In love, with love

To love, what a beautiful feeling! And to be loved, an even denser feeling.

To receive, what an exquisite thought! And to give, an even more delightful thought.

To accept, what a fascinating emotion! And to be accepted, an even more charming emotion.

It is so baffling to explain what encompasses this glorious word love, but I like to think whatever it is made of, it operates on these above mentioned beliefs. But is there a uniform facet to it? After all, each of us are such divergent individuals that a uniform route may definitely not work. So, does this mean that love may be discrete for some of us; or perhaps for all of us? Doesn't that mean it is completely pointless to assign a definition to this emotion? It just needs to be felt and lived; by each in their own beautiful way.

During one such sleepless nights following a chance encounter with a stranger over the metro, I came back home to write something profusely. And all I could scribble was: “I wish we find our lifetime in those moments, which don’t last”. I cannot recall why I wrote this or would this would have meant at that point of time. All I can recall is, it meant something! Something vivid, something mismatched and something endless. This feeling was a pretty strong one indeed, for someone I did not know anything about.

As destiny had it, a couple of days later we bumped into each other at the same place. While I was still contemplating what this could mean, he was sure of what this was. I didn’t know what this could be, but I was sure it was the beginning of something beautiful. We never decided what we want to make of this, we were just 2 people, in a big city, with very few words.

During one of those nights, we looked into each other's eyes and the stars at the following moment, and we both knew what was to follow. I could see his insecurities and his failures, embedded deep inside and he could see how broken I was. We spoke about how we both have been challenged and lost, and sometimes worse, even accepted defeat. I was not the first person he loved and he was not the first person I looked at, with a mouthful of forever. We had both known loss. We had both known heartbreak. We had both known misery.

Yet, we wanted to complete the missing pieces of each other. We wanted to be just there for each other. We wanted to offer all our emotions to each other, saying things we could never say to someone when the time was right. We are both broken people, trying to fix a part of ourselves by lurking onto each other. We both knew that we would not meet the next day, but in that moment, we were complete. And perhaps, that is what these encounters meant.

xAG