This four lettered word called ‘love’ has always mystified me. Today when I lay my fingers on my key board to Squeeze out this clouds of over rated emotions associated only to this so called word ‘love’, the baffling question I ask myself is ‘ how intensive this love lingo can get in one’s lives’?
Growing up watching all those romantic movies and ultimately reading all kinds of mills and boons collection of novels definitely has a huge impact on my perception of this terminology called love in my life. The irony of it all is that till today I am still engulfed with blanket of doubts while coming to confirm the intensity of love I had in my life.
Right now I am confined to this web of thoughts on my love life creating a void deep within and a pounding headache is all I get. As I retrace my memories, falling in love was easy for me I must admit. Like any normal girl, all I wanted was to love the man who fairly ticked all the boxes listed under my ‘perfect man category. At surface, a good height, good sense of humour and a good heart was all I looked for in him. maybe to put it in a romantic side and to go little further from the surface, a good guitarist and a good biker was what i preferably delved for.Finding these supreme qualities I wanted in my man did make me as well believe on the existing fact that getting a perfect package is impossible, maybe close to possible was what I wanted to believe always.
The most painfull truth in love I have known is the realisation of having letting go someone so easily when the best to you could have been that someone only. It occurs to me today that the sadness I thought I dismissed long time back was still at work with me. The sadness in the wake of what felt like my failure in reaching out to some one called my perfect man seems numbing at this phase of my love life.
Through this yet another piece of my writing, I am somehow releasing my grief that has come with the obstetric misery that dogged my love life lately… in definitely I myself have a huge role to play in this inflicting hurt game of love because I drove towards choices I thought I would never make. The heartache has its own rate of decay and it hardly coincides with when we think it ought to go. ….
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