Now I Lay Thee Down...

I think being in love takes practice.

Or maybe it's some skill I am yet to acquire. Something I have not mastered yet.

I wondered for days if what I am feeling now was right. Was it one of those ways masked to help me "cope"? Misplaced feelings? Or anger wrapped up in something else? Was it a wrongly diagnosed symptom? I wonder if today you know how I feel, I wonder if you'd be hurt. I hope that maybe you'll feel comfort instead. I know you felt guilty, and I hope you can feel happy instead cause I see what you meant.

I know now what you meant when you said you did not want me to change. But the sad thing is that I changed. I changed so much. I changed beyond recognition. They all told me that I was changing. And I felt happy when they said that. Love is such a stupid emotion, no? I should have been wary, but I instead embraced it. I wanted to be perfect for you, but little did I realise I was instead getting closer to imperfect. That I didn't need to change. That I was good, the way I was.

And it took me 365 days to pull myself out from the debris, rubble made of up broken little pieces of me. And when I did, I was shocked to see what had become of me. And it's only now that I can feel alive again. That I can feel the wind flow over my body, that I can breathe.

On one hand I am happy that I could love someone so, truly. That when you got hurt I felt physical pain. That I loved you more than I loved myself. But in that process I forgot who I was, or what I stood for, or what I liked or disliked. I forgot what made me, me.

I am happy that I made you happy, but I dislike myself for letting your rejection matter so much that I started hating myself. That I stopped loving myself. If only I had shinier elbows, unblemished knees, that if only I was a born a few days later. That I thought I was unworthy of any man's love. That even when someone wanted to love me, I thought I was not good enough.

I find it shocking that a woman of my generation should feel like this. Am sure you would too. That I should think like this. How am I better than the women of my mother's generation? Atleast in their defense, they truly were helpless, restrained, bound. What excuse do I have? Why should I feel the need for a man's love to validate myself? Why should your "you're an amazing woman" matter so much? Why should I need your[man's] hand by my waist to feel desirable? Why should I feel helpless without your presence in my life? How could I define my future with your aspirations? How could I paint my walls with your dreams? I don't like the fact that I fell for it. That I am just like all those countless women I despised. I called them weak. How am I any different? And I am supposed to be. Cause I know better.

I find myself in a difficult spot. On one side, I want to love a man, to be completely his, and on the other, I want to retain my individuality. I want to be his woman, but I still want to be me (and I know it's possible). On one side I want a man's love and on the other, I want to bulldoze over all these ancient temples we have built for the men. On one side I want to be soft and feminine and on the other, there is this belligerent side of me that can slice open a man's heart should he treat me any less. I need to find a balance. Am I the soft peachy woman who melts in a man's arms? Or am I the strong one who does not need a man's arms to hold her steady? I realise neither. I am somewhere in the middle.

Being in love is lot of hard work. Atleast for me it is. I hope the next time is easier. And I hope I will not be like clay like the women of my mother's generation were and the women before theirs, but instead like steel. I'll bend and I'll fold, but I will not cleave. I will not crumble into dust again. That I will always be me.

P.S: I am really touched that some of you get worried for me but this is just to let you all know that I am not unhappy and that I am not going to jump off some cliff any time soon or slit my wrist and wait for all blood to drain out of my body. So relax, go get yourself a cup of tea or coffee or a peg of whiskey and enjoy your evening with a loved one or even a good book.

And if my not so cheerful posts make you feel bad for me, then erm, I am looking for the perfect cheerful yellow dress, buy me one?