Tu Me Manques.
According to Greek Mythology or maybe just some random Facebook post, every entity has two halves, you’re one half and you spend the rest of your life looking for your other/allegedly better half. If you ask me I think that story is complete bull and that you do not need another person to complete you. But if you ask me, I’ll also tell you that learning household skills is a waste of time and that diets are for the faint hearted.
My judgement is often clouded by my extreme sense of self and my essential need to remain insecure, insecure about how I look, how unappealing my personality might seem and insecure about not being loved back by people I have whole heartedly, completely and irrevocably fallen in love with.
This story has a him, there’s always a him, lets sing a hymn for him?
Me and him were quite a we, it started out easy and yet was turbulent enough to make hearts collide, to make waves erupt and to shatter any semblance of pride I might have had in me. It made me evolve, it made me explore dimensions I’d never known to exist. It made me, it became me and maybe it destroyed a part of me. I personally believe the part that got eliminated in the process, was also the part that wasn’t quite necessary. I could feel my transformation happen, I learnt new things, picked up new hobbies and all of a sudden, had choices much more refined than before. I discovered the brilliant world of Quentin Tarantino movies, that gentlemen exist and a newfound love for the old Telugu classics. The person I was 4 years ago, was meaner, blunter and a lot less cooler. So I guess at some point, I’m glad I chanced upon him, but I wish I could have avoided being so dependent on him.
Kids, dependence is a disease and a luxury. It takes away the need to ever be self sufficient but it also makes sure you have a hand to hold on to, a hand that can guide you through a rough day. Dependence is a boon and a bane, it makes you feel so lucky to have found another person you could trust your life/food/belongings with and at the same time you know that if that person isn’t around as much, you’d have trouble just existing. I am so dependent on him that I never taught myself to format a presentation or justify my lines, I’m so dependent on him that I never had to learn to look both left and right before making the most risky decision and I’m so dependent on him that I feel like a part of me has just ceased to exist now that he isn’t by my side anymore to frown at my every superficial remark.
I’m so dependent on him that it physically hurts me to be miles away from the only person who happened to me by chance, I’m so dependent on him that it makes me want to maybe mourn the demise of what we used to have and constantly crave the reassuring hug that I was rewarded with. I’m so dependent on him that I think I’m no longer who I used to be. I’m happy on the outside, yes and I’m having fun, I’m living to the best of my abilities but internally, I’m screaming, I’m bawling and I’m constantly cursing circumstances that have brought this intangible distance between me and him.
I am as detached as I am dependent, which means I forget to call people at the end of a long day or even otherwise, which means I get distracted by the slightest change of setting or by the most insignificant people. To him, sleep is dearer than a social existence,which means a conversation on text cannot last beyond the first five minutes and that outbursts of affection on social media is out of the question. In times like these, how could we possibly continue having what we had without feeling like there are parts missing? Recurring cycles of one person blaming the other of negligence, of having forgotten the only parts that are worth remembering and constant accusations of one having forsaken the other, are all inevitable.
Truth is, I cannot predict the future and I cannot make promises of being a more easy going mess of indistinguishable feelings. That does not take away from other parts of the same truth and the fact that if the past is anything to go by, we’ll see each other through till the end of the line, maybe not with each other but together nonetheless, because we’re weird, that’s who we are, that’s how we choose to function and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Truth is I will always be more paranoid that I let on, I’ll always be more insecure than you know and I will always be hounded by thoughts of you getting more and more impatient to let go.
Truth is you will always continue being secure in the knowledge that what we have does not need calls, texts or proximity to substantiate it, you’ll always be more compassionate, ever loving and that you’ll always be more there for me than I could ever be for you.
Truth is, somedays, more often than I should be,
I will still be wondering where I am headed.
Truth is, the answers come easy when I’m with him,
Truth is, days on which my wolf is covering under insecurities,
And I will need answers to reassure myself
That it’s not futile
That I won’t regret it,
That our bond won’t fade away
Truth is, that I’ll always be hoping…
that someday, when I turn my head and find him there
With arms wide open
For me to run into
Where he’ll wrap me into a bear hug
And tell me
Baby, I’m here to stay.
Truth is, we are who we are and we have what we could.
Truth is, we could let go and still be on strings.
Truth is, a part of me is you and all of you is me.
Truth is, you and me and all around us is just waiting to be.
(My apologies for the overly pretentious Title. My apologies for being dyslexic with emotions. My apologies if this felt like a waste of time. No apologies for feeling some feels.)