me become so low as to spoil his fun, by wearing a big face, and doing a lot of ‘drama’, with no acting. I just wanted him as mine, his voice for me, his love for me.. and for me alone. Oh my! what lovely pain I experienced. The tug of war between my reasonable mind and the spoiled heart, swelled in my throat. He just lent me his shoulders and I realize that I love him, no matter what. Is it that I am truly in love for once, or is it that age is catching up?