Two to everything

So I suppose I can finally share my awesomely good news. I have a pretty cool new job. I am happy and most are very proud of me, most being the operative word. People who read this blog and know me, know what this job is. I’ll probably talk more about it in subsequent posts, but for now—baby steps. All I can say though, is that this could well become my dream job.

Unfortunately, the euphoria of this great life event has been significantly dulled, as I mentioned in my previous post, due to the behaviour of certain others.

God has a twisted, strange and evil sense of humour, I’ve come to the conclusion. Long ago, he brought a man into my life and made me entirely and completely dependent on him, without letting me realise this. And then suddenly, right when I was at the cusp of making some life-shaping decisions, for which I definitely needed him, he took him away—literally, one fine morning.

He gave me a sister who I am extremely close to but made a life for her that is thousands of miles away, so that I get to see her only about one every five years. How nice.

Then, after many bumps and falls, he gave me the almost-perfect love story. For the longest time, no fights, no ego, no communication problems—only love, laughter and lots of fun. People would look at us and say we’re perfect for each other, the cutest couple they’ve ever seen, etc etc.

Now, I was prepared for the honeymoon period ending. Nothing is ever that good for too long. But come on! How can you go from being crazy in love and having eyes for only one another, to constantly bickering, ignoring each other, understanding and accepting the differences between each other and yet, steadfastly not doing anything about it, regularly humiliating one or the other, and thinking only of yourself? How?

A relationship, any relationship, but more so a romantic one, is co-dependent. No one is asking you to give up your own identity, or your own life for that matter—but there is a certain amount of cause-and-effect that happens, a dependency on each other, and most importantly, a need and desire to make each other your top priorities, that is, if you’re looking at a potential future together.

You need two to tango; to clap, you need two hands; to kiss, you need two pairs of lips; to fight, you need two lungs and two sets of ego; to work out an issue, you need two compromising souls; and to make a relationship successful, it takes two. Take away your partner and you’ll look like a fool on the tango dance-floor (if there is such a thing); take away one hand, and you’ll look really stupid holding up the other in anticipation of a clap; take away a pair of lips and all you have is a pout—doesn’t come close to a kiss… you get my drift.

Just one person cannot invest time, energy and love into a relationship. You can judge whether or not the person you’re with respects you by observing how s/he treats the people around you, and how s/he treats you around people. If your partner does not respect you, or the people in your life, or if you feel a lack of respect for him/her and those in his/her life, the relationship is unlikely to work.

The most ironic thing is that my certain someone sent me a mail recently about how falling in love is easy, but sustaining that love is that much harder—it’s not about whether you’re with the right person, but about learning to love the person you’re with, and no matter what, sticking it out and making it work. But both need to work at it.

The article also talks about how many search and find solace from the demanding relationship outside of it—most commonly by cheating, but sometimes also by turning to alcohol, friends, or anything that keeps you away from the better or bitter half (latter adjective courtesy of a friend). Do you really expect your problems to disappear by staying away from each other and piling on the nastiness? Or is this the easy escape route?

I find God even more bizarre for having made human relationships and emotions so bloody complicated. Do you think the animal kingdom is wrought with such issues? I mean, Olive Ridley turtles mate and then the male turtle swims away God-alone knows where, while the female turtle returns to the mating spot to nest (as usual, the man gets off easy. I know, at this point, some people are going to bring up the Sea Horse, but really, let’s look at the ratio, shall we, people?) The point is, I doubt either the male or female turtle gives a shit about the fact that they may never see each other again.

We’re still not sure about life outside Earth, but I’m confident, and hopeful, that these un-earthly beings are free from the kind of emotional baggage we humans carry.

It’s easy to lose each other, break the trust your partner has in you and take each other for granted, and it’s that much harder to maintain and work at a relationship to make you happy, in the long and short term. It’s up to you to decide what you’d rather do.

I know, this is another one of em bare-all posts for which I’ll receive both flak and encouragement. But like I’ve said before, I’m a writer, this is how I do it, this is my blog and I’ll do as I please. If you are a part of my life in any capacity, it’s likely that you will be written about. No offence intended, if you don’t like it, you’re welcome to stop clicking. For the others, share share and share some more, the crap you have to deal with in your twosomes as well.

Leap of faith or walk of reason?

Something amazing has happened. Like really amazing. I can’t tell you what it is yet, but shortly, very shortly. And this is an amazing thing that I’ve been waiting for, for a long time. And it’s happened, but I’m waiting for it to really actually truly happen before rejoicing. You know? No, how will you, what with me being this vague. Soonly, I promise.

The point is, despite this awesome thing happening to me, it was immediately, if not even before, negated, or rather annihilated, by something not-so-nice that happened (read: positively awful). Of course, right? How can life, even for a day, be perfectly good and in sync? Nah, too much to ask for.

I’ve got this sinking feeling. It’s one of those feelings that is sadness mixed with anxiety and some dread thrown in, stirred up with a trickle of joy. Bizarre. Will it or will it not? Should I or should I not? What I’m asking right now is, should I take a leap of faith or take a walk or reason?

The leap of faith means that despite knowing that the odds are stacked against me, I follow my heart and go with what I want. The walk of reason would mean that judging by the height of the odds piled up against tiny, l’il ol’ me, I do what I should do, and not necessarily what I want to do, and walk away. Of course, it’s never that easy, is it? Too much at stake, too much to lose.

If I take the leap of faith, no doubt I’ll *probably* be happier in the short term—probably being the operative word. I might even be happier in the long run, too. But will I always wonder... what if? Is it...? Should we have...? Can you truly be happy with these many questions looming in your mind for.the.rest.of.your.life?

If I take the walk of reason, for a very long short term, I will be miserable—tried and tested. But in the longer long run, does it make more sense, a better call of judgement? No easy answer is there?

And of course, while my mind and heart play this tug of war of decision, I am just confused. How do I behave? Do I pull back or give in? Love or let go?

During this entire internal turmoil that's searing through me, I did a weekend away with my family away from home—well at least some of them. One of my closest friends is leaving the city for a year to study and all that – bleh – so we decided to spend our last weekend together at a beach far away (more like in the back of beyond’s bum). But the further the better, and a blast was had (not the kind of blast I had on my birthday, but you know, metaphorically). This included tossing about a football (yea, apparently I can do that), playing taboo, and making the YMCA of our silhouettes against the setting sun. Maybe it didn’t quite turn out to be the YMCA, but ah well.

So often, when I’m with these guys, I wonder, what would I do without them? I mean, there are only so many people in the world in front of whom you can look like a mess and not give a shit, have no shame or any such thing with, and discuss absolutely anything, including detailed conversations on bowel movement. Apart from of course, knowing each other better than we know ourselves. I think everyone deserves to have friends like this—if you don’t, you have no clue the kind of madness you’re missing out on.  

One of the things we also spoke about is friends. How most of us have a different person to go to with different problems, but some of us have that one go-to person for just about everything, who will not judge and yet will be brutally honest with you (I do have one, and she does both, which is why I can’t do without her –she’s grinning ear-to-ear reading this, I’m sure). Over the years, those friends and your go-to people also change; they’re bound to—distance, growing up, jobs, partners and all come in the way. Does that mean you should no longer be friends with or close to the person who was once your go-to person? Certainly not. That person may have taken a different space in your life but if s/he mattered to you at some point, s/he will matter always.

I randomly think of people I called friends once upon a time. I think of her giggle while we slept over at her place, I think of his laughter at the bad jokes we cracked at the many house parties, I think of his hug at the end of a long day, I think of her tears when we were saying goodbye and the letter she wrote to me, calling me her sister, I think of the three-way phone calls with both of them late into the night. They all mattered so much back then and today, when we are no longer in each others’ lives, I still think of them—even though I may have been friends with them many, many years, almost a lifetime, ago.

I suppose you have to cut some people out to make way for the new—friends, lovers, relatives, etc. But it’s tough, and frankly, a little depressing. Sometimes, I wish, I could have em all back, just as always, and just keep adding more, till my life is exploding with love and laughter, and I still greedily ask for more.

I’m aware I’ve made little sense today, pardon me. But sometimes, you just gotta let it out. And guess what, I can—cos that’s what writers do. J