In a relationship, we claim to love all the time. On every instance, every little thing. We are happy because we love. We are sad because we love. We get hurt because we love. We get ecstatic because we love. We expect because we love. Love. Love. Love. Though it is true on so many levels, but it is also what screws us up.
Last night, I had a fight with my husband and I didn’t let him sleep till after, midnight, when I was alright. From my perspective, I loved him therefore, I was hurt, and he had to clean up his mess. But where I went wrong was that love, is all about putting the other person above you. It’s not about expectations and consumption. Love is about giving. I tell him in every fight that he doesn’t know what it takes to love someone, but what I realized in the past few days was, that he’s the one who puts my needs above him. There’s not a thing he won’t do to make me happy, but he just won’t state it. I may express more, by shouting it out to the world, how much he means to me, but his actions create a simple abode which my words fail to create. A magical tune, which sings through my soul. A simple touch, which shakes my core. He amazes and frightens me at the same time, because when I look at him, I see a part of me and all our demons sync well with one another.
Maybe one day, we’ll learn, that people are meant to be cherished only, in every state, and to accept them, is their fundamental right.
Maybe one day, I’ll understand the song he’s singing and my tune would match his. But, for now, I’ll stay lost in the aura his song emanates.
The harsh, cold, sardonic laugh rings in her head, again. The same pain they once inflicted upon her soul. The same mocking smile lingering on their lips. She clutches those memories to her bosom. Bereft of hope and dignity. She’s a prisoner of her own soul. A promise once made in the heat of the day, can not be broken in the cold of the night. Words once spoken under the scorching sun, come back to mock you in the serene moon light. She looks around, gasping for breath, the walls around closing in and gradually her illusions take the form of reality. Her vision comes into focus and she screams at the top of her voice;
Let there be someone?
Let there be someone?
Let there be someone!
She looks at her reflection in the lake below. Astounded, she finds herself sleeping in a cocoon, weaving dreams into reality. She was meant to be a butterfly. They told her so, but there was something amiss. Something, that made people wonder at the sadness behind her smile. She knew, she would never find her wings to take her home. The realization had dawned upon her; she lost herself among the crowd that day. Amidst the cheers and hurrah’s, the blow of horns and the sound of drums. She danced to it all, danced to the tune of her demise. Don’t you remember?