To Love or Not to Love?

To love or not to love - that is the question I run away from.

"What is love if it is not the acknowledgment of fragility…"

I do not know who quoted this burning truth and where, I do not know the experience he or she must have undergone to realize this. But I know, this is it.

Not to utter the obvious, but we are constantly fed upon the commercialization of love - how you are going to fall head over heels for your partner when he touches your face, as if he is looking at your soul. And you, mon cher, are taking it all in, thinking he is the only one person to whom you can bare it all.

love [luhv]
(noun)
an intense feeling of deep affection.

Intense feeling. Deep affection.

How intense does it get? Should the intensity level leave you with a physical ache? You will throw me some scientific jargon that the stress hormone goes up when we experience a figurative “heartbreak”.

But you & I both know; it cuts deeper than that.

*****

You will now advise me to love me. Me, me, me! Me ceases to exist once you lay your head on someone else’s lap under a starry sky. You vanquish the whole notion of “me” as you think of what the other person will think if you make this purchase. You let go of the precious “me”, eventually.

“Love yourself; you can’t love anyone else with a broken heart.” Don’t you think I know that? The feeling I am feeling is raw, coarse, sordid. My facial muscles are twitching as I am having sardonic laughter now. Hah!

There comes a period, the intense feeling, or colloquially known as bhalobasha/love, does not come with this prerequisite of loving yourself. You do not need to utter that you love someone with all your heart, but you can feel it in your bones -- that you can love someone with every morsel of being.

And this realization comes only when one thing is etched in your mind - love is fragile.

As the time passes by, you know your heart does not only accommodate you, but expands to let someone in. Shouldn’t you loathe how someone could take over your heart that beats for you, literally keeps you alive? What kind of sorcery is this, amiright?

*****

The hatred comes along but only grows on you. You overthink every word he uses, the way he says it. You batter your mind to a condition until you weep and sob to see another hopeless morning and then you catch yourself lying still (just how still nature is after a malevolent storm) looking at a discolored wall. The questions resurface, pull you to the nadir and you feel, sense your heart not beating for yourself anymore.

Overthinking leads to self-rumination, the thoughts get jumbled up, your words (you may think they are meaningful) lose their meaning, and you eventually end up on the bathroom floor, crying, clasping your hands around your chest, under the shower.

*****

The love, swooning love, overpowering love, turns into a mass of intense feeling which leaves you with deep affection for someone else but not for yourself.

Mumblings of “this is toxic,” “it is hurting you, get out of here,” “get help,” “you can stay single, don’t worry” push you inside a burning room with your conflicting thoughts. Don’t you think I know I am breeding toxicity? The point goes beyond staying with anyone.

“But it’s not possible to forget anybody you were that hung up on, who was that hung up on you. You can’t forget anything that hurt so badly, went so deep, and changed the world forever. It’s not possible to forget anybody you’ve destroyed.”

*****

What a foolish thing it is to hope. How inane humans can be. What a moron you are to love another human being.

Yet the hope lingers on. That somehow, in the form of a tornado or a summer breeze, love will appear to soothe my heart, replenish my soul.

My hands may be shaking - because of the deep anguish I experience, the recurrent conflict I put myself in, the long-lost battle that I profusely refuse to forfeit - but I know I could guard our love with these very trembling hands. But alas, I need your hands, your firm grip, to stop the love ebbing away, like shimmering yellow sand on the beach.

“My whole life smells of you…”