There was this poetic point in time where everyone was in love (and more importantly, being loved back) except for me. Me and a choice few singles left (namely Numbi Jim-my best sister-friend and K) would sit and whine about how we were soooo single and that it would be too late for us to ever learn to mingle.
Well, Numbi Jim, the singlest of all people I know (as in, she wanted to be footloose and fancy free and crush to her heart's delight without getting crushed) got committed. And happily. And well, too many people are in love with K now for him to be complaining. Even though, he doesn't necessarily love them back. But still!
As for me, I'm okay. I like being single, even though I do whine. But what made me happy, in a sort of vicarious way was seeing all the happy relationships all around. Of course, they weren't picture perfect (trust me, I've done my fair share of counselling for both the sexes!) but they were so....beautiful. Love that lasted. And I counted them on my fingers as statistics, as proof of that magic. Maybe I believed that their good fortune would rub off on me and I would find that same joy. Maybe I was just happy living in their happiness. So what if I was single? Their commitment was enough for me, as strange as it sounds.
But of course, it was all a mirage. Silly me for idolising. Silly me for casting eyes. People are fallible and their loves fragile.
With a heavy heart, I picked the pieces of my illusion and moved on. If there's a hook up season, there should be a break up season. Who knows what's right and what's forever? For every Jab We Met, there has to be a Saawariya. For every Brangelina, there has to have been a Brad and Jen.
So, do I shake my head, embittered, older and wiser? Is it ridiculous of me to have faith in adolescent relationships when I have witnessed divorces? Is it like believing in Santa? I want to believe. I want to have people to stand as living reminders that magic is alive and kicking. I want you all to fall and STAY in love, people!
But what if they can't? What if one day they just woke up and realised that they loved someone else? What if they were just plain bored? What if the love potion wore off or they put on a pair of glasses and realised that they were falling into the biggest ditch? I cannot chain them to my childhood fantasies and make them live them out for me. Whether they're making a mistake or not, it's their life and not mine to judge.
But people still fall in love. After all the pain and all the nonsense. They wipe away their tears and look into the eyes of a brand new person, hoping to see the world in them. I wonder how they do it. I wonder if I would be able to take it. I don't want to know.
Is love that magnificent that it can break a person and yet a whiff can make one want to try again? Is it addiction or hope?
I hope it's hope.