
Falling in love is supposed to be exhilarating. Finding someone who ignites in you that feeling of passion and brings out of you that excessively sentimental side you didn't know existed, is special. When someone makes you feel like you're the best version of yourself when you're sitting in your raggiest clothes on a cold Sunday morning, sloppily drinking your cup of chai with half a biscuit lost somewhere inside, it's hard not to slightly lose the sane part of your brain - the part that can sense the red flags.
This is what happened when I fell in love. I had, for the most part of my life, been a very detached, unaffected person. I liked that. It made me feel invincible. No one could affect me and the need to affect anyone, positively or negatively, didn't exist in me. I felt this was the one quality that ensured that I always stayed happy. I was all that I needed. My moods, emotions, state of mind was in no one else's control. How happy or sad I remained was completely in my hands.
Needless to say, this changed when I met the man that made me fall in love with him. I say he made me, because he really did. I didn't just stumble into this love. He made a persistent effort to show me how much he wanted to be with me. How much love he had for me and how great we would be together. Five months of what I thought was friendship later, he had me fall head over heels in love with him. I had never received the kind of affection that he was now showing me. I had never been able to me so much of myself with anyone. Never had I thought about the different sides of me he was bringing out. The good, fun sides that I had probably suppressed trying to keep my guard up for all those years.
Sadly, this didn't last long; but it lasted long enough for me to lose the sane, sensible part of my brain. You know, the part that allows you to see the red flags?
Just about six months later these feelings of love, safety, security and the feeling of being at home with this person were replaced with solid anxiety and restlessness. His habit of vanishing post 11pm and resurfacing in the early hours of the morning began to get the best of me. I was no longer in control of how I felt. I had, unknowingly, taken my heart and all my feelings and handed them over to someone who seemed to care very little. Every time we were together and his phone screen flashed with the name of a girl I didn't know existed in his life, my life came to a halt. We began to fight, everyday, but I didn't have the gumption to walk away from what was affecting my life so negatively. I hoped and I waited for him to go back to being how he was in the beginning. We had our moments, of pure, intense love, even when things weren't great, but it was all cancelled out by the anxiety I felt every night, waiting for him to call me and tell me he was home. This relationship had turned me into someone I was far, far from.
Eventually, after a series of texts on his phone (that were discovered by me the very first time I decided to go through it), proved that he was cheating on me with a woman I had thought was one of his best friends, I walked away. I walked away with a heavy heart, still hoping as I turned my back that he would call my name and beg me for another chance; because I wanted so desperately for us to have another chance. I didn't think a love like ours existed. I didn't think it could happen twice over. He didn't ask, he didn't call - so I walked further away.
Months later, after mourning my last relationship for what seemed like eternity, I met someone who I got on with like a house on fire. Not surprisingly, the one feeling that gripped me stronger than any other was that of fear. What if I started to like this guy? What if I developed feelings? This would happen again, I was convinced. He would be nice to me now and then do exactly what my ex-boyfriend had done. So I tried to stay away - and failed. Miserably.
My new relationship was different. We didn't have that crazy, intense passion that I had in my previous relationship, but there was a strange kind of calmness it brought in my life. As every month passed, I began to feel calmer than I had ever felt and more stable. My happiness was back in my hands it seemed, and my now boyfriend only added to it. I waited, month after month, for that anxiety to settle in, but it didn't. That nervous feeling didn't seem to go away, though. No matter how great my boyfriend was, and what he did to ensure I never felt insecure even about the smallest thing, I kept waiting for something bad to happen.
So much so, that I began creating fights. Remnants of my anxiety and sleepless nights refused to leave me. I didn't know how to differentiate between what was then and now. Every time my boyfriend didn't pick up my calls, I fought, thinking he was hiding something. If ever he went out at night when I couldn't, I waited, sitting up in bed trying to track social media stories of all his friends; wondering if he was with a "best friend" I didn't know about.
I could sense that my behaviour pattern was creating a strain on my relationship, but I couldn't help it. My last relationship had left such a big scar it seemed, that even all the love and assurance I was getting now couldn't make it heal. My relationship nearly ended because I didn't know how to accept that what I had now was far away from what I had experienced earlier. I tried walking away, fearing that perhaps I had made a mistake getting into a relationship. I just wasn't ready; to love or to be loved. I didn't want my name to be called, I didn't want any begging, I just wanted to walk away. But I heard my name, over and over, by my rather confused boyfriend.
That night, I sat with my boyfriend and poured my heart out to him. He didn't just understand, but assured me that he would help me get over this anxiety; whatever I needed. It took me a while to believe him, but I stayed and his actions backed his words.
After almost a year of being together, I began to believe that my boyfriend was the best thing that had happened to my life. He had instilled in me a confidence that made me believe I didn't need anyone. Not even him. I wanted him, yes, but I didn't need him. Perhaps, this is what love is, I thought to myself. It doesn't need to be intense, it just needs to be calm.
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