A (somewhat) Happy/ unhappy love story......After the Proposal...!

Another chapter in my real life love story....Part 8...contd....from Oct 5th post...

"God brought me to this earth one day; He took 5 years, 4 months and 5 days to create you; and another 23 years to bring you to me." - this was Mr A's exact words in a random text message to me on just another random day. We were both at work. I often wondered what was going through his mind while he wrote this. I don't even know why I bring this up now, but this 'snippet' sort of stuck with me ever since Mr A sent it to me. Not sure what triggered this message from him, but it was around the time of Mr A's birthday or may be a week or two within that time frame.

In all honesty this text astounded me as I stared at it for a few minutes; it was rare that Mr A expressed his feelings in words and this was one of those rare moments. Not because of how he expressed his thought, but from the fact that this was something he or I would NOT just make up on a fly. A deep thinker would actually have to put some serious thought into this....into the enigmatic wonder of it all..... to be able to frame the right words. I mean, I don’t think I would have ever thought of this back then. So when I read it one fine afternoon, I was blown away. The fact that I remember it so clearly after 15 years still blows my mind. Gosh.........and sometimes, I hate myself for remembering it so distinctly.

Anyway, back to that evening of our engagement - right after I said, or rather nodded, ‘Yes’, resulting in Mr A slipping that beautiful ring into my ring finger, everything around me seemed like a blur. I was ecstatic; I mean I was engaged to the first and only man I ever fell in love with. A lifetime of togetherness to look forward to, right?

The truth is, when you’re with the love of your life, the engagement doesn’t actually change anything. The love is already there. The excitement to spend each day together is already there. You're sort of already unofficially committed to each other before the ring makes it official.

But then you suddenly have this sense of awareness that getting engaged is about more than just getting a ring or more than throwing a party. It’s about keeping those vows. It’s about living by those vows, even now, even before you walk down the aisle.

It means prioritizing someone else. It means valuing their happiness as much as your own. It means staying with one person. It also means opening yourself up in every possible way; putting your flaws on display. It means being your most vulnerable.

It ....also ......means putting your trust in someone who could potentially hurt you. Yes, hurt you. It means believing them when they say they are never going to do you wrong. It means trusting that they’re never going to screw you over. And it means making the same promise to them. It means trying your hardest to avoid causing them pain. It means always doing the right thing by them.

It's about making a home inside of another person’s heart. No matter where you are, no matter what you’re doing, you feel better as long as they’re standing by your side. It means you’re more than partners. More than soulmates. You’re best friends, too.

And that awareness....that unconditional feeling......is what gripped me like a suction pump; all of the above feelings, the depth....the completeness I felt.

It is so much more than some random, euphoric feeling; it isn’t always fluffy, cute, and cuddly. More often than not, that kind of love has its sleeves rolled up, dirt and grime smeared on its arms, and sweat dripping down its forehead.

It was beyond anything I had ever felt before.

And yet, in spite of all those exhilarating feelings that was bombarding me, I was ridiculously scared at the same time. For him. For Us.

Because I had realized that loving Mr A with that sense of depth....unconditionally.....meant that I would and could do absolutely whatever it takes to make him happy; weathering the storms, even if it meant to crush my own sense of comfort or happiness for his sake. I had only heard or read of this unconditional feeling in books and articles, but to actually self-reflect and feel it realistically......was something else.

Which begged me to ask myself the bigger question - would I be able to endure mentally whatever might come our way...high or low?

Honestly, I didn't know. I just hoped I had the strength for it.

I remember insisting to Mr A that we go to church that evening after we got engaged, because I wanted to; I was quite religious in those days; even now I am. But that ring on my finger signified more to me than I would've imagined. I wanted to thank the Lord and tell Him in my own way that "I'm surrendering this engagement to You. On behalf of both of us. Without You, this wouldn't work, so please, please JUST be with us."

I guess it was because, I was internally grappling with all sorts of mixed emotions - the fact that on one hand, I had wanted us to get engaged the way we actually did...quiet and simple, but on the other hand, I wanted it to be with the blessings of my parents and family, which didn't quite happen. So in essence, I was hoping that the Lord was on our side on this. After all, anything is possible with Him. Little did I know, there were other plans in store for us.

I don't remember the rest of that evening after that. In fact, later that evening, I didn't really take much effort to show my dad my ring either. Not sure why. I'd figured that when he notices, I'll tell him. After all, a formal engagement is what parents and family value more. So why stir the pot unnecessarily, I thought.

My father noticed it alright. The next morning. He asked me looking at my hand, "Did Mr A give you that?"

I said, "Yes."

He nodded, "Okay. Good. It's nice." And he went back to his usual "whatever" he was doing.

My father can be a complete sweetheart and yet complex at the same time....this was one of those moments. Hard to tell what he was thinking at that moment.

Now that I think about it, it was probably the following evening, that Mr A and I met with his buddies, Mike and Sam; we shared the news and had dinner together. They were truly excited for us, just like the rest of his friends and extended family were.

I, on the other hand, couldn't wait to break the news to my friends/college-mates in Bangalore. After all, them being nosy about my love life, is what got me this far. While I was in Dubai, one of them tried to call me to get a sense of why none of them had heard from me since I left.

Coincidently, it was during that evening after we got engaged. I remember picking up their call while I was with Mr A, so I told my friend (let's call him Steve) that I'm going to hang up and I will see the whole 'lot of them' when I'm back. I guess Steve couldn't wait until then when he asked me the impending question outright, "Ok. Can you just answer one question then? Everyone here just wants to know."

I asked, "What is it?" I knew what he was going to ask.

"Are you engaged?", I smiled and was silent for a few seconds. I figured that should have given him an answer. After all, silence always speaks louder.

"I'll let you know when I see you all". I didn't wait for any more pleasantries or a goodbye. I hung up.

I was always mysteriously secretive about my love life; they knew that. So why ask? I mean this was my life, my boyfriend/my fiancé. It was no one else's business to question it.

Although I was elated on getting engaged to this amazing man, Mr A, with whom I was irrevocably and unconditionally in love with, there was also this sense of looming sadness within me during the following days. I can't quite explain it. Almost like I could sense some sort of impending epiphany. I felt like I was wandering room-to-room, saying goodbye to a much-loved old home. And worse, I felt guilty about my sadness—surely newly-engaged people weren’t supposed to feel this way?

But here’s the thing: mixed feelings are as commonplace as mixed drinks—they’re just not often acknowledged by society.

And my sense of intuitiveness was and has always been on high alert. Somehow, I had this weird feeling that things yet to be coming my way were not going to spell 'happy-moments'.

And call it my over-intuitiveness, but this mixed feeling was something I couldn't explain or even share with Mr A; he would've brushed it off telling me that I was overthinking it all. In fact I KNOW he would have said that. Which is why I didn't even tell him what I was feeling.

Processing all of this in my heart, I was unusually quiet throughout dinner with Mr A and his buddies; in fact Mike noticed and asked if I was okay. Mr A instantly covered for me and said it's all the emotional upheaval from leaving Dubai AND him in 2 days. He looked at me and smiled. He was right. I was going to miss him terribly. It was going to feel like torture. Damn, it already did! But he was right about one more thing - I was also going through some major upheaval internally....of a different nature.

The next 2 days went by with packing and wrapping up for my trip back home, as I was choking through all the emotions I was feeling. Dad was getting his affairs in order in the office, since he was taking a break and travelling back home with me. Our flight to Bangalore was scheduled for the afternoon of August 5th. Mr A, as expected, came to see us off at the airport.

Goodbyes are NEVER fun. For Mr A and I, it most definitely was NOT. My anxiety was at its peak that day. We were holding hands and doing small talk, just trying to calm ourselves. But it was probably evident for anyone passing us by that this goodbye was NOT easy for either of us.

How am I going to do this?

How am I going to get through the next 8 to 9 months missing this man like crazy?

Most importantly, how was I going to manage this cold tug-of-war between my mom and Mr A?

I had no idea. I knew this was going to be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard. Now that Mr A was right in front of me, I felt this immense sadness that I've never experienced before. I felt hollow, and weak, like I couldn't trust myself to keep standing.

It's like this - all of the memories rush up inside of you and get caught in your chest. All of the love you shared sends electric currents through your skin. All you want to do is hold onto this moment forever. You want to pause time while they are still them, and you are still you.

You wish the world could stand still while the two of you are still intertwined, while the two of you still share a world, while together.

You take a mental snapshot of their face.

You try to burn their voice into your brain, so you never forget it.

You hug them more tightly than you’ve ever hugged them before, hoping that you will be able to remember what it feels like to be cradled in their safe arms.

You feel the warmth of their body and wish you could stay in this embrace forever.

You look into their eyes and you pray that they won’t forget this beautiful universe the two of you created.

What I didn't realize at that time was that the unexplained mixed feelings of excitement, getting engaged, love, pain, uncertainty of our futures, all muddled into this giant cauldron of emotions, coupled with the feeling of being ripped apart from the one person I loved more than anything at that point of time in my life, was causing separation anxiety for me.

My dad finally came over to us; he finished checking in our bags. It was time to go. Mr A and I said our final goodbyes; we couldn't possibly kiss each other in public, even if we wanted to.

We looked at each other one last time, smiled and slowly, I started walking behind my father, past the check-in counters towards the gates. I noticed Mr A standing by the airport barricades watching us, while I looked back at him ever so frequently. And in one swift moment, just like ripping a bandaid, I turned away from my sight of Mr A, closed my eyes briefly and walked further, looking ahead.

That was.....in fact .....that IS still, one of the hardest things that I ever had to do.

Our waiting time in the Emirates lounge and the flight back home was a vague memory; I think I might have spent the entire flight sitting next to my father, in silence, and just looking out the window.

We reached Bangalore late afternoon; my mother had arranged for someone to pick us up from the airport since she didn't drive; however, she tagged along as well to receive us. While we were in the car, mom bombarded me with her string of questions about my internship, about the people I worked with and more specifically, Mr A, all of which I answered, just like a dutiful daughter.

How is Mr A? Did you speak with his parents?

Who all did you meet?

yadi, yadi, yadaa.... and so on.

It almost felt like an interrogation. She noticed my hand and saw the ring, of course, and asked about it. I told her Mr A had given it. She didn't say anything after that. There's that cold vibe again.

The rest of the ride back home was in silence, with my mom and dad talking to each other for the most part, while I looked out the window. Thinking. Missing. Reminiscing.

I couldn't wait to get home and call Mr A to let him know that we had reached. In truth, I couldn't wait to hear his voice again.

I think, me leaving Dubai, was equally hard for Mr A as well. Apparently, when we talked the next day or so, I was told he had camped out at his friend's place for 2 days, following my departure from Dubai, due to his own share of separation anxiety from me. I was in tears when his friends related that to me over the phone one evening. He was my first love, my first experience of anything real. And damn, we loved each other.

Over the next few days, both my parents figured it would be best to talk with Mr A's parents. To sort put a nail to things, one could say. Fortunately my father did most of the talking with Mr A's dad over the phone. He's quite a nice man, my dad said. Coincidentally, Mr A's parents were visiting Bangalore to see their daughter aka Mr A's sister that week, so they mentioned that they would drop by our house to visit us the following afternoon. I was seriously excited to meet them. Finally. And they proved to be extremely nice people; exactly how Mr A had described them. My dad like them too and surprisingly, my mom as well.

Moving forward with a wedding was the obvious next step for both families; after all, it was Mr A's and my decision to be together. But that was pending, me completing my degree first, which would take another 9 months or so. And Mr A planning an appropriate time to come to India to have a wedding. So basically, all of us had a bit of a wait until then.....

My classes for the third trimester had resumed soon after. The first day back at college was interesting; the moment I had stepped onto the college drive-way, it seemed like everyone had their eyes on me. Looking at me so intently. Observing. After beating around the bush around various related topics in an effort to get me to spill my gut, since I was evidently not volunteering my relationship status, a couple of friends could NOT contain themselves any longer and asked me straight out if I was engaged. Smiling cheek to cheek, I affirmed, with delight, that I was. It was interesting to see some of the reactions I had received that very instant when I said I was engaged. Hahaha. Details of which are irrelevant here.

In the interim, things between me and Mr A were as normal, and yet wonderful, as they could be. Me, being busy with college. Mr A, being busy with work. In the midst of it all, Mr A and I had resumed back to our normal routine of morning missed calls, texting and phone conversations, just like it was before I went to Dubai. But this time there was this comfortable feeling of the known....of the person on the other end of the line.

Somewhere along the way, as the weeks passed by, my mom's egotistical reactions towards our relationship seemed to get more and more stressful. Not just for me, but for all of us. When my father was around, I honestly did not get a glimpse of the negativity. Or maybe I just did not notice. But right after he went back to Dubai, the slow drama began to unveil at home. This is exactly what I feared would happen.

I tried hard to reason with her most times; tried to understand the source of her negativity; the source of her taunts and remarks; argued, tried to empathize and agree with whatever she wanted, but in truth, it felt like I was talking to a brick wall covered with choc-a-block of ice. It wasn't just getting through one layer, but rather through multiple layers just to get to her heart. I often wondered, had I done something so bad for her to feel this bitter towards me?

Silly reasons & silly things seemed to be the butt of unreasonable arguments at home. And that too, frequently. Which was not the case before. Honestly, I couldn't make sense of why.

My brother wasn’t around that much to experience this. Knowing my mother too well, he preferred to stayed away for a major portion of his day, either hanging out at college or with his friends, not wishing to even remotely get roped into this situation. So in essence, I had become the obvious target, one could say.

I never let Mr A know, more than quite often, of what I was going through at home from these stressful moments. I couldn't. This was after all, between me and my mother and I knew I had to find a way deal with it.

However, at times, after dealing with the negative gibes and remarks which were excruciatingly getting more and more hurtful about things related to wedding planning, marriage, our relationship and so on, I would turn around and take it out on Mr A at the end of day. Poor thing, he would call me just to see how I was doing after a long day at work and I would randomly snap at him; he didn't deserve that. Sometimes his days were hard as well and I could tell even if he didn’t say much. But quite honestly, my reactions ruined the rest of both our evenings. I hated myself every time I did that. But I was honestly clueless on how else to handle this entire conundrum I was dealing with.

Don’t get me wrong; despite all the negativity, Mr A and I still found our happy moments, whether it was him sending me a surprise gift for my birthday all the way from Dubai or us just even talking on the phone. We still had those wonderful moments. But this time we could sense there was dark cloud hovering above them all.

And I'm not sure if it was just a feeling, but I could sense that with all the drama between by mother and me, intertwining his parents and him in the mix, was starting to wear Mr A's patience levels relatively thin. A good part of Mr A's and my conversations most days was trying to deal with, reason and get past the negativity; basically things started taking a different tone at some point....

And the harder I tried to make things better, things just spiraled downward for me and my mother. The impact of which did not make things any easier for Mr A and me. I pray to the Lord that no one.....absolutely NO ONE...... should have to go through this EVER in their lifetime.

If one had to ask a simple question here- what was really my mother's issue with my relationship with Mr A?

The answer is I do not know. And I still don't know. Till Today.

But over time, which has been very long time now, I have come to realize that her actions and words rendered herself to be a trigger for what was meant to inevitably happen in our lives.....

....which is a conversation to be continued.....

....Stay tuned for Part 9........

#openlife

#real-lifelove

#treasuretheoneyoulove