Love (its a bit long but comments and criticism will be very welcome) Dear Friend, Have you ever been in love? No, I do not mean the imaginary contagious disease every body seems to be suffering from in present times. What I implied by the word was the invigorating, intoxicating, consciousness expanding, inexplicable and extremely rare feeling that everyone covets but only few can ever experience. You seem to be one of the rare few who has known that feeling first hand and it is for that reason alone I am writing to you today. We might be at the polar ends of the spectrum as regards to most things. But as it so happens, we have at least one thing in common, something very special. As I have already mentioned, we are two of the elite few to have truly loved someone and been loved in return. You must be wondering by now why am I laying so much emphasis on the fact that love is rare. As I narrate my story, I am sure you shall understand my reasons. As you might have already guessed, I believe that you have, I am in love with a woman and unfortunately, it is not going very well. People, who until very recently I thought of as close friends, advise me that it is high time I kiss her ass goodbye. Yes, those were the exact words that were used. Their intentions were pure, I am very sure, and they meant well for me. But they fail to realise a simple truth. There is no longer just me anymore, its us. It has been us ever since we confessed our feelings for each other. We are entangled in a chaotic rush of hormones and fantasy. Our personalities have moulded together to form a mirror for the other. We are soul mates revelling in the adventure of the discovery of the mundane. Our destinies are entwined together in a breathtaking spread of colour. Most shades are as bright as the brightest of days and quite inevitably, some are darker than the darkest of nights. My woman suffers from what most people see as an affliction very trivial. She is a patient of chronic depression. She has been on medication for the last couple of years. But she doesnt seem to be getting any better and her therapist seems to think there might be something else wrong with her. She passed into depression after the death of her mother, whom she loved very dearly. During our early days together, she told me often that she couldnt handle death very well. But as a 20 year old, I could not entirely grasp the implications of her words but eight years later, when her ailing mother passed away, I would finally comprehend the depth of her words. And I can assure you, I wish that I hadnt. I assume you wish to know more about my woman. The first thing you will notice about her is that she is beautiful. She has an excellent sense of humour and will have you laughing along with her in no time if she so desires. But if you care to look, you will notice that her smile never touches her eyes. They seldom do these days. And when one has known her for as long as I have, the person will realise that she is magic. No, that is not an exaggeration by a mind hopelessly in love. She is magic. She has this unnerving ability to come up with the exact words which would make a grumbling person stop complaining, someone sad break into peels of laughter and a hopelessly pessimist feel better about their situation. Even after ten years of being together, I marvel at how she never fails to make everyone around her feel better about themselves. Do not get the wrong picture here, she is not an angel. Her magic applies to only the people she regards as acceptable. And if I were you, I would make special effects to stay out of her bad book. Because once you are in there, you will find yourself being haunted by the complete lack of compassion in her voice and the intensity of her hatred. She tends to keep herself in check and avoid people she does not like. But if someone forces her into an uncomfortable situation, she doesnt hesitate to bash the offender. She is a feisty woman, I remember it is one of the reasons I was attracted to her in the first place. Her magic, however, can work wonders and I, my dear friend, am a living proof of the fact. She walked into my life when I was in utter shambles. Intense self-loathing coupled with depression and suicidal urges dominated my mindscape at the time. At that stage of my life, when I desperately built walls around me to keep people out and a safe distance from me, she shattered the walls without any difficulty whatsoever and carved out a space for herself from my daily routine. She eased into my mind, twisted and broken, and cuddled with it. Nice and cozy. Perhaps, that is what I needed. Someone to hold me together when I wasnt capable of it anymore. And she managed to do all that and more without breaking any sweat. In one years time, I would be completely cured and what seemed unbelievable at one point of time, had begun enjoying life and even looking forward to it. Some woman, isnt she? You may have begun to think you understand now the reason why leaving her is not an option. I must inform you that its only a part of the reason and a very inconsequential part at that. The main reason is our love for each other. There are occasions when Im the only reason she doesnt take the blade and slash her wrists. There are nights when she holds on to me and weeps profusely and all I can do is put my arms around her and hold her close to me. In the mornings, she would bump her nose against mine and hug me tightly till I have to prepare for my day at work. She would grace me with a beatific smile when I kiss her lips before leaving for my office. And in the evenings, when I return, she would wait for me at the gates and leap forward to pull me to a bone breaking embrace and we would just stand there for a while, holding on to each other, in the middle of the street, locked away in a universe only accessible to us through the bond we share. Things have gotten pretty rough over the past few months. Friends and family, though blissfully unaware of the seriousness of her affliction have fulfilled the gap in their knowledge with figments of their own imagination, each more outrageous than the previous. They have noticed, however, the grim expression more or less permanently etched on my face and hold my girlfriend guilty. You see, I cannot tolerate anyone saying anything against her, especially such baseless allegations rising from half-baked knowledge of the whole situation. Hence, my responses to their words havent been too polite. Most friends are not too fond of my company anymore and family, well, will always be family. Recently, a distant uncle of mine had taken great trouble to visit us at our apartment in Kolkata. And imagine my chagrin when I realised it was only to let his opinions known about our relationship. I felt the bile rising up my throat when I heard him say at the dinner table, You are a very lucky woman. Sensible men usually have a better choice. She carried herself pretty well in front of him and silenced him with a sarcastic remark which I am glad offended my repulsive uncle. I know I am lucky to have him, uncle. It doesnt take a lot of brains to work that out. And sensible men know when to stop and keep their mouth shut. Needless to say, the dinner didnt end too well. And late night when she broke into fits of tears, I couldnt stop myself from waking my uncle up and throwing him out of the house. It seems wrong now but didnt feel too bad at the moment. It further alienated me from my kinship and I earned the honour of being the black sheep of my family for good. The only real problem my family has with our relationship is that it has started having a negative impact on my career. My mother got an inkling of it on her trip here the previous year. You must understand, when you are in love with a person suffering from depression, you have to make certain sacrifices which you do not have to with others. There are numerous days she would hold my hands and beg me to take a leave at work and stay back at home with her. Her face would turn extremely gloomy when I insist I have to go to work. And that would break my resistance and I would give in. The smile that flashes across her face when I tell her I am staying with her makes up for all the harmless threats that I receive from the manager the next day. On certain afternoons, I would receive a call from her and hear only her sobs at the other end. When that happens, I have no choice but to ask my colleagues to manage my desk and rush back home to find her curled into a ball with blood oozing from her arms and a blade lying on the floor near her. I was denied a promotion last year because of my irregularities in attendance although my work rate was great and my parents somehow managed to find that out. And what followed was a lengthy tyrade against her and a suicide attempt after they left. Only luck saved us that day and I still remember her words when I forced the injection out of her hands, I wont let myself ruin your shot at success. But you already know it, dont you my friend? There is no happiness without her. The world could cease to exist and I had only smirk if she was there by my side. And should something happen to her, there exists absolutely nothing which could fill the space she had leave behind. Everyone, including her therapist, seems to think she is lucky to have me. Thankfully, it was only my uncle who was stupid enough to say that to her face. I do not understand why do they not see that I am just as lucky as she is, probably even more. It takes a great deal of luck to be loved as much as I am. To be loved so much, to be wanted so much, to mean so much someone, it takes a great deal of luck to experience all that and its something they will never ever know. Her therapist went a step further and said she wouldnt have survived even half a year in her condition without me. I had to inform her politely that it was mutual. I wouldnt survive a day without her. She lends meaning to my existence. Without her, my existence is futile. You must be perplexed trying to figure out the purpose of this letter. Well, it is simple. I wanted to talk to someone about it and you seemed like someone who would understand. I hope the next time I write to you, I can honestly say things have gotten better and her health has improved. But as for now, the future looks pretty bleak. We are a ship caught in a raging storm, my friend, and we are the only ones keeping each other going. Adios, I will be waiting for a reply. Yours truly, An Overly Attached Boyfriend (She loves calling me that)
Posted on: Fri, 21 Nov 2014 07:06:06 +0000
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