A random thought today. I remembered a friend who casually quipped in an all-guys conversation that there’s something beautiful about unrequited love. The statement was made on grounds of personal experience, and knowingly said in the presence of others who have been there before as well.
The beauty is in the unconditional nature of the act, in the your-my-only-one-because-I’ll-always-feel-this-way idealism, in the quiet acceptance and selfless spirit. The chief thing that has to guard all these things is untaintedness. Or at least an attempt that comes close, one that tries best to fight against the theologian’s verdict that even my tears of repentance are tainted with sin.
Time, growth and learning about the greys of the world makes it harder to deal with untaintedness. Reluctantly, we have to escape from the sanctuary of innocence and brace ourselves for murkier depths in reality so as to fight for a purity that is more potent than just the mere illusion of it which innocence could give.
Still, that lie was so refreshing. Refreshing in the existential sense because it meant lesser ambiguities to wrestle with philosophically. And also in the sense of hard reality.
But now, when I look around at all my friends and try to find that person – The person who gave that bracelet, who baked that cake, who folded those cranes, who gave that rose, who wrote that poetry. The person who had dreamed about that future someone. Who could frame a perfect wedding day, at a outdoor garden with a band that played your favourite songs. The person who could look into that someone’s eyes, saying decidedly you are special to me, and meaning it without any memories of brokenness.
I can’t find those persons anymore. Be it my friends, or the younger ones who only look rash, childish and familiar because they are a reminder to one’s past stupidity.
There were times in the past when I can look at the night sky, admire the moon in the distance and trust that somewhere out there, there is someone looking at that same moon.
I can’t feel that feeling anymore, and sometimes I miss it.
