How many loves do you get in a lifetime, how much love are you allowed? Some say there is one true love. I think there are true loves, one may be better than the rest, but there are many I think. You could have many soulmates, whoever you are. I think he was one of my soulmates. We’ll call him Saajan. I don’t know, can you pronounce it, I just picked that name out of a hat?
I think he was one of the loves of my life. I hope he wasn’t the only one because I lost him. I lost him to the wind and other women and wives. I would have rather been his ex-wife than nothing. But I was the girl that was nothing, maybe even meant nothing, to him.
Can you love someone one way? When he doesn’t love you back? Unrequited love. The love that you never get. They say it is romantic, the poets used to write about it. But it’s not. It’s horrific. It’s like having a tooth pulled, but only halfway, a tooth hanging in your mouth, bleeding to death.
He was a family friend. I’m sitting at Panera. There are others with their laptops too. I wonder how many of them loved and lost. The bittersweet fascination we have these love stories enhances our belief that love hurts, love sucks, love is for the birds. Let the doves, love. They know how to do it.
But don’t cry for me Argentina, or America, or wherever you are. I am OK, even though thus far I have not been lucky at love. I promise you, I will be one day, lucky. You make your luck. I gotta make this life work. How will I make love work when it never really has. How come it hasn’t worked for me?
I’m mad about it. Mad at fate. Who the hell is running this show anyways? god?
I wonder if god has ever been in love. Is that a ridiculous question? Yes I know, I know.
Well god invented love, the least he could do is experience it. The torture. The unfathomable beauty and pain. They say love is not god, but it’s not less than god either.
I’m not exactly sure why I loved Saajan. I mean he was alright as a human being, but honestly, some might think he wasn’t all that. So what was it? I don’t know, maybe our souls were connected, that’s what it felt like to me. I’m not sure what it felt like to him. I could never read him, I had no idea what was going on back there in that head of his. Did he love me, maybe just a little bit? I cannot verify that as fact. He didn’t want to be with me, I know that. It is in fact, a fact.
That’s OK, I’ve been rejected before. But not like this. I know I’m speaking in the abstract about him but he could be identifiable in the real world, I don’t want to identify his body. I want him to be dead to me. Which most of the time he is. Until I think about it every now and then. Kabhi Kabhi, mere dil mein, khayal aata hai. Every now and then my heart has a thought about you.
What else is there to say about him? Is it really better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? I actually think so. I can’t really explain it, but it’s better.
Losing love is gut-wrenchingly horrific. Many are not sure it’s worth it. Just because of the American construct of love being a necessary thing for life, the epitome of life. It’s easier to say yes, I have been in love. But really it’s just behind losing a parent or child to death in terms of trauma.
So why am I here even lamenting about it? I don’t know, I’m a fool. I love love. Even if it has been some of the worst times in my life, it comes with it this euphoria the cannot be equaled.
So that explains why I’m looking for more love. Am I just looking for more pain? Is this like cutting, am I a masochist?
I don’t think so. I think we came on this earth to love, to fall in love with life and each other.