In Love

It's that time of the year when love is confessed. I know I am a day late, but my signature date is the 15^th, so any confession I ever make will happen on this date.

I am clumsy about offline confessions, but I believe I hold some charm when writing about my feelings.

So, here in this blog, I confess my feelings to you (it would be sad if you didn’t read it, though). But even if you didn’t read or didn’t understand, it's alright. I believe in destiny, and all things will come to a settlement.

So, here it goes…

 

As a little kid, my definition of love consisted of my love for toys, my favorite food, and my parents. Love was something I believed I couldn’t live without. Love made me happy.

Then, my younger brother was born, and I learned love was a responsibility. It was looking after and caring for someone.

When I made friends in school, I realized love was laughing at the silliest things, being carefree and unaware of all the troubles and problems.

When my best friend moved away in 5^th grade with tears in my eyes, I found out that love was letting go sometimes.

Then the High school Era rolled in, meaning meaner kids and messier hormones. It made me fall in love with living alone.

Corona helped me detach from people my age, and with screens between our conversations, I lost the concept of love altogether. I was in my golden era of ‘eh, who cares’ or cringing at lovey-dovey movie scenes.

Self-love reached a peak somewhere around that time. And let's say that, loving myself, I realized what a problematic girlfriend I am. I felt glad to save many boys.

Loving yourself is exhausting; sometimes, you look in the mirror and go, ‘Ugh.’ Being in a pre-college exam-burdened relationship was challenging. It was strained with accusations, blames, and words of cajole. I know one should not be harsh on oneself and all. But try dating yourself someday. It's exhausting. It's like fighting a grave battle in your head. That’s when I realized love is fighting for a better future, struggling to make it all work.

And it did turn out great. I made it to my college and was ready for all the adventures. During my first semester at the hostel, I realized love was the longing to return home. Love was leaving the hardships and rushing to embrace joy. I didn’t notice many things in the first semester; I put my naive nature to blame. Moreover, my plate was overfilled with things to figure out, from fitting in a new place to making friends, attending classes, and packing to go home every weekend. I barely had time to find out more about Love.

 

The second semester brought me to a realization: I saw the season of love unravel in front of me. And no, I am not talking about the blooming flowers and butterflies coming out in spring. I was introduced to the concept of college couples. How did I take this in? Well, I had my days. Some days, I was in a hopelessly romantic mood and found every gesture cute; others, I felt like an 80-year-old granny with frizzled hair and just annoyed by this childish PDA.

Most of the time, I was just plain awkward. Like this time when I just wanted to walk to my class and instead saw some scenes in a public hallway. Or I just came to write an article in the library. I didn’t want to be sandwiched between 2 pairs of couples, one madly in love and the other angry in love. Or the countless times in elevators. Yes, I thank God for the power of phone scrolling to escape those situations.

All this made me realize love was awkward and weird, too. And I was happy to be a single girlie.

 

One summer break later with my new haircut and a better-adjusted wardrobe. Entering my second year, I realized that this was the summer I turned pretty… delusional.

3^rd semester was wild, from classes that made no sense to people who stopped making sense.

In a way, I have been a pretty decent tomboy since, like forever, but with my growing delusions, I sometimes started to feel pretty girlie. And blushing in delusion is certainly not healthy. But it helped me realize that maybe love was an illusion or a magical delusion.

 

Now that I have spelled your name in this article at least 7 times in the pattern you can find. I think it's time to talk about the current semester.

 

Sometimes, I get a giddy feeling in my stomach from something you say or do. Do I label it as a childish crush? It's not childish cause I am aware of what is at stake now. But now is not the time to confess, at least not for me. I am an ardent believer in all the love stories; I cherish all their twists and turns. I want to have my happily ever after, but waiting and hoping is also romantic.

Till then, I can post love notes and songs. I am sorry, dear reader, for not giving an explicit name. But love is confusing and puzzling; you drop hints for the most obvious things.

 

But I don’t hold back on celebrating the season of love. Single or paired, I think we can all do something lovely each day. A little exchange of smiles can help ease someone’s trouble. Be the flicker of sunlight in someone’s life by being nice. Spreading joy is like finding love.

 

This weekend, I third-wheeled my parents’ date, and looking at them, I realized that love is trusting someone to be there for you. So, I wait for that level of trust.

 

Until then, I would love to write my thoughts, post some songs, and take you to witness Lots of Tales Amongst US.