Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Endless Loop

"You think you're hurting now? Now how does this feel?" and I stuck the knife in deep, twisting it further into the heart — slicing, ripping, tearing. 

"You think this pain is killing you. In fact, you are dying. You are dying a million deaths and have died a million deaths and will continue to die a million deaths. But you will also continue to live, even when feeling this pain again and again. And you will learn to appreciate it, you will learn to think of it as your own, you will learn to live, even while dying."

Countless times I have found myself giving relationship advice in the last several months, and yet it is only now I pause to realize this has happened. Why is it that one becomes a beacon of hope, light and wisdom when you've been to places they don't even know exist; when people turn to you and ask, "How do you do it?" But really all my advice is pretty much the same. Don't be me.

I was asked: what is the one thing I would tell my younger self if I could go back in time? My answer was that I wouldn't even tell my younger self anything. I would backhand my younger self the hardest slap ever, making sure it drew blood.

And then I — like everyone else — would walk away.

OK but that's just it. Don't you see? I literally DID go back and walk away from myself. I kept doing that again, and again. I did it by telling myself that everyone else was walking away. But the fact was I really needed that bitch slap, hard. Now when I think about the person I used to be, two, three+ years ago I feel grossed out. I mean, that sappy girl just needed to get a grip on herself, she pisses me off that much. She still hangs around, don't get me wrong. Sometimes her woe-is-me drama rears its head when she puts on a Hindi soundtrack and if it's this song, she gets choked up with tears thinking to herself that she believed in true love and it did not get reciprocated, or if its that song, then she'll get angry and bitter and filled with black poison about life and think about evil-sounding invectives targeted at all and sundry but mostly herself.

But I don't know, I'm kind of not really her anymore either and that's a huge relief. I stay away from watching Bollywood movies too. The few movies I allowed myself to watch recently were because xyz saying I had to watch this movie because the character's character was my character. Yeah.

So I watched Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. And I'm like, so which one is me? They're like what are you talking about, obviously that girl? I'm like no bitch, all five of them is me. They're like man you have more issues than I thought. I agreed.

Then I watched Dear Zindagi because again someone told me the protagonist is me. So I made the big huge mistake of watching it and it was a mistake because I ended up stuffing a pillow in my mouth because I was sobbing so hard it was just so much fun to pretend to be a chipmunk at 4 in the morning.

I don't know. I found that falling in lustlove so many times this year was a huge fun fest and yet, the fun was in knowing I wasn't letting myself get caged in. The best of all was falling in love with myself. And finding out that falling out of a nest doesn't necessarily mean you can't fly.