Today started as any other day. A day when I loved, and lost, and loved again. Often it is that I wonder, is it the inevitability of pain that draws me to attachment and love? People look to love for salvation, for elevation into a higher realm of happiness, warmth and satisfaction. I, on the other hand, am more used to it tearing my heart apart and pushing me down till I find the next elevator of new love to take me back up again.
I had love. Yet every day I felt a pain. A pain from fear of having my heart-broken, as much as from a fear of breaking someone's heart. For it is not as much the pain of separation as the prospect of starting over again that always had me afraid.
And today was only another one of those days when I would have to contemplate starting over again. She was beautiful, too beautiful. And I was in love with her. This was deeper than yesterday's love, or so I told myself.
Foolish heart. Never realizes that every time we love, it is equally deep, yet we fool ourselves into believing each one is more than the other. Perhaps it is our inevitable unwillingness to settle. Perhaps it is an ironic consequence of us being named the Human Race. Funny. Race - the word itself draws the most obvious reference to running.
Running - the constant state of delirium that we exist in, traversing our self-created benchmarks and milestones, each one as much a product of our disillusionment as the one before it. It is as much a part of our lives as the air we breathe.
I digress. This was supposed to be about my love. This is how it is with us. One moment I am pondering my heartbreak for the day. The next moment I am contemplating the connotations of us being named the Human Race. Running thoughts, ironies abound.
You would wonder how a tramp like me could be in love with someone as beautiful. My base mind perhaps does not deserve to ponder upon the beautiful smile lighting up her eyes and the subtle story lurking beyond her lips. Was it the way she looked at me that suddenly brought the life back in me? Was it the way she spoke, the syllables rolling off her tongue like the loving strains of a pianist in love? Or was it just the way she was - an embodiment of freedom and the promise of life - a promise I had learnt to feign ignorance of.
I had been lying there, at a corner of the street, watching the cars speeding by, people with their constant chatter and their cellphones and fancy gadgets walking by, the distant rumble of the newly constructed subway, reeking of an existence as pointless as it's beginning and end.
And then she came along. Time stopped. The sunshine itself was in an unending embrace with her, and the world seemed to blur out as she caught my eye. For a moment I forgot everything else. All I could see was the flutter of her lips as she spoke and the twitch of her eye as a gust of wind swept over us. She held out her hand. And I wanted to take it. I was in pure delightful wonderful love.
And then it happened. As my eyes took in all that was happening, I realized she was offering me food. A pack of left-overs. The glass palace I had built crashed around me, and the pieces shattered my heart. For a moment I had forgotten that I was not her equal. That Fate had not deemed fit to create me in her reflection. I had deluded myself into thinking she was looking at me, when all she was seeing was a sad, crippled creature who she could bestow charity upon to redeem her own soul.
I thanked her for the food. She walked away, never to return. My moment of love had come and gone. My heart was bleeding yet I knew I had to shut myself off from feeling the pain. I had lost again, and there was nothing new about it.
The sunshine had taken a liking to me it seemed. It caressed my eyes with the gentle touch of a mother I knew long ago. It held me up and wiped my tears. It embraced me to drive away the pain that was aching inside me. I was in love again.
(to be continued...)
I had love. Yet every day I felt a pain. A pain from fear of having my heart-broken, as much as from a fear of breaking someone's heart. For it is not as much the pain of separation as the prospect of starting over again that always had me afraid.
And today was only another one of those days when I would have to contemplate starting over again. She was beautiful, too beautiful. And I was in love with her. This was deeper than yesterday's love, or so I told myself.
Foolish heart. Never realizes that every time we love, it is equally deep, yet we fool ourselves into believing each one is more than the other. Perhaps it is our inevitable unwillingness to settle. Perhaps it is an ironic consequence of us being named the Human Race. Funny. Race - the word itself draws the most obvious reference to running.
Running - the constant state of delirium that we exist in, traversing our self-created benchmarks and milestones, each one as much a product of our disillusionment as the one before it. It is as much a part of our lives as the air we breathe.
I digress. This was supposed to be about my love. This is how it is with us. One moment I am pondering my heartbreak for the day. The next moment I am contemplating the connotations of us being named the Human Race. Running thoughts, ironies abound.
You would wonder how a tramp like me could be in love with someone as beautiful. My base mind perhaps does not deserve to ponder upon the beautiful smile lighting up her eyes and the subtle story lurking beyond her lips. Was it the way she looked at me that suddenly brought the life back in me? Was it the way she spoke, the syllables rolling off her tongue like the loving strains of a pianist in love? Or was it just the way she was - an embodiment of freedom and the promise of life - a promise I had learnt to feign ignorance of.
I had been lying there, at a corner of the street, watching the cars speeding by, people with their constant chatter and their cellphones and fancy gadgets walking by, the distant rumble of the newly constructed subway, reeking of an existence as pointless as it's beginning and end.
And then she came along. Time stopped. The sunshine itself was in an unending embrace with her, and the world seemed to blur out as she caught my eye. For a moment I forgot everything else. All I could see was the flutter of her lips as she spoke and the twitch of her eye as a gust of wind swept over us. She held out her hand. And I wanted to take it. I was in pure delightful wonderful love.
And then it happened. As my eyes took in all that was happening, I realized she was offering me food. A pack of left-overs. The glass palace I had built crashed around me, and the pieces shattered my heart. For a moment I had forgotten that I was not her equal. That Fate had not deemed fit to create me in her reflection. I had deluded myself into thinking she was looking at me, when all she was seeing was a sad, crippled creature who she could bestow charity upon to redeem her own soul.
I thanked her for the food. She walked away, never to return. My moment of love had come and gone. My heart was bleeding yet I knew I had to shut myself off from feeling the pain. I had lost again, and there was nothing new about it.
The sunshine had taken a liking to me it seemed. It caressed my eyes with the gentle touch of a mother I knew long ago. It held me up and wiped my tears. It embraced me to drive away the pain that was aching inside me. I was in love again.
(to be continued...)
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