Today was a great experience. I attended my first Pride Parade and it was EPIC. It was indeed one of the most memorable events I have attended. But I know there are more to come. And, I celebrated it with the person I love. Well, at least I did. It’s one-sided, oops! But what I did not know about this event was that it was IT. It was over for me.

The parade meant the beginning of my peace. Love is supposed to feel great. A magical ride to the perfect future. But it’s not that. It is far from that. It is a bumpy ride with roadblocks and changing lanes. Plus, it also has lonely roads you never thought would end (but they do end). But my journey was different.

It was a strategic offline route I had downloaded. That is until she came. Everyone I had ever proposed to in college, I said “hey! I like you. I don’t see a future with you, but you’re great.” it was my go-to line and it was true. I was never able to imagine a long-term commitment. A time where we’ll be travelling, earning, and building a family. So why would I propose?

Well, here is the answer. It’s simple and self-explanatory. I’ve made my peace with it. It is because I am a Hopeless Romantic. On top of that, I have anxiety. “What if they are mine forever? Do they like me? OMG, our hands touched today.” This was my situation. Simply put, I am a person who over-analyses and created romantic scenarios in my head.

Until I realized why no one felt right. The right person was the same girl that I met on my first day. And how was I sure? Jealousy. Jealousy has ruined many lives but my most “AHA” moments were from it. The moment I realized I was gay, was when the girl I had a crush on started dating. But that’s a story for another time.

This girl and I found another queer girl in our college. We both were thrilled. We both started talking to her. And we both liked her. My person wasn’t sure they wanted to date someone so I went ahead and proposed to her. But alas, she was not ready either. Which, I will not lie, took some time to be okay with. But I was fine. A week later I get a message: “WE’RE TOGETHER”.

You both were not ready. You both wanted something else. So how was it possible? How are you two together? But they just were. Now I know what you are thinking- This could be about her and not your “lover”. And I agree, except that I could tell. My lover was the one I was thinking about. When? How? Why am I jealous? It is real?

Their relationship broke off after a week. My lover felt used. I felt sad. Sad for her. I genuinely wanted to help her in healing. Fast forward to today, I feel empty and angry. Angry because I opened the door to love, pain, trust issues, and self-realization. Realizations about what I want and why I want it. I am confused, is it enough? Is it enough for me to just do everything and not find love but myself again?

All my love could talk about today was- Relationships. I wish I had a girlfriend. I want to connect with someone. Is it me/? Am I unloveable? Will someone treat me the way I wanted to? My record is speaking for itself. I loved the parade. Oooh, I love all of it. I wish I had a girlfriend. And I was there listening to all of it. Listening and feeling that I was invisible.

I did everything I could have done to win her over. Make her feel loved and secure. Love letters, confessions, open talks, solving her problems, etc. etc. listening to her say this shattered all my dreams, hopes, and courage. Not even for her but everyone else. Now I feel that I am the problem. The one who is meant to be alone.

If we look objectively, it was not me. The issues were to be resolved by her. But at that time, I couldn’t. When you are hurt and emotional the lines get blurry. And I was on the verge of a breakdown. Just a call or text away but in millions of shattered pieces. I know that I’ll find someone. But it hurts to know that the “someone” is not her.

Something is in front of you. You can’t see it or even feel it. You have all the senses. What does that make you? And let us be truthful. No, I was not obsessing over her. She said that she liked me too. But she was afraid of getting her heart broken. And afraid of being used again. Despite realizing that she always comes running to me during a slight inconvenience and breakdown.

I tried that too. She’s still confused. We talked about the times she wanted to propose to me. Flowers, cake, and the best of all confession. But then again she got afraid. But it is fine. Right? It does not matter. I’ll just move on. Big deal. But it is. I can’t just ignore my feelings for her. Nor is it like I can push her away. The only way is distance and boundaries.

But why is love so complicated? We know that love is not enough. But to feel it every day when you see her. And replay the moments again and again. It’s exhausting. It’s depressing. I hate this feeling. But I hate myself more for letting me feel this way. Opening myself up just a little too much. I love her and love alone is not enough.

So that’s the needle. The needle to the fantasy balloon that I hope never met. My fantasy of her and me. The college romance is over. The needle has done its work. Her words worked. I am leaving. Should I still have hope? After all, I am a hopeless romantic. The lives must go on. Nothing stops and my university will not cancel exams because of this.

So I shall take your leave. Relax, meditate, and love. Love is everywhere, you just need to find it. And the poetry artist inside me has emerged. See you later.

Chao!

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