I wish I can wake up to his messages again. I couldn’t help but look at the messages, gif with kisses, voice notes from far back as December, January and February – again. I couldn’t help but cry. This feels surreal. How can people go from falling asleep to each other’s voice when afar, and then holding hands in sleep, to this? How can this even be normal?
This is painful. I can’t “mind over matter” this.
If only… if only he could bring himself to stand up and fight for us… But I guess I am asking too much of my Ferdinand the Bull (FtB). He is not the one to fight.
I guess I was brought up with this romantic notion of love. Seeing my parents married, sticking through thick and thin together, and celebrating 40 years of marriage together. Where my dad – always – chivalrously stood up for my mom. Against any criticism towards her. Be it from his family or his friends. I wish I had that. But then, I am projecting. I am demanding something that no one can give amongst our Geriatric Millennials.
What a messed up generation we truly are.
We abuse the system that gives us innumerable choices, refusing to fight for a singular choice. Too blinded by ego! We don’t realise that any one of us can die any minute… we aren’t immortal. So why can’t we just fully give our heart/our soul and fight to be with that person we claim to love through thick and thin? Why are we, so full of ego, that we would rather stop loving than fight for love? Rather hurt others than help others grow?
Will I ever find/fall-in love after this? Will I ever get over him? I don’t know. But I will try. But to think – one day he will be with another, and I will be with another – is, at the moment, a chocking, painful, heartbreaking, soul-wrecking thought.
—
I was about to write to him a few times. Had to hold myself back. A clean cut, that’s the way to heal… for us both… for me. At least.
—
I missed my train today. Was late to work by 20 mins. I feel ashamed that this is affecting me so much. Working is hard as I keep checking my phone. Every buzz makes me jump. Hope in heart I look at the screen – it’s not him. Ferdinand the Bull doesn’t fight. He’d rather be out smelling flowers under his tree.
I can’t “mind over matter” him. If only he could put himself in my shoes. If only he knew how right we are for each other – but broken apart by social conflicts, and his refusal to fight back but rather accept. Rather bend than stand up tall.
Once he had mentioned that my acceptance in his circle of friends is important. I am accepted by all of his friends – but one. Just one. Just that one and his girlfriend/partner, and their slimy ego-driven moves that made it impossible for his “love to grow”. The one who he subconsciously “seeks permission from” – as put by that friend’s girlfriend… She felt dangerous that night. She indirectly told me that she and her 45-year-old boyfriend had the strings/control to make my man dance on their command. Manipulative. My intuition went on full alert. But I refused to hear my intuition and go with benefit of the doubt. Mistake.
My intuitions are never wrong. That’s why this hurts. Cause I know we were perfect for each other. Yin and Yang – as his other best friend Felix had once noted. Complimentary rather than opposing. A dynamic system.
I can’t “mind over matter” this. Yes, I’m smiling at work, still efficient – but the pain is real. The pain lingers.
This relationship was never about sex, it was about connection. We connected. We talked for months before even kissing. I know his fears, I know his past, I know his discomfort… I know his taste, likes, dislikes – hell!!! We even subconsciously balance it off … when he raises his voice, I lower mine. And vice-versa. Harmony is not about not having arguments in a relationship, not about the frequency of that argument either – but rather how one can solve them together, not against eachother.
It’s the first time I see that I have to face and re-live every bit of what happened… to help me move forward. To help me move on. He had said something about perspective – it’s time I write down my perspective from where I stood.
This hurts. This hurts differently.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 
my parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary yesterday. our house was full. despite the current restrictions from the bundesamt, we couldn’t tell the dozens of families we grew up with and who helped my parents feel somewhat home here in switzerland, to go home. i wasn’t really looking forward to this day, i due cherish their marriage and i am grateful for everything they’ve worshipped and sacrificed for me. but i have also seen their marriage at the lowest points. i’ve seen the fights, i’ve heard the insults, i’ve treated their wounds – literally, but also metaphorically. but yesterday it was all love. i saw my dad so emotional. he hugged his buddies, he said thank you to so many, suddenly everybody starts telling these “remember when…” stories of how their love stories survived refuge, how their wives wrote letters and how they had built these friendships that to me – inevitably – is family. it’s all i now. love and trust is all i know. i was raised in a circle in which these were the core values. love and trust.
so, this morning i woke up and my house is empty again. here and there, plastic cups, our living room full of flowers put in big vases, and the odor of curry all over the house. but it’s empty. the house is empty. my parents went to work, my brother is at school, my sister still upstairs in bed. and i stand there in my living room that just hours before was still so vivid, so full of communal memory, of non-verbal appreciation and very verbal jokes and teasing. it was full of hugs and hand-stroking, touching each other’s shoulders when sitting next to each other on the couch, full of comforting, familiar eye-contact and covid-friendly fist bumps, full of voices that have pushed me through my darkest moments in life.
i felt so empty, so alone, even though they were all just there, a moment ago. so i sit down on the couch and i think to myself: will love always be something to me that i can never quite grasp? will it always be here one second and be gone the next? will i ever find love that stays?
and i cried, too. because how could anyone ever give me what these people have given me? how could anyone ever match this standard? i breathe love. everywhere i go i sprinkle kindness like it comes so easy to me, but it in fact, it does! because i was raised that way!
and i deserve a love that gives me that sort of comfort. i deserve a love that feels that safe, that familiar and that indestructible. and i know it is possible, you know why? because my parents survived 25 years with each other. and whenever i start questioning love, i only have to look at them. and whenever i doubt whether i deserve a love like that i remember that i am my parents’ child: of course i do. of course i deserve it.
and so do you, deb.
so do you.
and you WILL find your safe, familiar, indestructible love.
i’m hugging you so tight! stay strong, i love you my dreaming, most beautiful, unique friend!
xx
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It takes grit to have a long lasting relationship. I’m beginning to see that I shouldn’t be settling for anyone having any less than that. But do I want anyone else? For now that’s the pain.
But have you ever felt that you got tricked into a relationship? Tricked into falling in love… just to be left standing alone at the end? I’m oscillating between that feeling of trickery and betrayal, and a feeling of pain knowing he is actually incapable of being in a relationship – that he has the potential to be a good friend but not a boyfriend – and that is ok but heartbreaking too. And then the doubt – am I unlovable? … If I happened to be someone emotionally contained, quiet, calm and passive, like a good traditional Indian woman – this could have worked. But he knew I’m not that. I never hid any side of me from him. He convinced me that he was in love with the person I am: “every bit of you” he said. Then … How can one love someone one day and then not love that person at all the next? Just because “social conflicts” started by his friend?
Yes. My parents give me hope. Their love and sticking through thick and thin… gives me hope. But for now…
This is painful.
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