The term love is such an overrated emotion. It is just a fancy mask worn to manipulate human brains. Today I try convincing myself to waltz into another new relationship after my breakup. As I enter a room filled with people, I find myself hating all visible displays of love and affection between them. The fragrance of lovers around me irritates me no end and I feel almost allergic to love. After the end of the past relationship I feel this aversion acutely.
I am so shackled in my emotions and love that after my breakup the process of healing is taking a near herculean toll on me. It is interfering with my daily life and activities. I feel numb most of the times. I feel lost in the crowd of human beings and desperately need a map to route myself back home. To me, home conveyed only a comforting essence of the past. Then I realised with a startle that I should not call this place home! After all my past had imprisoned me and the relationship that defined my past had failed. This home feels more like a psychic ward now and the trauma of the unhealthy relation with my ex was starting to haunt me every second of my life.
I feel like running endlessly for miles. Perhaps I even want to be drowned into the sea or maybe jump off a treacherous high cliff. I do not want anyone to find me, or know of my existence ever. Anonymity is sheer bliss for me I realise. Multiple times the thought of slitting my vein came to my mind; maybe it would bring me relief from the sufferings. But then I cannot stand the colour of blood. This fear stopped me from suicide, I guess. With every passing day I started hating myself and at times I feel like a machine devoid of any feelings or a zest for life.
One day, sitting at Barista, sipping my coffee and feeling the caffeine in my dead brain cells, I wondered why the people around me are so happy. Did they even know pain and what it is made of? I asked myself. It felt that for them life is a celebration. What are they even celebrating? I felt nauseated seeing them so joyful in their lives. All the while I was sharply aware and actually acutely enveloped in the agony of my past. I felt like an unwanted creature with a failed career and yes stuck in my thirties for what felt like forever. I was not moving an inch either and then I suddenly caught sight of a woman in rags who was begging for her child's food. She was grateful for whatever was poured into her plate by the passerbys. I was amazed to see her. There was some tranquility in the smile of her face. Again I deeply observed her and this brought me some form of calmness to the storm that was raging in my head. I paid for my coffee in a jiffy and could not resist stopping myself by her side. I asked. "Why did you choose begging? You can work and earn." She replied, "I want to work but nobody wants a HIV-positive human to be around them and serve." She adds, "I can starve, but cannot make my baby sleep on an empty stomach." "How come you are so agreeable to this situation?" I queried. "Life has given me some things. I appreciate what I have," she concludes.
That evening, I felt, that all these years I was so ungrateful to my life and unkind to myself. I blamed myself for somebody who does not even bother about my existence. I had turned into my worst version and did not evolve into who I am supposed to be. I realised that only a mere breakup has been so terrible for me that I kept wounding myself more and more with the memories of my ex. So much so that his bad started reflecting in me. I did not radiate my own energy. And I kept nurturing the thought that I lack as a human being and something is very wrong with me. That woman happened to be like an eye opener. I have more than her and I sense nothing of my bounty at all so far. I must apologize to myself first for becoming the person I was not meant to be. I realized, love is a beautiful feeling, not an overrated emotion. But loving a wrong person, soils the taste of love and life. The Universe is graceful and shall play cupid to bring love into one's life. And no one has the force to ruin the energy of a person. The fall is a necessity but more important is getting up.
By: Shahnaaz Islam
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