On being a hopeless romantic…

I am thankful for this last year for hundreds of things and one of them is the realization that I am a hopeless romantic. That happened on the 28^th of December 2016 and after a week, on 4^th of January 2017, I re-realized that I am a hopeless romantic. The realization means a lot to me.

Yes, though it must have been quite clear to everyone around that I am hopeless romantic, I didn’t know it until recently.

I tracked down how I became so.

I was around 10 years old when I read a novel (200 or so pages in approximately 5 hours). It was a tragedy. Two childhood sweethearts realize their love on the verge of their young adulthood and as they are going to approach their parental figure who might help them against all odds, the parent figure dies. They try and help each other. She decides to sacrifice her love and goes away. He pines after her and is going to do something that would defame him. She gets to know about it. She tries to come back to him. She dies. He cremates her as his wife. Then, tries to commit suicide but cannot. Then, he continues to live and wonders around, considered by all the others as a lunatic. I loved both of them. I remember the novel as if I read it yesterday. I still love the protagonist.

Around the age of 13 years, I was suffering through the bouts of frustration and painful reality. I even would call it depression. I didn’t have anyone to rely on. I relied on a fictional hero from the Mahabharata, the great epic written by Vyasa. For some years, I was madly in love with the character and I would say, I still have a soft corner for the completely fictional character.

All my life till he died, I was very close to my grandfather. It was vital that the only person I was very close to was a gentle and caring man. He was the man who told me to not go after love as he thought that may trouble me. Not understanding what I was doing and believing that he would be around to do everything for me and he knew better, I promised at the age of 9 that I would not seek love.

I became passionate about whatever I did. I kept my promise. More than anything, I had to live with myself and I cannot live with a liar and a person who is not genuine. So, it ended up becoming my choice to not seek love.

I do reconsider once in a while whether I have done something wrong. I often answer myself that if I would have gone after the mirage called love, I would have lost myself. Now, even him, my grandfather, not being there, I am here for myself.

So, I don’t see the picture from a rosy glass or nor am I a person who would try and find someone just to despair. I create my own rosy world and despair by myself, too. I am most of the times a quite realistic person. I just need a push to return to reality because I am hardly ever far from it. It is quite harsh. It is an amazing feeling though to be in the here and the now.

How am I a hopeless romantic, then?

I am like hearth. I don’t die till the end. Even when the coal in the hearth is cold, you can use it to ignite and burn again and again. I never stop hoping. I am a realist who is high on optimism. I am a compete eastern philosopher. I don’t see the world as a straight line. For, me reality is circular. There is not defined beginning or end for that matter.

I hope and never give up on hoping. That makes me hopeless.

I feel that strength and love are inseparable and it doesn’t matter who you are you are worthy of all the love and acceptance. That makes me a romantic.

There you go! I am a hopeless romantic.

Who would have believed a person who feels that you don’t need anyone else to complete you is a hopeless romantic?

In the answer, I would say, I still don’t believe you don’t need anyone to complete you. I also believe that happiness doubles when you share it and sadness reduces significantly when you share.

Loving this new realization <3