A Story of Incomplete Love

Love is truly the most beautiful feeling in the world. I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn’t be more thankful to our mutual friends for breaking the ice and introducing us to each other. It was a beautiful evening in your favourite pub, and I’m glad I met you before the night kicked in and I drifted with the mood and the music of the place. I had never been more sure about anything before, I knew something had just clicked right in that moment.

The initial awkwardness towards initiating a phonic conversation was mutual. But when it did, it escalated quick. Within a month, we had met more than a couple of times and spent at least an hour on the phone every day. The infatuation was turning into fondness and liking.

But the immaturity of age and the recklessness about thinking only of the present shadowed the dark looming prospects of the future.

Love at a young age is guided more by the impulsive emotions than the heart. The effort that we put towards knowing and understanding each other took a downhill not too long after we entered the relationship. In my life, I have always been extroverted and social, but I was also timid and fearful. I was a fan of homeostasis – the tendency towards a stable equilibrium – I hated change. I still do.

In love we got used to certain things and then came the unexpected spike of taking each other for granted for most parts of our overlapping lives. It’s not that the interest faded, it is just that the love was too much in the initial stages and reduced to the normal levels after a while. This change was too much to handle. We had set the bar too high; expectations were bound to remain unfulfilled.

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Then came the fights; squabbles on the most clichéd issues. We had always thought of ourselves to be special and better than the couples around us. Turns out, we were just as common.

All this aside, the love still tried to bridge the gap between us and we managed to be together for yet another couple of years. We were growing, becoming more mature with every passing day. And just as we started to appreciate the simplicity of being in love together, life took an obvious turn – college ended, we started working.

Stress at work always propagates back home. Every one needs to vent out the frustration and we always understood that. Problems resurfaced when we couldn’t give each other the most basic thing in a relationship – TIME.

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We were both always too devoted towards the work. The similarities in our professional outlook were an important part of the relationship. We always thought we were compatible because we were alike in a lot of matters. Our separation was a result of being too identical.

We both took work too seriously and started cutting down on the time we had for each other. The distance between us kept on increasing with every day and no amount of romantic dates could help mend the scratches.

The most beautiful feeling had turned sour. We both needed to separate and we both knew it. The only thing I’m glad about is that we still had a shred of comfort zone left between us to discuss the break-up and be mature about it. We were hurting each other and hurting ourselves in return as well. The break up wasn’t good but it was necessary.

Maturity is when you realize that you love someone enough to let her go. The strength of our love was the saviour of our sanity. We always knew it wouldn’t be easy, but we knew it would always be worth it.

I’m glad I fell in love with you. This isn’t a story of betrayal or heart-break. Just the most generic love story of the present generation. I have left this relationship knowing that we have both become a lot more better in our lives than we were when we entered it. We grew together, we loved and fought and learned. The memories will always be special but the journey is over. Life goes on.

[ctt template=”3″ link=”KBR9c” via=”no” ]It is hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.[/ctt]

We are still friends. We still love each other. There is still a level of comfort and understanding between us. We are just old enough to realize that some love stories need not have endings.

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