I have been in love. Truly, madly, deadly for three wholesome years. The start was good, the end - tormented. I don't blame the counterpart. Not anymore. I've learned a lot, about me, about love. I don't say, I was stupid to be in that zone. In fact, I'm glad for it. It's because of those days, I am what I am today. As of now, it's been almost nine months since I am single. There are a lot of negative emotions, a whole lot of them, given how the situations are between me and the former soulmate. But, there's this peace inside me. Of being free. Of being me. No, this doesn't mean I was captivated by him. According to me, it was time to be in a relationship with myself, more than anybody else. All these past years, somewhere in making us perfect, I had lost myself. Love makes you do that. It makes you do things you wouldn't think of doing. Good and bad. It was purely unintentional. Only when I hit the realisation point, it all fell into place. In the last year of our relationship, it was bitter. Innumerable fights for no good reason, abuses and the demeaning love. I don't recall the exact day when I fell out of it. But, when I did hit the realisation point and chose to not be with the person who I called and assumed as my soulmate, I cried. I shed all the possible tears of happiness. That was probably the best way to express how I feel. The aftermath is pure peace and an inevitable aura of sheer happiness. This wasn't because I had left him, this wasn't because I had ended the relationship. It was because I had finally chosen me over us. And, that changed my life.
Today, when I look back, I have faded memories of the time I was in love. But, they are fresh enough to not let me fall into the same pit. It's time to be happily, hopelessly single. It's time to be lost in Pink Floyd and Coldplay. It's time to achieve things I wouldn't otherwise plan to. And, just in time to be quirkyalone.
