You don’t worry my dear Mama,
I’ll rise again,
From the fallen ashes,
I’ll spark again.
I’ll spark to make you proud,
I’ll spark to mend your wounds,
I’ll spark to be in your old age,
I’ll spark again from my ruins.
An year before, I was mentally several years younger and
significantly more naive than the woman I am today (an oxymoron, but true). I
was in love, a lot, and further put into mess by an emotionally weak heart. Or
at least I thought that I was, and I ended up wounded, scarred, financially
broke, pathetic and entirely heartbroken.
But haven’t we all atleast once in our life? Haven’t we all
atleast once thought that this is the worse it can get, and I don’t know how to
get through this extremely exhausting phase of life. Haven’t we all wondered
then, that as if we are stuck in this mess since forever and for forever?
Love (arguably) means giving out your best to that love, layer by
layer peeling open your cocoon to do so, just because you believe that “love
interest” deserves the best. It is the most vulnerable situation you put
yourself in. Scary, risky, unknown and unpredictable. And it’s not until we’re
truly charred by it that we realize that it was the fragile heart that we
risked.
But then why we find ourselves young, suddenly alone, and then in
love again. Forgotten about the effort it required to be in that kind of love,
the investment required to nurture it, and (forgive the MBA Terms) absolutely
zero guaranteed returns. Maybe because, once there, we suddenly notice that
vigorously thumping heart. Suddenly, we realize just how much alive that
thumping can feel.
In this last year, I have been crazy in love, multiple times, with
anything that I could hold onto to let go of the previous love (a vicious
cycle). Sometimes romantically, sometimes passionately. And in love… not just
with people, I have fallen in love with organizations, with ideas, sometimes
with money, once with the idea of being the best daughter, and other times with
fame.
And all of the above love(s), unarguably, turned into an ex. I
remember that frenzy to attain that love, those tears on failing, that
clutching my hair and crying in absolute desperation, to plan again for next
move, to rehearse the dialogues, to finally giving up on one love and moving
onto another.
In those months of darkness, when I supposed I was at my weakest,
I rose stronger. Not to forget the people I clinched onto to make me strong, I
had become an emotional fungus, depended emotionally on people other than
family for sustenance. God bless them.
But today, suddenly I don’t regret falling and failing repeatedly
in love. It taught me what it means to give all of you to somebody, or
something, wholeheartedly. I learned how to try, fail, and try again with
scratches on your heart.
I learned to appreciate confusion and desperation. Desperation
brings out the best in people, makes them comfortable with themselves, their
own thoughts. I learnt to appreciate silence, to spend time inside of my own head.
I learned how to drink an entire bottle of wine by myself, and I learned how to
put the glass of wine down.
I learned how to live my life without regrets, just let everything
be on the table of past, and accept that it will be there forever, like some
shining old antique. I have learned how to fall graciously after a leap of
faith goes wrong.
I might have been given nothing but darkness to start with, But
now I realize I was given an opportunity to be a better, stronger person. I was
given the opportunity to make myself worthwhile to those who matter to me, I
was given a chance to realize what actually mattered to me. I was given the
opportunity to mend my own heart back together.
And now I know that life happens, Disappointments burn you, put
your world to darkness, but you keep lighting matches anyway. And you got to find
the parts of you to put back together from those ashes, and you got to move on
and give yourself a second chance, with a heart that is stronger than before.
