One Step Closer

Life takes us to places that we never thought we could reach. A month back I had a perfect career; I had 6 months - 1 year - 5 years - 10 years plans around it. Today, I stand bare, watching the grains of those huge plans slipping out of my fist. Not that I believe it's a tragedy. On the contrary, I believe, I am being pushed to something greater. Something more aligned to my life purpose. I am a creature of delicate emotions. I thrive on affection and the dreamy promises of eternal love with a counterpart who would want me because that's his only natural state - in love, standing right next to me. The affection and promises do cross my path sometimes, but only to remind me that they hurt, by setting me on fire. They bring me to life only to kill me later. Oh, what wouldn't I have done of they came to stay! I will run away, yet again, for I have hoped for far too long. There is this constant dull ache. You see, grapes are sour.

Trauma

Imagine living with a ticking time bomb inside your body that might explode anytime. To that, add living alone in an unfriendly city with no friends because the introvert in you doesn't allow it. And then add being involved in a forbidden romance that pushed you to the disaster. Absolute disaster! Now imagine not being able to confide about it to anybody for one whole month. Imagine fighting the darkness all by yourself while toxins are being pushed into your body. Do you know what happens when you are in a constant state of agony? You get bored of it and are prepared for just any outcome whatsoever.

And they say, I shouldn't run away from reality! And they say, I am insane to contemplate leaving behind everything I know!

Her #4

She is tired of being called brave for fighting her battles alone. She no longer wants to do it. She no longer wants to entertain half-assed presence of people in life. She no longer wants to have secrets or be someone's secret. She is done. All she needs now is some plain, old-fashioned, 'till death do us part' kind of romance and a partner who would hold her hand (not just in the metaphysical realm) when she fights against all odds. She's exhausted. Maybe all this trauma is meant to bring into perspective what surrounds her in the name of love is not enough. Reality check!

One that escaped the subconscious prison...

Traveling is a pain because when I am shutting out the sea of strangers and thoughts of possible mishaps, a lot of unaddressed trauma, repressed memories come to the surface in quite an unexpected manner. People who know me know that I am an anti- natalist since forever. Well, I am what I am for reasons that make sense only to me perhaps. I do like children. Only when they belong to others. Back in 2018, for a small fraction of time, I did contemplate having one of my own with a man I loved. It was just before lightening struck our marriage and annihilated it. I envisioned having a perfect little daughter, calmer and stronger than me. A happy girl capable of being the brightest sunshine in whichever life she touched. I used to watch a lot of Murakami movies. They have an ethereal quality to them. One of such movies was called Ponyo. Ponyo means soft and squishy. Ponyo was the perfect little girl that I thought I wanted as a daughter. Bright sunshine, a beautiful empath. So, when I conceived late winter, within no time I planned a whole life around my Ponyo. I was ready for the leap of faith and for everything, good and bad that was to come along. Most importantly, I was ready to compromise on everything precious I ever held on to, including sleep, for the rest of my life. And sleep is the ikigai for me! I know it sounds strange. Anyway, getting back to the strand of memory, I lost her in early spring. When I began bleeding, the doctor said I'm having a miscarriage and asked me to take a painkiller. I refused. Despite my professional knowledge, I hoped for a miracle. I prayed to any power that might hear me, was even ready to sell my soul to the devil, to stop this devastation and bring everything back to normal. I kept hoping till I expelled her out completely. It was barely three months but I had formed one of the strongest spiritual bonds with the life growing within. I don't even know if it was a girl but that's one child I truly wanted. For the first and the last time. For the first time, I writhed and screamed in pain, crouched on the floor, bleeding profusely and did not let anyone come close. I have a good pain threshold but this wasn't the physical pain but the mental agony of something that meant the world to me, getting snatched from my closed fists by ruthless sharp claws. In this chaos, I saw how much my parents loved me. My mother is very intelligent, calm and logical. She expresses herself better through warm gestures rather than words. I saw her break down looking at my state. I saw her crying out my pain. Though he looked quite composed, my father stood there as a steady support, waiting for the storm to pass. It will be unfair to not mention the former partner. He was there too. A broken man who held my hand while I was inconsolable. He tried to be strong for as long as he could and once we got home, exhausted and empty, he cried. He held me and he cried. We mourned. Together. For the last time. After that, events followed which pulled everything apart. 

I am glad I got this off my chest. For years, I did not even acknowledge something like this had happened and that it almost killed me. I am no longer the same girl. This snippet of the time gone by was painful to address. But now it's just another event that has shaped my present self. The residues are some fragmented pieces of a narrative, some scattered, shapeless shadows and some life altering realizations. Most important of the realizations being, people come, people go, but there are some who stick along till the end. They are the ones life is worth living for. Sadly, they are also the ones who are taken for granted. So, as an apology, I send a warm energetic hug to all those who have lingered around. The next question is, do I feel sorry for myself? Absolutely not. I am exactly where I am supposed to be in life. It is better to let things unfold in their own time. I trust the Universe.

Her #3

He is beautiful. Even if his words have bruised her. Words implying there is no reciprocation of her tender emotions for him. She doesn't know how much of it was a reaction to past wounds and how much was the truth. But she has her own history of trauma which is why she would want to see it as the complete truth of the situation. He makes her feel cared for, valued, every single day. Yet she wants to believe him when he says he has no emotional attachment to her. That means she can no longer be emotionally vulnerable. Should she close up, play dead and let him have his way till it is time for her to leave? Maybe, yes. One-sided attachment is agonizing. To escape this agony, she must run away.

Her #2

Mo knows her well. Better than she herself does. 

She loves an emotionally unavailable man and has yielded to his condition of emotional detachment if they are to get involved. She thought it was a good arrangement to keep the heart away, yet have the opportunity to know him closely. He's a beautiful person afterall. When Mo got to know of this, she warned her saying it was against her nature to be friends with benefits. And eventually, she will get heartbroken and heartbreaks are extremely agonizing for her.

She told Mo, adequate safeguarding measures are in place. She is taking a few steps back on the emotional front. The rules now are: No unsolicited care, no initiation of a conversation, no usage of the word - love (written and verbal), and all of it needs to wind up in a year. She will leave and no question must be asked. Individual intentions have been conveyed to one another, quite lucidly.

Sad, right? The girl who wrote about tender romance, matured love, finding the one, eternal togetherness and many more such things has surrendered. Not really sad. She never was meant for those quixotic ideas. She was delusional and she has learnt it the hard way. The present situation is the best she can have. Transparency, and absolute autonomy!

The Retrograde Season

After ages of silence,  the devil tried, yet again, to corrode her light. The same pattern. The same sequence of using an innocent soul as the bait followed by a glimpse of his earthly appearance sans a soul. There was a time, she would forget all the torment he inflicted and fall at his feet so that he felt loved. But this time, she was out of his reach. If he elevates to where she is and touches her, he will lose his essence. He will no longer be the devil and that will go against the law of nature. She does not hate him. He just ceased to exist when she directed all the love she had to give inwards. She watched quietly as he walked away. Her light was painfully blinding for his darkness.