The human mind is a frightening place, but perhaps, even more so are the emotions that our species face on a day to day basis. It varies from absolute anger lashed out on the rickshaw driver for denying your ride to a state of vulnerability where you are the most naked self. In spite of emotions and feelings being one of the primary things what makes us, well, us, they also top the list in making us assholes. Because, and only because, they switch, flip, and toss whenever they like. At least for me, they do so.
A personal and questionably, the most vexing habit my emotions possess, are the random switches. I feel one day and the next morning, I am numb even if I’ve been in love for over a year, or even a decade perhaps. When I was in high school, I felt proud of this trait because I was able to feel and not feel as and when required. To be able to feel affection one day to showing something similar to a different being on the following day, was an achievement of sorts.
Today, though, I hate myself for possessing the same switch.
I explored a plethora of emotions after college began, ranging from being lonely to enjoying the freedom which made me so foolish to get an infinity tattooed on my wrist. To being able to go to a boy’s place and breaking the curfew, gave a newfound thrill. I loved it. Or rather, I got infatuated with the new thrills.
But, my silly brain also fell for someone. Someone wonderful. A rocky road, in the beginning, we finally got together. Probably in the purest form, there has ever been. A dreamy state where I would come back home after a heavy night of intoxication, only to find comfort. A comfort of embraces and intertwined fingers and toes. The best kind, in my opinion.
Too good to be true, though. My fickle minded feelings decided to flip one sunny morning, without any warning. I fought and resisted to feel just a hint of it because even that would be enough to sustain us. Remorsefully, even after convincing myself day and night, I couldn’t go back to what I had once felt. And however difficult the decision has been, I had to take it. Even though I don’t want to let go of the comfort and the most honest version of me.
Yet, I wonder, is lying and hurting both of us in the process really the way to proceed with our lives? I wouldn’t be able to, knowing that I’m keeping secrets, even from my own journal.
All there is left to say is, I wish my emotions didn’t betray me. So that we could stay the way we’ve always been.
(If you’re reading this…I love you, baby, I will always do so. And I’m sorry.)