A Lesson Learnt

A Lesson Learnt
I was holding her hand for the hundredth time in the past week, but this time I didn’t want to let go. It was quite late in the day, and it was the time was getting a bit odd. It was going to be a bit odd for a celibate like her to reach home at such a late hour in the day, but I had not had enough of her company. I’m sure her parents didn’t have an idea of the bonhomie that had developed between us over the past few weeks, and they were certainly not going to appreciate an acquaintance with me, someone quite older than their daughter in  years. An intimacy had developed between us probably we needed each other’s company. She needed the attention I gave her, and I needed the love she gave me.

All the same, I could never have had enough of her company.  It was like opium: the more I had of it, the more it added to the thrill that ran down my spine and through my senses. I had come to a point when I don’t think I could possibly live without a regular dose of her company every day. I don’t think I can ever have enough of her company, and it was only beginning to make sense when she got up to leave me that day. I had a feeling the beautiful moments we discovered while with each other over the past several weeks were not going to be a part of our life ever again. I didn’t want to lose the friend I had found in her after the prolonged periods I had spent in isolation, but there was nothing I could do at that time. Her company was like discovering an oasis of water after a long walk through a desert.

Being with her made me feel good. It pushed me to the zenith every day, and I practically forgot all about the world and all my angst against it when I was with her. She made my day seem to be complete, it completed my life; practically, she completed the incomplete person within me. I made it a point to be with her for a few hours every day because I wanted to feel good, but life was not going to be as I wanted it to be. I strongly feel life never gives you what you want from it. It always works antagonistic to one’s wishes and desires. I didn’t want her to go, but she was not   going to do what I wanted her to. She had her own opinion of events that proceeded to change our lives, and they were strikingly different from the opinions I held.

She was following the dictates of her intellect. Unlike me, she had a practical mindset. She knew a life with me meant little more than a lot of misery and suffering. I had made it quite clear to her that life with me is not going to be a bed of roses for any of us, and it was owing to this confession I made before her that she chose a practically easy life. On the practical front, there is nothing in me that can prompt anyone to be willing to spend a lifetime with me, I know. I sometimes wonder why Allah chose to mould me in this manner. there is nothing in me that makes me an ideal companion for anyone, I know.

We had drifted apart from being the similar minded persons who had known each other a couple of years back. the drift had begun a few weeks back, probably when she realised chances she had of finding a better companion. I had done my very best to convince her of the spectacular beauty she was and I had begun to express my gratitude before her for accepting me as a prospective life-partner. The reality had begun to become clear before her by the way I had made my confessions. I had made it clear to her that I am not the Prince Charming who can fit into the ideal image ladies have of their life-partners. I am aware of the several shortcomings within me that make me different from everyone in a negative manner.

Luckily or unluckily, there was no commitment on either side to take the relationship to a stage where it was sealed in a permanent format. I let it break down at the altar of the differences we had; virtually, there were no similarities between us, although there was an attraction between us typical to that between two people from different genders. I sometimes feel it was a part and parcel of the immature attraction people fall for; many of them let it develop into a full-fledged love-story. Surprisingly, our intimacy and interaction had brought us to a similar climax, but the end was a lot different from what is perceived as the ideal.

Somewhere deep in my bones, I knew she was not going to come back to me when she left me that day. She didn’t have a reason to; it had been a one-sided-love story where I had been the one who had been pushing for the relationship all along, while she had never shown a sign of a similar feeling for me. I had failed to grasp the meaning in her silence when I had asked her in words whether she loved me. I had taken her silence as an affirmative, and this was where I had lost the battle. She had been weighing options, and she ultimately didn’t find the side that declared love for me heavier than the other side. I wish I had grasped the message at an earlier instance, it would have been a lot easier for me to assimilate the separation than it is now.

Her hand felt the same today, but it did have a different feeling when she left me. I am sure I shall never get to hold another hand with the same warmth running through me ever again. She taught me an important lesson of life, and I hope I assimilate it well within me. I hope it makes my life easier.