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Love or Obsession?

Untangling the Mess...

By Udita SharmaPublished 6 years ago 8 min read
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Sigh.

I don’t know how better to begin this blog than the word aforementioned. "It sucks"—another expression that often resonates inside my cranium.

I met someone and started talking to him as I was sort of challenged that I would never get him. I won the challenge, of course. But once we started talking over messages I realised just how much of a loser he was. He had little knowledge of English (a language I prefer conversing in), couldn’t even properly type in Hindi, and was capable of making only small talk (I do not like small talk). Perfect recipe for disaster, right?

But there was something about him that I couldn’t put my finger on. The way he spoke to me, the way he sounded earnest about everything. Was it our constant, unending whatsapp conversations that paralysed us from living our everyday lives? Was it the first time that we met outside? Or was it the first time ever in my life when I threw up after drinking and he held me while my entire body convulsed and vomited on his clothes and he unflinchingly let me? Was it when he first held my hand, interlocking his fingers in mine and eye-balling other guys to protect me? Was it the way he hugged me? So tight and yet so tender? His hugs. I never quite got over those for a very long time.

I still vividly remember how I was casually seeing someone else at the time when I started developing feelings for this fellow. I of course, lived in denial, kept telling myself that I was reading too much into a deep and meaningful friendship. He never quite got over his denial phase either, until very recently when he confessed his love for me. And then a week later told me that he was lying. Is anyone up for purchasing copyright to make this into a movie?

The entire experience was surreal. I do not recall crying for a boy in my entire life. I am 25-years-old and do not recall feeling so helpless for a person. But, wait! Before you start using the "L" word, there is something we should analyse first.

He was the first person in my life that I felt I couldn’t “win over.” No matter how many questions I asked him, he would always deny having any feelings for me. It may be pertinent to note that the person in question is an alcoholic.

I never had any delusional ideas about ending up with him. I knew from day one that he and I were very incompatible on paper. But sometimes… just sometimes, seeing how much he made me laugh and understood me on certain levels made me crave. I have sometimes even entertained the idea of him and I ending up together, while simultaneously knowing in the pit of my stomach that it was not possible, that he could never hold an intellectually stimulating conversation with me. I always knew that this was not a lasting union. But I craved for a union nevertheless. A part of me just wanted to “acquire” him, make him stop living in denial mode, be happy for however long it is that we can be, and end the dating experience on an amicable note, while making sure our friendship did not suffer gravely, as has been my record in the past.

But, he just didn’t relent. I remember feeling so helpless when he repeatedly acted moody and refused to take my calls when in this phase. I remember constantly blaming myself for the way that he behaved, constantly altering my behaviour just to fit in with his current mood. Nothing worked. I tried talking. Of course, communication was not his strong suit. Evading important topics certainly was. I remember feeling so helpless that I reached his doorstep. The only thing that stopped me from ringing his doorbell that day was the fear of being exposed of this lunatic behaviour to my boss. You see, this guy and my boss are related. It was only for the fear of not facing adverse consequences in office that I restrained myself from entering his house. I remember lurking outside his house for an hour, taking photographs, asking his neighbours if he lived there, asking strangers to call him out for me. I cried that entire day on an empty stomach. I just couldn’t understand what was it about this guy that had turned me into a complete psycho-stalker. I knew for a fact that I ordinarily wouldn’t care to talk to someone who wasn’t interested in talking to me.

Two days later I confronted him about his behaviour, about how he had turned me into a mental person, a version of myself I didn’t think existed. I confronted him about how his constant blowing hot and cold was messing with my head and told him that it was his responsibility to fix it. He denied having any responsibility towards me in any regard and the next day proceeded to shout at me and told me that we could still be friends but will not hang out alone. “We could still be friends but will not hang out alone.” He had broken up with me. Of course, in his world we never went out.

It was around the time when he back-flipped on his ‘I love you’ that he told me that he was also seeing another girl and that he liked her more than me.

Six months. All of my time and energy was spent in trying to understand what he wanted from me. Why he became a baby before me when we spoke on the phone at night and told me about his deepest fears. Why he would wait for me for half an hour before office just so that we could walk together (yes, it was an office romance. Judge me!). Why he would obediently listen to even the strictest of my commands when his mood was “right” (admittedly, a behaviour he could not even explain to his friends who knew us as “just friends”). Why he would physically shake me up when he shattered our friendship and told me that there was more to my life than him. Why he incessantly hugged me and profusely kissed my arm and head and told me how much he had missed me during the time when we were not talking. Why a week later he would look me in the eye and tell me that there was someone else. Why he pushed me into depression and didn’t bother when he saw me losing weight on a daily basis. Why he could not control his loving gaze in office. Why he would ask just me for lunch when others were present. These are only a fraction of the number of questions I have that have no answers. In all fairness, though, he did warn me about his “unpredictability” and his issues with commitment. But why even discuss commitment as a reason for not officially being with me if you find someone else more appealing than me?

Are you confused? Imagine my condition all these months, thinking I was smarter than him and that I will figure him out and make him confess to me whatever he honestly did or did not feel about me. I got so entangled in him that I forgot to live for myself. He would often ask me as to why an “intelligent” girl like me would fall for a “gawar” (illiterate) like him.

Was it love? Or was it just obsession? I know for a fact that it was the latter. But what I felt for him other than obsession was almost maternal. As though it was my duty to fix him. I felt the magic of his touch fading over time, with the way he mistreated me each time. I somehow kept believing in the goodness of his heart, thinking that all he needs is to be fixed mentally, to be freed from these, almost bi-polar mood swings, and that then he will be true and honest to himself and me.

One thing that I noticed about his onset of “moodiness” was that it was caused by communication between him and this girl that has been friends with him for years. I saw the confusion and then the moodiness. I saw how cagey he would act every time I would ask him where he was headed when he had to meet her. I would have to ask him three to four times about why he couldn’t tell me where he was going, before he would tell me that he was going to meet her. I saw the guilt. But I somehow overlooked it because I trusted him. Yes. Trust. Despite all the B.S. he loaded on me on a daily basis, I still trusted him to tell me the truth. Honesty was the one quality he possessed.

I very strongly believe that every person in one’s life has a purpose to serve. I suppose his purpose was simply to make me stronger. And man, did I become strong! Towards the end of this relationship/ friendship/ crap I began becoming immune to his antics. His name flashing on my phone was no longer a happy/ exciting event. It, at times, even seemed burdensome. But I nevertheless enjoyed his company.

My only hope now is that he gives up on his alcohol addiction, realises his mistakes, and tries not repeating them in the future. That girl that he says he's seeing lost her father to alcoholism. I just hope he realises what he’s doing to her and amends his behaviour before she too, writes a blog way more intense than this one.

breakups
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