Libra Love

This was the third story I wrote but it was about a month later from the first two. The style of it is a little different as it uses Love as the overarching theme right in the front. This story speaks of unrequited sacrifice and contribution and the angst that accompanies it. As to how it compares to the first two, I leave it to you to decide.
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Ever thought whether Love had a horoscope? Well, if it did, it would be Libra because it is like a pair of scales. In Love, there is always giving and taking but the key to it is balance. It is never a good omen when the scales tip excessively to one side and what it will leave behind is a trail of unhappiness and suffering. I was born under the horoscope of Libra. However, I never knew how to strike a balance in Love and unfortunately, I had to endure each and every ounce of unhappiness and suffering this unbalanced scales left behind.

When I first met her, she was not exactly the most attractive person around. She did not ooze copious amounts of charm and neither was she gifted with a beautiful face. To put it plainly, she was nothing more than ordinary. This ordinariness was not limited to her physical appearance; her character was also extremely average. Bubbly, outgoing, sociable and vocal were all adjectives that I would never use to describe her. We were classmates and it was only due to this reason that I even noticed her existence. Through some small chat I had with her, I found out that we totally belonged to two different worlds. We had totally different interests, goals and perspective of life. Also, I was the type of people who could never endure loneliness and always had to be in the company of others. She, on the other hand, was comfortable with being alone and going about her own life. However, Love is extremely magical. When Cupid’s arrow shoots you, there is no way you can escape and that is exactly what happened to me.

Even until now, I have no idea why I was attracted to her. We had almost nothing in common and I am sure to her I was not her best friend yet strangely I began to notice her. Slowly, I wanted to know more about her – her family, her hobbies and what she thought of me. Of course, all these were not done blatantly. I did not have the courage to tell her that I liked her or maybe to put it more succinctly, I was even afraid that she might find out about that herself. I had to ensure that my questions seemed as though they were but passing questions that were linked to the conversation. Although it was tiring having to think through everything before I even strike up a conversation, I was always happy when I got my answers. That was when Love first planted its seed in my heart and yet I had the faintest idea whether the fruit this seed would eventually bear would be sweet or bitter.

To me, she was like a magnet; drawing me nearer every day. When I did not see her, my mind would be racing with thoughts of her. Whenever I thought of her alone, I would smile like a silly little kid but all this made me feel blissful even though she never once displayed any reciprocation. Slowly, I began to sink into this quagmire of affections. I began to fuss over her and showered concern over her. Even the slightest cough from her would get me uptight and I always had to think through whatever I wanted to say to make sure they were sensitive enough not to hurt her in any way. Sometimes, I was very afraid my concern would be too overwhelming and obvious in such a way that she would know what I was thinking. I would consistently tell myself to practice restraint and remember to toe the line of friendship. However, I could not stop myself from doing all these and that was when all the suffering began.

To me, she was everything. Her happiness was all that sufficed. Whenever the environment became quiet, I would strike up a conversation just to make sure she wasn’t feeling bored. Whenever she talked about herself, I would convince her that she actually had quite a handful of achievements just to make sure she had something to be proud of. From the choice of food to type of movies, everything was catered to her interest and soon I even began to forget what I myself liked. Everything she said was etched deeply into me and I could even remember the most trivial things she said about herself such that they mattered more than the biggest achievements of my life. To me, everything was about giving and I thought as long as she was happy, I would be happy. I did not yearn for the slightest reciprocation like a single word of concern for me.

However, that was what I thought. Actually, deep down I longed for at least some sort of reciprocation. It did not matter if I gave one hundred percent and just received back one percent. A single smile or word of concern was what I yearned for but I did not receive even that one percent. All that existed was me giving and giving.

When I was alone, I would think why in the world was I doing all these for? Why was I acting like a silly and stupid person giving and giving, asking for only a smile that she never gave? Deep down I was feeling very tired. Tired of spending my time and effort just thinking of ways to make her happy. On top of that, I felt extremely sad. Sad that I never received a single word of concern from her and my existence was almost negligible in her world. The feeling was like an overflow of gastric juice making my stomach sour and my ears teary. However, I could not stop myself from caring for her and thus this pain only proved to intensify. In the middle of the night, tears would trickle down my cheeks just thinking of my one-sided affection. As the seedling of Love grew within me, so did this pain and weariness.

Eventually, I was totally overwhelmed by all of it. I could no longer withstand the pain and weariness Love was giving me. I was but human and all that talk about giving without asking for returns were but idealistic notions. Today, I decided that I had to let go of this affection. The only way for me to be relieved of all that pain and weariness that was plaguing me was for me to learn to let go. I made the difficult decision to leave her and in my heart it was like cutting the thread that linked us together. However, this thread had already been implanted into me. I had to rip it out of me along with the part of me it was attached to leaving me all bloody and wounded. I knew that for the pain to stop I had to endure this heart-wrenching pain. If I could succeed in doing so, I could remove the lease that was put around my neck; suffocating me to death. It was as though someone held on to my heart and crushed it. Ripping off these affections left a deep gash on me and my whole body was dripping in blood. Beads of tears flowed down my face but I knew if I could leap across this barrier, it would be the last time I had to cry for her.

Hopefully I can really succeed in letting go. If not, this pain will only return to haunt me with ten times the magnitude and when that comes, I know I will no longer have the strength to pull myself out of that quicksand.