SCARED to lose you, PETRIFIED to not!

I am not so young and carefree anymore… in my late twenties…

For the younger version of me, love was a constant phenomenon. Only there was nothing constant about it.

Like every teenager, I fell in love. A couple of times! And I had my heart scraped. Again, a couple of times. Back then, it had felt like the most difficult thing to get out of. Nothing was more important, and life without the love-of-my-life felt insignificant and inconsequential.

Indeed… I was young!

By early twenties, I had given up on love. But that was only until I had met you.

You made me realize… If this was love, I definitely hadn’t been in love ever before. All this while, what I had been feeling, what I had been falling in and out of, it definitely hadn’t been love. How could it be?

I had just been lying to myself, believing my own lie, never realizing that I was lying to myself. It was now that I realized that falling in love is truly a wrong expression. I didn’t fall in love. I was flying, soaring higher than ever before, reaching new heights of ecstasy and nerves.

Before I could realize what was happening, you were an integral part of my life. And while the most confusing part, you were the only part that seamlessly fit in… that made the most sense to me.

I was yet to begin enjoying your companionship, and the darkness had already caught up with me. My past, the uncouth words of the men who had made me walk away, the fact that I am ‘a little too much’… it all began haunting me.

And no matter how many truths I told myself about me, the lies in their exact words always managed to speak a little louder than my squeaky little voice.

And, I waited. At times, I waited for you to walk away. At others, I waited for you to give me a reason to walk away. But neither happened.

Weeks changed into months, and months into years. And you were still here.

After having spent a long time explaining myself why we shouldn’t be together, and why ‘us’ makes no sense at all, and how being single will make life un-miserable and un-lamentable, I am still here too.

And I am still waiting.

I am not really waiting to lose you. How can I lose you when you are not even mine? It isn’t really losing you that scares me. The fear is not of losing the physical you, but the connection. The fear is of having the hollow once again as mine which you have so beautifully come to fill. The fear is of standing alone once again, and realizing that it is now that I am truly alone, a lonely lonesome loner.

The idea of losing you scares me. However, the worst part about it all is that the idea of you staying put petrifies me!

And then when I look at you, with every intention of finding answers to my questions, my questions go away. They disappear. As if they matter no more. My questions, my fears, my past, the world… everything disappears. And I am left with you. As you are left with me.