“People like to say love is unconditional, but it’s not, and even if it was unconditional, it’s still never free. There’s always an expectation attached. They always want something in return. Like they want you to be happy or whatever and that makes you automatically responsible for their happiness because they won’t be happy unless you are.. It is a burdening responsibility.”- Katja Millay, The Sea Of Tranquility
Do you know what it is like to be rendered helpless for someone who you want to be there for? I didn’t too, until last night. Let me tell you it is not a pleasant feeling, quite the opposite instead. I heard my phone buzz at 2:21 a.m. I was hardly close to sleeping for strings of thoughts kept me up, changing sides, trying my best to let it be. I read a message from someone who has meant only a little short of my world. He is torn, broken. I didn’t know what to say, only the very thought of my strength being broken broke me too. He tells me of life, I give him pieces of mine. He tells me of mis-happenings, I tell him they keep happening. He tells me of friends, I tell him of mine. He tells me of HER and then it dawns. The person who had been my confidante for every secret of three years and more had his life under secrets. I knew of her, just not from him. I thought that hurt most. I didn’t know getting to know from him would hurt more, for the mere fact of not having been told all along. He thought I knew, I thought I did too. I failed to understand what kept murdering a little of my trust. Expectations do that to you. They are the most obnoxious things to have- expectations.
I knew then was not the time to express hurt or disappointment. We were in a more intense conversation. He tells me about her when there is little left. It has torn him limb by limb in his words and he won’t mind it more if it keeps her happy. The question then is; Does this keep her happy? Would it keep you happy to tell your partner that he isn’t much loved? Would it keep anyone happy to hurt anyone else? Ofcourse it didn’t keep her happy. The underlying truth to it, he refuses to acknowledge. I don’t force him too, if that keeps him happy. There is little else I can do for him over whatsapp messages. Words were the last resort and the only resort too. He won’t take calls, not that I was sure of what I’d speak about. Would I comfort him and say things would settle down or guide him to deeper realms of reality. I was torn too, broken too, between unconditionality and reality. She had brought down every bit of the man I knew. I never knew this vulnerable man who’d sacrifice his existentiality for but slight peace of relationships. This man was a stranger, every bit of him hurt; every cell of him was dissipating of disappointment. He asks me is he so hard to love. For me he isn’t, I was honest. I sure won’t know from her point of view so I refrain from explaining her stance. He tells me of how he’s crumbled; I cry a tear or two. He tells me of how ‘he’ is killed, it kills me too. He keeps telling, I keep telling but does that help? My tears won’t make him a little less broken, my hurt won’t please his senses and beyond it I have little else to offer. The revelations galloped me still, swallowing a part of me for never to reappear, but that is not what mattered at that time. What did was how heartbroken he was. If only I could tell her of it and she’d listen too.
There were questions everywhere, for him of love, for her of him, and for me of trust. A little of each of us died last night. A little of him, a little of myself and a little of her too- I guess. A little was rebuilt too. His hurt, my bubble and her love- hopefully so. His life is no less messy, hers I don’t know but for me I can testify. I realized of revelations that they only kill. I realized of lies that they best not confronted. I realized of expectations, they are best un-kept. I realized of love, it is best unconditional. Of trust, I’d say maybe it is more relative. What trust was broken? None and still it hurt. It would heal too, sooner or later, like all wounds too. He would be less broken too, with her or without I don’t know myself but if it keeps them happy, either ways would work.
What is life but a sequence of heartbreaks and revelations I wonder? It is a lot, it is of healing and bouncing back to good life. Of being yourself and being proud of it too. Of knowing people and loving them too, sometimes too little, sometimes just fine, sometimes unconditionally. It is of how you help yourself, no one else can, no matter how much they feel for it. There comes a moment when everyone but you is rendered helpless for your life. When you are expected to drive your own cart and pay for it too. When they might give the world for you but it’s not an option at all. There comes a moment in life when your life is about you- only YOU. The night is gone, dawn is setting in and I know what to seek in life. After all there’s always a place on earth where the sun shines.