Being in love is exactly like I had read about in the books, watched in the movies. It all seems beautiful as you step into it and as you walk further into the tunnel of love, you notice it getting darker and narrower. You hold on tight to the souvenirs, you collected on the way. The pictures, the clothes and the memories all of them start disappearing but you continue walking anyway, hoping to see the light at the end.
Being in love is always having that person in the back of your mind everywhere you go. Waking up to the thought of him and going to bed, hoping that he loves you back.
Being in love is having a crazy obsession with that person. That's what real love is, when he literally drives you crazy. The good kind of crazy.
Being in love is being selfless. It's realising that you would give up anything for that person without even knowing if they'd do the same. That tends to really backfire and hurt when it's unrequited.
Being in love is wanting to forgive that person for all the pain that he inflicted on you.
Being in love is having the ability to fix him every time he falls apart bringing you down with him.
In the beginning, it was like strapping on to a rollercoaster with unexpected twists and turns. But when it's over, you find yourself wanting to go back. You want it even more now. It's like telling yourself that this is the last episode or last piece of chocolate you'll have because you just can't stop yourself. Later, you reach flat ground, you can walk without looking down now. You see him waiting for you and you run to him and embrace him in your arms. He tells you everything you want to hear, all the times he missed you. You smile and a warm feeling encompasses you. You find yourself in this bubble of romance; fragile but still capable of withstanding heartbreak. As you get comfortable in that space, you start to trust him slowly. Through your eyes, he's perfect. His flaws are acceptable. He looks perfect in his worst and you admire him for who he is. Maybe not, because through all of this, your perception of him changes and you see him the way you want to. Every memory is altered because of your love. Even the ones you shared with him, both of you remember it differently with different emotions. Nothing is in black and white.
There comes a day when he wants to get out of the bubble. When he's tired of your shit, when he's had enough, when he is just not happy anymore. He contemplates on bursting it while you are disillusioned by his love. You're completely oblivious to this and then one night, you feel something sting your skin. The bubble doesn't exist anymore so you look around and see him standing with a needle in his hand, moving away from you. You try to reach out to him but he hides behind the shadows. This drives you crazy, it makes you pull out your hair and cry until your eyes are sore. You allow yourself to feel the pain for a while and then decide that you can only handle so much pain. Because before anyone else, you love yourself and you know that you matter.
The next morning, nothing's changed so you cry a little more. Go back to bed because you're not ready for the world yet. You decide that it's time you tell him the truth. Tell him what he couldn't see and what he should know. "I'm in love with you." you say, finally. "I didn't know." he says.
He didn't know. Makes you wonder how things would have been if you'd told him earlier.
You didn't lash out on him or demean him for everything that he did. You didn't want to.
Strangely, all you wanted to do was comfort him. You'd finally found him and you just wanted to hold his hand, look into his eyes and tell him that it'll get better. You wanted to be the one for him, not romantically but just be there. You genuinely cared about his happiness and realising that made you feel wonderful because the feeling was so real and powerful.
Being in love is learning about yourself. Realising the kind of love you are capable of.
There comes a day when he wants to get out of the bubble. When he's tired of your shit, when he's had enough, when he is just not happy anymore. He contemplates on bursting it while you are disillusioned by his love. You're completely oblivious to this and then one night, you feel something sting your skin. The bubble doesn't exist anymore so you look around and see him standing with a needle in his hand, moving away from you. You try to reach out to him but he hides behind the shadows. This drives you crazy, it makes you pull out your hair and cry until your eyes are sore. You allow yourself to feel the pain for a while and then decide that you can only handle so much pain. Because before anyone else, you love yourself and you know that you matter.
The next morning, nothing's changed so you cry a little more. Go back to bed because you're not ready for the world yet. You decide that it's time you tell him the truth. Tell him what he couldn't see and what he should know. "I'm in love with you." you say, finally. "I didn't know." he says.
He didn't know. Makes you wonder how things would have been if you'd told him earlier.
You didn't lash out on him or demean him for everything that he did. You didn't want to.
Strangely, all you wanted to do was comfort him. You'd finally found him and you just wanted to hold his hand, look into his eyes and tell him that it'll get better. You wanted to be the one for him, not romantically but just be there. You genuinely cared about his happiness and realising that made you feel wonderful because the feeling was so real and powerful.
Being in love is learning about yourself. Realising the kind of love you are capable of.
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