Friday evening. I just got free from work. As I walked back home, I tried not to think about the inevitable. My thoughts. My life. Believe me if I had a chance to think of someone else, I would. That’s why I started working so soon. I wanted to stop thinking about me. Myself. I spent a greater half of my life doing that and it was stupid. If not me, I would think of someone else. There is always someone else. That someone who affects you more than you affect yourself. That someone who makes you believe in things you swore you won’t ever believe in. I am silly. Love does that to us I guess. It makes us silly. It impairs all our greater judgment and higher order cognition skills and makes us do stupid things and silly things. I have never been alone. Never. I have what any psychologist calls ‘daddy issues’. I cannot be alone. And having said that I’m one of the most independent women ever. I seek freedom and the space to do things on my own. That often makes people hate me, they think of me as the cold, straightforward, bluntly honest woman aka bitch, which I might be. That’s the reason I have very few friends. And even they don’t know me completely. Anyway, back to the daddy issues, my dad was never there. He’s an army man which explains that but as a kid somewhere it affected me greatly. Deeply. I never realized it until my mom told me how as a kid there was a time I stopped doing all the things I loved and my teachers observed my essays and my behavior and concluded that it was because I missed my dad. According to mom, I was never the same after that. I have been emotionally damaged since then. Not just because of my dad’s absence but also a lot of other things that shouldn’t have happened but did. Things nobody could have stopped. On the outside, I’m very social, outspoken, extrovert person. But I’m the loneliest person inside. And that wasn’t always the case. I used to be fun both on the outside and inside. I have had the most fun middle childhood and adolescence. It was all pretty normal. Boyfriends. Dating. Best friends. Then I fell in love. Never knew what it was then. Know it now. There are people who learn from their heartbreaks. Either stop dating or casual date. I’m neither. I never realized it but I just moved on to the next guy. I could never be alone. And it wasn’t something I did consciously. So I fell in love and it was beautiful. Magical. But like all good things, it came to an end. It was perfect while it lasted and we moved on. But it took a part of me away just like all others. Now there was very little left of me. So little that sometimes I hardly recognized myself but thanks to my age and so many other important things, I didn’t pay attention to that. But I missed me. I still miss me. I’m cynical now. Full of worries and sadness, translation in my world- Anxiety and depression.
I have a man. Says he loves me. I don’t know if I believe him. I hardly believe anything anymore. It’s all so stupid to me. There are times when I slip, when I bare it all but what I bare can be seen by a very few people. Sadly. Those people don’t exist. And I’m forced to go into my shell. People get carried away. They think they are in love but they don’t realize it’s all about giving, not taking. I don’t know if ever gave, but I know what’s taken from me. And now I’m scared of giving anymore. I know love. I feel it. I just don’t see it. People always think I have had so much fun because I have been with so many men but one thing they don’t know. Those men were never with me. They were never next to me when I needed them or anyone for that matter. For a hug, a big tight hug after a long, hard day or someone to hand me a glass of wine to tell me it’s okay, someone to cook for me or just ask me how my day was. It has never happened except for once or twice and those are my most treasured memories. Now I’m all alone. Same place. Waiting for his call. He’s very busy. 187 kms away from me yet only 20 minute conversation is all he can give me. I know it’s not his fault. He has a job after all. He’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. He wants me to be okay, pretend all is good. It’s not. But I do because I can’t do anything else. His solution is to get married. No more long distance problems. I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s my fear. I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem like the right thing to do. I’m a romantic inside. I always thought I’ll get married to someone because we want to be together. Because we’re in love. And I’m in love. But I’m the one who loves more. Karma got to me I guess. It’s just so pathetic to be the one who loves the most. I always think of him in these times. The one who loved more. I wonder how he felt that time. And I hate myself. For not loving him more then. I did you know but it was too late, and now here I am with a man who wants to marry because it’s just simple and easier. I never believed it when people said you fall in love only once. It’s a bullshit theory, right? How can that be true? Sometimes things just don’t work out. That doesn’t mean it’s over for the rest of your life. You will always have people coming into your life making you believe in all of it again. It happens.
And it did. It had a wonderful start and there are still wonderful moments. But I’m the one who loves more. And he’s just busy. And I’m “happy”.
As I reminded myself to not focus on the sad part, I reached home. The weather was perfect, it was breezy and I thought of how I’ll spend one more night with scotch and some sad songs on the terrace. I had a small talk with my neighbor in the elevator about how her kids were too naughty and maybe I could help her in handling them. I wished her goodnight and unlocked my door expecting the same darkness I come back to everyday but what I saw instead was my purple fairy lights and him. He was sitting on the couch, he seemed like he was waiting….i was stunned and i asked him, “what are you doing here?”. He walked up to me very charismatically, closed the door behind me and kissed me on the cheeks. I could smell him and I already felt weak in my knees as he whispered in my ears, “I’m home, baby”. With those words, I thought to myself “And I’m finally home too”.