Ernest Hemingway once said that the best stories ever written are those that were written with truth and conviction, with honesty and bare emotions. I am inclined to agree.
I am not a huge fan of Hemingway but I admire the brutal honesty of his prose and the burning passion that is tangible in every line he wrote. I wish I can write like him. I cannot. But I do write. And today, I will write with as much honesty as I can muster.
A few years ago, I fell in love with a man I barely knew. It took only a few evening walks in the dimly-litted streets of a university campus and a couple of midnight rendezvous in random cafes before I succumbed. Amid the coolness of the evening breeze, the wonderful feeling of having someone hang on to your every word, the challenge of having that someone agree/disagree to what you say, and the tingling sensation of barely hidden physical desires, I really did not stand a chance. Barely a month after our first conversation, I was ready to embark on a personal journey with this man who encouraged my peculiarities and my twisted beliefs. I was totally amazed by him who found something to admire in me in every single mood I was in – and my mood “changes with the tides”, they say. This man gave me a whole new perspective to life.
The months and years that followed was a kaleidoscope of colorful emotions. We shared a healthy mixture of love, laughter, tears, joy, passion, faith, discoveries, love and then, more love. I have never felt happier than during our first years together. It was a fearless kind of happiness that was seemingly indestructible. I have always been one who feared too much happiness because I was brought up with the idea that too much happiness is unhealthy and surely sorrow will not be far behind. But it was during those times that I learned that life’s woes, worries and wars are best fought by and with love. I learned that a positive outlook in life can conquer even the most grueling and hopeless of life’s necessary battles. It was during my life with him that I learned that acceptance is the key to all things that perplexes me.
And so it must be one of the world’s greatest ironies that six years later, I would find so much solace and peace from those “learnings” – solace and peace that I sought because of all the pain, wretchedness and chaos brought about by the same man who taught me about faith and love.
All of a sudden, our exciting life together was not as exciting anymore. I had quickly turned from being the most passionate woman he had ever met to the most indifferent one.
Suddenly, I was sadly lacking.
I only loved him when I felt I was loved back.
Suddenly, there are a lot of things waiting to be explored.
He was looking for an elusive something that he just had not found with me. And he strongly believed that no amount of time, effort and love from me will ever make up for it. He could not stay. He absolutely had to move on.
I was devastated.
Needless to say, the days that followed were the darkest days of my life. All the sad corny love stories I’ve seen in the past suddenly did not seem so corny after all. There was an endless supply of salty tears that left my eyes puffy and my cheeks itchy. A single memory can ignite hours of silent crying. And everywhere I look, every single thing reminded me of him! But of course! My life revolved around him. He was my life! I was lost without the securing thought that one person will always be there for me. I was robbed of that security and my life turned into shambles.
After one week of sorrow, anger came. I was so mad that I cursed him and everything that he stood for. I banished everything that could potentially remind me of him and of our life together – photos, couple accounts online, and all the things we made together. The charities benefited from his clothes and the gifts he gave me. I refused to patronize the restaurants we go to as a couple; I would not eat anything that was a favorite of his. I could not stand listening to a love song or watching a romantic movie. I never thought time will come that love songs and romantic movies will make me want to vomit. It did.
And because I have always been an extroverted and dynamic person to his introverted and placid one, anger suited me really well. It fueled me and made me very active in rearranging my life. That gave my friends (old and new) the entry they had waited for. They helped me rebuild my life devoid of any trace from the past. They brought me to places I would never have gone to without him.
It was amazing to see and realize how much I missed. I was awed by all the wonderful things I discovered about myself in my journey as a whole new person. Each discovery led me closer and closer to accepting the cruel realities of my past as just that – cruel and real, over and done with. Acceptance is the key, I remembered. It was one of the things he taught me. And indeed, acceptance came easy because I had (and still have) so much to be thankful for.
I will always cherish those times and all the people that was with me in that journey of wonder and discovery. All of them continue to be with me to this day – each of them representing a lesson learned, a wonderful friendship and one particular brand of beer. With all of them, I shared a bunch of awesome memories.
Amazing, isn’t it? That a complex love story could literally be reduced to the simplest of mathematical equations: 6 years of love + 1 week of sorrow + 2 weeks of anger = 1 lifetime well-lived.
My journey of acceptance is a part of another equation, another lifetime, another story – a story, not only of love, but of beautiful discoveries – a story that tells of more stories.
Originally written: 8 July 2013
and so it goes... 