The Melancholy of Love

I was still very attached to him when it started to fall apart. We were arguing all the time, we were bitter, we wanted to push each other away and never hear each others' voices again.

It was too much to bear and still try to keep it all together. No, we weren't destined to be together ever, except for probably In one of the floating voiceless conversations we made. Well, whom can you really blame? We were two romantics who were thrown at each others' face and the fault in our stars was just that It was too late. We weren't In love but we burned each other out with the scorching heat of the intensity which comes with mortality.We were made of one year of erratic, nebulous conversations, banal philosophy, harmless humor. Of the comfort and strange intimacy that comes with the freedom of a distance of 5000 kilometers and acquaintance by association and poking fun at each other and previous commitments to other people.

Surely, all of It was enough for us to malignant a safe distance from each other, to prevent us from getting too close but still bearing the freedom to make conversation once a while. Comfortable Analects about our well eyeing and academics: seldom, but straying to personal details of literature, music, personal relationships, art, etc.Future plans of studying, courteous guidance, football, memories of a scorching Delhi summer and elevators and umbrellas and books and nicotine and beer. Life. We started with the surface conversations and soon were flung into a familiarity we couldn't withdraw from.

We discovered sides of each other. His- a repressed intellectual who wished to cease an opportunity to be understood. Of having someone who could appreciate all his words and talk back- instigate more of them. And mine- a dormant romantic, who was seeking a release. To hear about beauty and revert back to the giver.

And in each other, we found the solace of intelligent conversation. But we poked fun at each other, for the sake of comfort of not having to dig into no surface conversations, because even though there were no warnings, we knew, we weren't ordinary to each other. To young adults, feelings are big things. So we talked about them.

In metaphors about seasons. Threw in arbitrary sentences, developed them later, and cemented them with explanations and acceptance of the other. Then on- it was the holy word. To be repeated later at various instants like poetry or proverbs.What with the wisdom of 19 year olds pretending to know better than the rest of the world.

To us, we were beyond comprehension for the world, and even to each other. We wished to be understood. By ourselves. Looking for answers which weren't to be asked out loud. We desperately wanted acceptance, appreciation and affection.

And we found It In each other. We knew what the other wanted because we wanted It ourselves. Reassurances. Serenades. Praise. The knowledge of the fact that we were different.

We were two scalar people and that Is how we led to now.Screaming over telephone wires - spewing disgust and hoping to be calmed down. To be told we were wrong when we salad we were unwanted and ordinary. We had tasted heaven, In late night dreamy conversations. In double entendre and each others' music and words. Hanging onto every bit of everything we received from each other and Glenn back- bigger and better, more beautiful, more profound.

We tried in vain to maintain that distance. But bow mean something. And we both knew that. The comfort of mere acquaintance was slowly burning to the centre to an intimate hot fire of desire.

They were mere words, but we- we didn't want anything else. We weaved worlds, and creatures and stories with those mere words, with a little help from each other. We were enough, with our words and some meaner of communication. And it was beyond beautiful.

It was surreal. We were hooked onto each others' words. Words no one else gave us. Books? We grew up on them.

We had so many monologues in our heads, now we were desperate to throw them out and make it a dialogue with someone for once. Test ourselves and the other too. But mostly regale in the beauty of the conversation.