I have heart, too! I guard it well but it is there. Why do people forget that, I wonder. Maybe because I didn’t remember it myself?
I always used to think tears are a weakness till he told me different. I had never cried, really cried in front of anybody. Oh, I start oozing rivers when I’m incensed and uncontrollably angry and I hate that because people will think I’m crying, period. But that’s not the sort I’m talking about.
I have been eloquent more number of times than I can count, berating depressions, self-doubt and self-pity over and over again. “Happiness is a state of mind. If you want to be happy, nothing and no one can take it away from you. And if you want to be not happy, nothing and no one can make you happy” I believe in it so much that is all I would keep telling my friends- “Keep looking at the brighter side of things”- because that is what I truly believe, and that is what is true. But I lie. I wasn’t always like this.
I’m so outgoing and so talkative, jumping from topics to topics, making others laugh continuously, having perfected my sense of humor, that people rarely realise, i never talk about myself, that I’m actually an Introvert (?)! I am also human, I also err. People forget that. That a happy face can also lie.
It’s funny when I people tell me I’m hilarious, that I have a sense of humor that needs to be commended, a mind so fast that I leave people astounded and lagging behind. It is funny because I still remember the day when I realized I had a lousy sense of humor, which was also rooted in the fact I was too sentimental for my own good. My cousins could have me in tears teasing me mercilessly, ribbing me endlessly till I ran away and hid. That day I had my epiphany. No one gives a damn about how you feel, you distract people and make them laugh and that’s the only way they’ll never look closely and see what is there in your heart.
I was nine years old then.
And I always have been a fast learner. Since then, slowly, I transformed into an epitome of confidence, alleged fast brain, with an impeccable sense of humor and a very assured, even arrogant, personality.
And I was disappointed that I was so right.
Most of the time I’m still a case of jitters, still looking for that firm footing in the world. I’m a girl who still is emotional at the smallest things. Of course, the one who has learned to hide it completely but still let’s them affect her heart. I liked to believe the years of practise have strengthened me but there are still times when I wish I don’t have to be so strong. I have a perfected sense of humor, I can laugh at myself but I still cannot ever make myself believe that it is me they are talking about when they say I’m too good. And I wonder how the so-called sense of humor has gone so far in hiding a girl and her dreams.
It is so strange I’ve always remembered my failures than my successes, which is not good. When will I stop pushing myself over the limit and accept I’m perfect the way I am. Not my words but his. At first I pretended not to understand but was seen through. I’m an introvert who is very sociable but analyses, thinks and over-thinks. I knew what he was talking about. I had strived so hard to be perfect to everyone, but it never was enough. How can it be? But i tried and tried, gave away my dreams, thinking of myself last all the time. It isn’t something bad but some times I realised you need to think about yourself, no one will do it for you.
I found the world selfish, obsessed over the wrong things, foolish and sadly discontent. And I was becoming a master at duping them, never realising that I was slowly turning into one of them, cynical, bitter, unhappy. I forgot to believe. I forgot their goodness and mine too. I forgot and let them that I’m a girl, a woman with feelings and emotions that can flood the world. I was turning into stone.
I was drowning. Killing who I was, who I am.
And then amidst that darkness, the despair overlapping me, embracing me and pulling me down, two strong arms clutched me to a beating heart and simply held me there.
Long after that he had enumerated my failings, actually pointed fingers and said, ‘so what?’!! He helped me combat my every demon, standing silently behind, that unspoken wealth of faith in me, as I put things to right, quietly listing with me the pros and cons, the one who believed in who I really was, rather than what I showed people! The one who was proud of me and supporting me whenever I needed it, and letting me come apart when I need to. He loved me, the imperfect, the tearful. the unsophisticated, the boring, the real me.
If I hadn’t already loved him so much, I would have then.
I rarely write about him here. But he’s there in every word I write.
Once upon a time I used to write the saddest pieces which I never showed to anyone. I still have them. But they are meaningless to me now. For the saddest things move us because we do not know what truly happiness is and the only thing that we can relate to is the not-so-happy. But I believe the best creation can ever be of that one thing which will stay with you, bring a smile whenever you think of it and restore that dwindling faith in yourself. Hence, this mad blog.
He was the one who told me to come out of my shy cocoon and write.
I, too have a heart, I also feel, I also become sad, but I’m no more of ashamed of it. I still rarely talk about my feelings because the introvert part hasn’t changed. What I am doing here today is unprecedented, people who know me will be shocked. But I’m not scared to be who I am. I am imperfect and I take pride in being different, knowing no two person can be the same. And I rarely hide.
Being loved does that to you.
N.B. I couldn’t write half of what I wanted to. This probably is very disarrayed but I wanted to write. There’s nothing like believing, nothing like faith. You are the best whatever and whoever you are.
(And he doesn’t let me be sad for any length of time, and he showed me there are worse things in life but you can be happy inspite of it. It all ever depends on you.)