When do ...

Differences that once thrilled, like a shot of adrenalin to the heart become a chasm to wide to bridge, that splits a union into clear, independent entities.

Without realizing it, I've begun to nag him. Short of asking him outrightly to quit his smoking habit, have done everything from "I can't stand the smell of smoke". When he drinks, it seems like he loses control. When he wants to spend money on me, in the back of my head I want to stop him from fishing out notes or charging it to his credit card. Behind each reflexive no, is an extricable connection with my intention of safeguarding the future.

I don't want him to die early - because I don't want to be alone.

I don't want him to do something he would regret - like unwittingly cheat on me when he's drunk and break my heart, because I know I will despise him and leave him if he does. For him, there is only one shot. Prematurely, one shot over a life time with me.

I don't want him to dig himself into a pit of debt - because I know I'll resent him if he does, since I grew up under largely leveraged circumstances. My investment/financial decisions are grounded on the avoidance of landing me in the burden of debt, my parents had to bear in the early parts of my life. Relieved only recently.

I hate that I nag. I hate that I nag because I'm afraid of situations that spiral beyond my control.

Fundamentally, pushing aside the currents of tension that have manifested in small ripples early in our relationship so far, these characteristics conflict fundamentally with my own. Masked, however, with the desire to see him before I sleep, the way I'm touched when he makes my breakfast, when he washes my back, or combs my hair.

A New Sense of Over

Still in Chennai, and another year to go here before a next major decision will have to be made. A career path has indeed gathered form, not yet a year in count but soon in a whisker. If one had the visual gift of tracing the line up of events retrospectively, in a somewhat edifying posture, I’d like to allude it to a divine constellation.


In a very new sense of over, He can be now be officially bestowed the epithet, sealed and locked away named as “The One that Got Away”, the same one who inspired this moniker – nubilewordsmith, the same one who kept me in thrall, whom I thought was my soulmate, whom I loved and still love, who tore my heart into shreds over several years until the day I walked away about 2 years ago after sending that email, knowing that staying would be my own emotional destruction. Two roads diverged.

You’re getting married - as I found out by way of your new fiancée whose existence I’d really have been rather content to be ignorant of, until she chose to contact me a fortnight ago. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. I chose not to respond, already having to deal with an unwelcome and thoroughly overwhelming sense of clawing grief mingled with jealousy, that made me wish that I was in her shoes. I think despite it all, I still hoped, tears under the bridge .

You did say, you can love more than one person at once. And I truly believe you – an unfortunate truth as it is. I’m sorry I cannot wish you well, that is beyond the stretch of my benevolent capacity. I grieve.

There is someone else in the picture now. Its early days, but its promise brings me undeniable comfort, balm to the sadness that somehow seeped in.