For ten years I have believed that I was in love. Mad, wild, passionate, head-throbbing, nerve-searing love. And in love with someone who didn’t love me. Or care for me. Or respect me. Or even treat me as a human being.
Recently I met someone else who made me feel the same way. The thing is, this was lust. Pure, unvarnished, mad, wild, passionate, head-throbbing, nerve searing lust. Yes.
And this is exactly what I felt for the other guy too. Wow.
What a waste. Ten years spent on third-rate relationships weighed down by baggage. Ten years spent on low self-esteem and the consequent tangles. Ten years spent on writing mournful ramblings, listening to depressing music and spouting fatalistic philosophy. All it was, was an overdose of hormones. Damn chemicals.
And moreover this whole world I’ve built around me – attitude, outlook to life, role in relationships, what I look for in people, what makes me happy, what brings me pain – all of it is based on a premise that didn’t exist in the first place. I’ve never actually been in love.
Poof. All my advice to the lovelorn, all my so-called understanding of emotions, all my sob stories vaporize.
This past year I’ve spent fluctuating between reducing him to zero importance in my life, leveling to a ‘like-everyone-else’ friendship and preserving my dignity by not exhibiting jealousy, viciousness or bitterness over his upcoming marriage. Recently I’ve refrained from replying to emails and messages.
I spoke to him today. Trying to dodge his questions, trying to be polite and distant at the same time and then I just stopped. I said “I don’t want to come for the wedding.” He said “This is the second time you’re acting weird……(why is it is always my problem?)….I demand an explanation.” I told him that he could demand whatever he liked. And then I just said that I didn’t want to see him again. He said goodbye and hung up.
It is a strange feeling. I’m not sad. I feel….empty. Its not even an unpleasant empty, its an unfamiliar empty. I don’t miss him. I don’t miss how he made me feel. I miss knowing what to feel. After losing heartbreak, self-pity, cynicism, masochistic tendencies and intoxicating pain, I don’t have anything left to feel at the moment. But that is temporary. I have plenty of time to get used to this unfamiliar emptiness. Or fill it up with other people and emotions.
The heart does listen to reason. Mine did.