My first love/heartbreak story

 

My first story

Love is the most bewildering and yet the most enchanting subject of all times. The lack of clarity in understanding love only adds to its allure. It surprises even those who have spent their lives believing that they know in their minds what exactly they are looking for. Despite its enormousness and ubiquity, the uniqueness of each story prevails. There are always new thoughts and feelings and unanticipated circumstances to discover that lead to people’s unification or separation. Some anecdotes of romance display peace, satisfaction, tranquility, and stability. In such tales, there is only seldom or no room for quarrels and discomfort. Here things are constantly ecstatic owing to a consistent show of fine behaviour by at least one of the two people in the relationship. I have had such an experience once which I do not regret. Mine is a simple story of coming across someone at school and witnessing the deepening of that bond until it eventually isn’t just friendship anymore. However, the real drama doesn’t begin till one of the two realizes what is going on. The thing that makes this ordinary story extraordinary is my personality, his temperament, my rules and stubbornness.

 I was stepping into a fairytale, but I didn’t know that it really was one until it was over. The truth is, I wasn’t looking for somebody; in fact I wanted to keep distance from romance and romantic love. I just knew a guy who was very simple, decent, sophisticated and well-mannered and there is only so much you can resist when somebody begins taking selfless care of you, is evermore polite and ready to wait for you. Things fell in place for me over a lengthy period of time. We knew each other, he was part of a gang, which I had nothing to do with. He was a gentleman, never impolite to girls in any way and I just silently and secretly admired it from a distance. I am, in simple words ‘complicated’ and am not ashamed of it. I think it makes me interesting. Since I come from a family background, where peace was mostly elusive, quarrels long lasting and respect to my mum usually invisible, there were certain things I was very particular about. I need to feel really important and would almost give up anything or anyone precious to me if I do not feel being treated like a priority. I also need to sense my superiority in terms of being wanted in the relationship. To state it more clearly, I like to know that I can go a day without talking to them, while they can’t. That they miss me more, text me first, call me more, would postpone other significant commitments for having a chat with me. These little things are quite attractive to me and there is always greater chance at impressing me with pampering and effort than through mind games and ignorance. I grew up watching my dad mistreating my mum when all she deserved was to be behaved towards with utmost respect and exceptional care. And though most girls want to see their father’s shadow in their husband or their dates, I’d rather die single than having someone with daddy’s traits. I never tried to figure out what I want, I just undoubtedly knew what I don’t and that has made all the difference.

 I had never given thought to being associated with him the way I eventually was. It took us long to officially call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, though we had long known the feelings existed and even expressed jealously, belongingness and that we held a special place for each other. Candidly speaking, he had tried to confess earlier when I responded awfully, pretending that I only liked him as a friend and was sarcastically sorry for crossing lines if so. This was because of my lack of understanding of me and of what I really desired. I was so busy sticking by my rules that I forgot that they were made for my interest in the first place. Also, I knew there was something between us, yet I wished to live in denial and lie to the mirror about adhering to my boundaries. Nevertheless, he resolved to wait even after I refused. In spite of all these hiccups the story unfolded ultimately bringing me joy and fulfillment. He was keen on taking care of me, crazy to meet, polite even in anger, bought me tiny gifts, eager to spend more time and absolutely respectful. He filled me with love whenever I was upset, even though I was quite sensitive and got distressed quite frequently and even when it wasn’t his fault and even when, in fact, it was my fault and he was supposed to be upset. He was all that any woman could ever desire. He gave me so much of everything that it in fact made me guilty. Each time he did more than he asked for, I fell harder in love.

But. There is always a ‘but’ in every story and mine has many. BUT things ended because people change, they grow into something new and they grow out of something old. Even the most consistent people evolve to become what they are meant to be, for better or for worse. He called it off, unexpectedly. I hadn’t seen it coming. We didn’t fight nor did we have any sorts of complications. I could have in no circumstance anticipated it. I was devastated. The one person that was most important to me just vanished from my life, suddenly and I could’ve given anything to change it, to give him at least the kind of love he consistently gave me, to have him back, to go lengths to keep him, to love him. On asking why, he just said he wasn’t happy. Why wasn’t he happy? Well, I guess I’ll never know. With all the flaws that I carry, I can list out about a thousand reasons so as to answer the ‘why’ but none of them would speak his plain, blunt thoughts. I cried for days and I tried for months. Nothing could take away my hope of reuniting with him. The craziest thing was that the saint didn’t point out even one mistake of mine even while going away. Ever since I was born, being abandoned by him was the scariest thing I ever felt. And so I begged him to stay, promised to work on my flaws, did whatever I could to get a single chance to meet him. However, he had evidently made up his mind and no requests nor prayers nor gestures nor words could change it. The first few months were harder than I can explain. I wished to eat but the food wouldn’t go in. A million ugly thoughts bolted through my head and no matter how much I wanted to distract myself, my mind would still stick to the fact that the person whose world revolved around me has wiped me off his whole god damn globe. Moving on was not an option because even though we were apart, he loved me, I knew it. He went away but obviously there was a chance of him coming back if I try, only if I try. Therefore, I worked on that instead of spending my energy attempting to move on. Also, he was God on earth. Nobody before him could ever handle me through my tantrums like him, selflessly loved me or heard me like him or looked at me that way and I was convinced nobody after him could. People still used this phrase quite often; ‘move on’ on grounds of responsible friendship and these grounds witnessed several earthquakes owing to the same. I didn’t want to be told that he won’t come back and I ought to accept it, I wanted to be told that I should work on myself so that when he comes back, he is a want and no more a need. I didn’t want to be advised to find someone new, I wanted to be told that I’m whole with or without men. I did not want lectures, I wanted to be heard, I wanted to scream and cry and to have someone to tell me that it’s okay to scream and cry in their presence. I always believed that I had so many friends, BUT for once in my life, I had none when I needed them the most. I was totally alone. ‘Alone’ in its deepest sense. People did try to talk but when they said things I didn’t want to hear it pissed me off and I preferred not having anyone at all. Life seemed pointless and it did feel hopeless and ofcourse I googled ‘how to get your ex back’ with no avail.

After several months the pain began to fade and its intensity started to ebb. That didn’t mean that the hope died out or the desire to see someone else creped in. Every emotion faintly existed. All these barely surviving feelings brought about a numb and dull time in my life and I began reflecting on myself about how this event is such a significant one considering its impact on my growth as a human being. The truth is that time is powerful, BUT it doesn’t heal your pain, it just fades it away, it makes it the part of a past, it makes it into a memory. I did not stop desiring him; I just began being okay with not having him that very moment. I was no more desperate and could wait for the universe to create a story out of us. ‘Faith, hope, love’ were my pillars and quotes that strengthened the idea of him making his way back to me in the future became my friends. Imaginations helped me fill the time and I also started going out and being more social. Even after over a year I was so afraid to dive into something like this again because I never wanted to feel that way another time. I didn’t know if I could even survive that awful feeling for the second time. In the course of time I did heal. Despite of the fact that the convalescence period was spread over two full years, I am still proud of reaching here. For then, I would’ve given anything to change my pathetic reality, BUT today even if I had a chance, I wouldn’t because this has made me ‘me’, because this is my story.

-Maithili