Types Of Love

download (5)I was 20 years old when I first fell in love and instantly my life became full of colors. Her color brought me to a new high because we instantly clicked on every level. Our personalities went together like the summer in June, our birthdays were two days apart and my day was not complete without seeing her. We texted each other paragraph long text messages every morning, we fell asleep over facetime and made so many internal jokes. Each day that passed felt like a dive into another parallel universe because when I was around her, nothing else mattered. My family, friends, school and hobbies didn’t matter anymore because she was able to fill all those spaces in my heart. Some would say it’s not healthy but at that time I didn’t listen to anyone, besides her. One month turned into one year and I knew she was the girl I will marry. I mean, why wouldn’t I think that? We did everything together. That’s what love is. That’s what I saw in the movies, so this had to be it. Yet, we fought a lot and with those fights we forgot to give each other the space to grow. In my head love was being together and being away meant that love is no longer alive.

At the one year mark our love became an obsession that pulled the other closer if they dared to even hang out with someone else, but we loved each other. The thought of losing her would make my heart tremble, the fear of me losing her became more evident. As each day passed I became sucked out of our own parallel universe. I stopped laughing at her jokes. I didn’t have much to say anymore, but she was my home. So I always went back because it had to work this time around even though the other 55 times didn’t work. I became confused at our relationship because I couldn’t live with her and I couldn’t live without her. Our love became overwhelming and suffocating; both of us knew this but we were willing to slowly die within our self made poison we called love. As each day passed we became more distant. Hours on the phone became a quick 30 second call. 3 meals a day soon became 3 meals a week. Facetime turned into an automatic text, “sorry can’t talk right now.” As if we actually talked anymore? Eventually I got distracted because maybe deep down inside I wasn’t happy. She then sat me down at our favorite restaurant to talk and I knew what bullet was about to come my way. She said it, the three words, It is over. Within that instant the few ounces of happiness that I had left, soon became depleted.

~KirfanLive

 

I was 20 years old when I first had my heart broken and just as the canvas I called my life had become so colorful when he entered my life…in an instant my life became black and white once more. I wondered, what had happened to the two souls that seemed so inseparable? What had happened to the young love that had promised forever and a lifetime? Every day that passed without him felt like being hit by a train, but drowning at the same time. He’d always said that my heart was a mosaic he had put back together for good…and looking back, maybe that’s why I felt so many empty spaces in me. He was the glue that held me together, the reality that I felt was worth living for. Our nights together, had turned into days, and our days to months, and then years. I thought he was the one. I’ve often heard that when someone leaves your life they take a piece of you with them. He took all of me with him. He was my fairy tale in the world of non fiction. All I wanted was to keep him close, and love him. But…one year later our fairy tale was fading, and I felt powerless knowing that I was losing him. It felt like I was constantly holding my hand out to him, and no matter how much he tried to reach out…somehow our hands never met anymore. He said we had become poison for each other, but if so why was his love still my elixir? Every memory we had promised to make together, had in fact turned into a memory. But at this point, I knew it was over. I couldn’t see him suffer no matter how much I wanted him to be mine. And so one night, over dinner, I said it. It is over. With tears spilling down my cheeks, and my breath refusing to leave my throat. What else could I have done? As soon as the words had left my lips…I ran. I ran far far away from him. And I haven’t seen him since. I held him so close to my heart, so why had he kicked me out of his? I may have turned into a nightmare he wanted to wake up from, but he will always be the dream that I fall asleep to.

~V.G

 

It’s been almost five years now. I still think of him every day, but I’m sure he’s moved on by now. There’s probably a lucky girl in his life now, that he comes up behind, when she’s drying her hair in the mirror…and whispers, “hey beautiful” into her ear. People that haven’t seen me in years still ask me about him. If we’re still together. And I’m never able to get any words out. I just smile my sad smile, and continue trudging through life. So many people told him that I’m with someone now…but I’m not. I’m as lonely as ever. My only relationship is with my own solitude. I guess he needed more than just me. I still occasionally go back to the pier where we had spent so much of our time. I listen to the waves crash against each other and try to piece myself back together. I’ve found some peace though. I don’t hate him. I know I never will. If I were to completely honest, I still love him. But I’ve grown enough to know that not everything in life comes and stays forever. He was one of those things. I just hope he’s happy. Because that’s all I really ever wanted. I know that God has someone for me somewhere, and I’ll use all the lessons he taught me. And yeah, maybe I still cry in his memory. But one day, I’ll smile again…and everything will be okay.

~V.G

 

Note from the author:

This was one of the best collaborations I have been a part of to date. Me and Vaidehi have very complimentary styles that intertwine perfectly. This is one of many collaborations coming your way. Visit http://www.vaidehigajjar.com to check out her writing. #KayVStrikes

The Blossom Effect

 

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“I blossomed before you and you stopped growing as a whole”

Mistakes of all forms happen and heartaches happen at different magnitudes, but Imagine hearing that from the person you were supposed to marry. I always remember telling her she is my sidekick, my day 1 and wife. We weren’t married and just had the title of boyfriend and girlfriend, but I wanted to do everything with her. Not that I was unable to do it alone, but simply because her being with me, made everything better. There was not a snapchat she didn’t send my way that I didn’t take a screenshot of. There was not a dinner where I didn’t sneak a picture of her. There wasn’t much I didn’t take a picture of because I wanted to hold those memories. Unfortunately, through the process I lost touch with me and my world became her happiness. So naturally, I stopped growing from the inside out. Yes, I figured out my style of clothing and starting smiling more, but that was really about it. Whereas now when I look back at the pictures I can tell the exact moment in time where she lost touch with me. I can tell the exact moment in time where she blossomed and I was the same guy she met. Maybe it’s good thing or maybe it’s a bad thing, i have no idea how to feel about it. I have just come to accept the fact that she blossomed before me.

The unfortunate thing about toxic relationships is it leaves its scars on you permanently. You can move on, you can grow and be different but something about that toxicity, stays with you. The easy way is to blame her, but as a man I have to admit both of us together just didn’t work. I had to swallow my pride and accept the fact that I didn’t do enough to keep her around. I simply became boring and stagnant.

The first year was difficult in all forms because I had to adjust myself to doing things alone. I had to be okay with her doing her own thing or with friends, instead of me. I had to face the truth of me being the same guy as the first day she met. I had not grown in any way, so I really had two options? one , I could drown in my own pain and sorrow(which I was already doing). Two, I could start a new chapter in my life and never hear this ever again.

It’s been two-three years now and those words ring in my ear whenever I relax. Those words help wake me up at 5 am to start the day with pedal to the metal. I have taken out the word tired from my dictionary. I have stopped with relying on others to join me on adventures, if anything I love my alone time. I probably have grown the most this year than ever before because 90% of things I have done all alone.

I was sitting with my father one day and he told me a story about an eagle that wouldn’t fly. The eagle would just sit on a tree branch all day even though it had the ability to fly. The owner then decided to cut off the entire branch and the eagle immediately started to fly. Just as this eagle I was meant to soar but she was my branch and my comfort zone. I held on to her for dear life  because I was too scared to fly and now that I am soaring, I only want to go higher. I only want to try new things and be the best version of myself. If you are in this predicament, i’m telling you, cut off that branch. You can love someone without limits but the day you become stagnant and stay in your comfort zone is the day you will hear what I did. I promise you. The day you start doing things alone, is the day new doors will open for you.

The Last Text

Her name popped back up on my phone after so long. My stomach did flips, my heart sank and my breathing became shallow. The one person who knew every aspect of my life was asking me “how I am doing”. My old love, best friend and someone who knew exactly “how I was doing” by the way I texted is now a stranger.

Today when she asked that I wanted to say so much but all I did was apologize if I ever did her wrong and she also apologized. It was way too formal but it needed to be done because my last conversation ended in a “fuck off”. My last memory of her was a few below the belt hits. I just wanted to change that so when in the future I look back I have this conversation too look at instead of the old ones.

The hardest thing in life is to face yourself because you have to come toe to toe with your own flaws and problems. Pointing fingers is the easy way out but once things ended I had no choice but to admit where I was wrong. Like any human I tried filling the voids through hanging out with friends, shopping or acting happy but that’s not how things work. If you are sad just get it out of your system and face the internal pain you have. My method was eating very unhealthy and doing reckless things but I soon realized that was really bad for me. Instead I woke up one morning and decided its time to workout and use this internal pain towards something positive.

When I first started working out I would use her name to bring out this rage within me to workout harder. As time went on and when the pain slowly left from within me I realized I have no reason to be mad at her. We were two amazing people who just grew apart due to various reasons and that’s perfectly fine. That doesn’t mean life stops or the world is against me. It simply means we have to work on ourselves and be the best version of ourselves before we love someone else.

While my heart raced to the sight of her name on my phone I texted her saying.

I just want you to know I have no hard feelings, anger or things against you. In every prayer I pray for you to be happier even if it’s not with me:) “

After that small conversation with her I felt as if I was still in love because of how I was feeling on the inside but I realized something. Our story ended a while ago and it would be stupid of me to turn back a few pages and reread them. I already know where the story will lead me. Love is so much more than the heart racing or reminiscing on all the good times two people shared. I loved her at one point but this wasn’t love it was just an old attachment. I can finally say I broke that attachment today and didn’t go flipping through our story expecting a different outcome.

Break ups and heartbreaks are a sad part of life that we go through. No amount of advice makes it easier but here are a few small tips to make things a little easier.

  • Of course see your family, friends and take part in your hobbies but spend time alone and figure out how you feel.
  • Once you figure out your feelings you have to face your flaws and take steps to become a better individual.
  • Forgive someone if they did you wrong and apologize if you did them wrong.
  • Start working out because it helps you feel so much better mentally and physically
  • Understand the difference between lust, love and attachment because it will come in handy for the next person that comes along.
  • Go out, travel, have fun and don’t be scared to meet new people
  • The Female population on earth is 6,895,889,018 and the male population is 3,477,829,638. I promise you will find someone who clicks with you on every level.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Corner Store Man

Broken English was what I knew him as. The man behind the counter was nothing more than a the corner store man. He stood tall above the customers only because the counter made him look tall. Bulletproof glass was the only barrier between him and the customers. “Hello buddy” was said to everyone and each time I died inside because he had an accent. I was embarrassed of him and I didn’t want people to know this man was my father. He was nothing but an immigrant who the customers can mock, make fun of and disrespect. I was a young, shy and quiet kid who usually stood in the background because I didn’t want to be noticed. I remember one day a girl from my 5th grade class walked in and I hid under the counter because I thought I would be judged due to my father’s job and accent.

A bad accent was what I knew him as. The man behind the counter would make me broom and mop the store. I hated these tasks because I could hear the whispers of the kids my age laughing. I remember one day I was mopping and I saw this man throw change at the corner store man while he had his hand out to take the change. I remember people throwing racist remarks at the corner store man only because he had an accent. The corner store man would do nothing but smile back and do whatever he can to make the customer happy. I was so embarrassed because I couldn’t defend him. I didn’t know what to say, what to do and how to handle these situations. Instead I grew distant because I did not want to be at the corner store.

As I grew distant, the corner store man and me would only meet for breakfast and maybe dinner. He would always ask me to stop by and help him but I always was too “busy” or made some other excuse. At times I would wish he could just be a doctor or have a “real job”. While I was wishing what he could’ve been he dealt with body aches, back problems and various health problems. I was so blinded and so selfish at the time that I couldn’t notice he would need my help.

I soon went to college and I forgot the corner store even existed. The corner store man not only got me through college but also made sure I never gave up. The corner store man forgot all of his dreams to see me peruse mine. I followed my dreams of becoming a dancer, photographer and writer. I fell so many times during my undergrad career and he was always by my side to pick me up even when I didn’t ask for help. I was an asshole who was so concerned about what he did that I forgot who he was.

Yes, I proudly announce to the world my father is a corner store man but nobody is better at it than him. Yes, he has an accent but he can read, write and speak in 3 languages. The corner store man is not only a proud storeowner but also a son, father, husband and a selfless man who provided education to all of his kids.

As I write this I am standing at the counter greeting the customers who walk in. This time around my father is drinking tea at home while I try to manage the things he does with his eyes closed. My father is what I will always see him as.

For all of my South Asian readers, whose families are in some sort of a family business, show your parents love and appreciate them. The immigrant life is tough and it is not easy by any means. It’s a new language, new culture and pretty much new everything. Never let yourself be embarrassed of how they speak or what they do.

My own reality.

Growing up in a very sheltered family, I was always told I couldn’t do many

things. Part of the reason was I had asthma, allergies, and many other health

problems which kept me sick. No matter how sick I was and no matter what any

person said to me I always had one quality within me. I am a dreamer and always

try to be different but according to my family it’s silly because the chances of my

dreams to become reality are slim to none. I never agree with them though because

my mind works differently than most people. I am creative, I understand people

from the inside out, and I just can’t live a robotic way of life. I need something more

because I have this longing for my dreams to be a reality.

I want to become a famous writer but often people say my writing sucks or

tell me its impossible. I am a South Asian writer and I know it’s hard, but nothing is

impossible. I actually never tell anyone “I am a struggling writer” because in no way

am I struggling. In order for others to believe in me I have to sell myself through

believing in my craft. Writing is just one of many dreams. I also strive to open up my

own dance studio to teach kids how to dance. I want to be successful in a manner

where I can touch someone’s life and have them believe in their own craft. The sad

part is I have been enamored with stories regarding failure and how my window of

opportunity is gone because I do not have the right connections. I had an individual

tell me I am stuck in the dream world and I will not get to where I want to. My

response to remarks as such is let me fail, let fall, and once I fall I will get stronger

and eventually reach my dreams when the time is right.

Most people go to sleep at night and then have amazing dreams but I dream

during the day. Its silly, it may not be realistic but this is my reality and I don’t want

to see someone else’s view on reality. I have no doubt in my mind, I know I will

reach my goals but right now it is farfetched, the chips are down and god knows

they are down. I just have to perfect my art so others believe in it as much as I do

and I recommend everyone else to do that. Never let failure determine or define

who you are. I have been through two blogs, I have quit before for months on end

but when you dream of something don’t quit. Everything in life takes time and

determination but if you don’t believe me look at the history of all the great athletes,

artists and historical leaders. Just keep dreaming, believing and eventually

everything will click into place.

Dear South Asian Parents.

Dear South Asian Parents,

We love you immensely and respect all you have done for us. There are times we sit back and think how we would be unable to do the things you do every day, there is something you should know about us. Times have changed and compared to how you grew up, we are living in a different world. Males and females can be friends, women can get the same jobs as men. We want you guys to understand this about us. We do not want our actions to be overshadowed by what society will say or what people around us have accomplished. We have become a household of order and structure that we often forget that we are a family. We want you to ask about things besides school and work. Ask us about our day, what new movies are out, or what we have planned for the weekend. We want you to be our friends and take interest in our lives so we don’t make mistakes like Anjali. Often we pass by each other but do not have much to say which is starting to create a wall between our relationship. We all make mistakes but in this time and age some unfortunate mistakes in your eyes may be drinking, smoking, and dating. We want to have a frank relationship with you but if we feel like you are going to react and get upset with us, chances are we will back off and not say anything even when we need you. Maybe our major in college is not what you want or maybe we are in love but can’t tell you. We really do love you but we as kids are stuck in a parallel with our modern lives while trying to relate to your customs. The fact of the matter is the only consistent thing about life is change. Now we as kids have to be calmer and really understand that we are from two different worlds, and we want you to do this as well. Now that you know our side we want to know yours.

Anjali & Trust Issues.

My heart was racing because I was drunk and the walk from the car to the door felt like a mile long. It seemed like an eternity to unlock my door and the entire time I was reminding myself to “act natural”. My make-up was smeared, I did not change out of my short dress and by the time I closed the door behind me I saw my parents sitting down and trying to find a daughter in me. They demanded me to come sit in front of them. I knew if I walked to them they would be able to smell the alcohol from my breath and my slurred words would give it away. I took a moment then started walking to them with the help of the walls and furniture around me. By the time I took a seat I saw them get angrier and scream, “Are you drunk!?” I denied it, I swore to them but my mom leaned in and smelled it on me. Just by the look on her face I knew I was in a lot of trouble. I thought at the time it would be great to lighten up the mood by telling them a joke I heard. I looked straight at my dad and said, a sandwich went into a bar and the bartender said, “Sorry we don’t serve food here”. I got no reaction but due to my intoxication I laughed really hard. My dad ordered my mom to take me upstairs and get me in bed; we will deal with her tomorrow.

My mother pulled my arm and dragged me up the flight of stairs. She gave me my bedtime clothes and put some water by my bedside table. I thought I was dreaming about throwing up but when I woke up I realized my clothes, bed, and floor were covered in it. By this point my mom had to clean it because I was way to hung-over to even help. I was called downstairs to have breakfast with the family but I knew I was due for a lecture. I walked to the breakfast table and before I had even sat down he demanded my phone and told me no more friends and no more going anywhere without our supervision. I just nodded my head and slid my phone to him and quietly went to my room with my breakfast.

I still had graduation and senior week ahead of me. My parents basically had me on house arrest, checking my phone every time it would buzz, going through my closet to make sure I was not hiding anything, and kept a close eye on my actions. I thought if I kept my good behavior up everything would be fine. Boy oh boy was I wrong about that thought process. They just needed a reason to bring up prom night and even with my 500 apologies they just did not want to even talk to me. I was reminded constantly of how much of a shame I was to the family name and how I can never be trusted.

Graduation day was bitter sweet. I thought to myself this is it, the 4 years of high school are over and senior week was going to be my only way to see my friends. After walking the stage my dad told me I would have 15 minutes to talk to my friends and I had no choice because I was not going to fight back. I knew senior week would not happen. I knew my parents were on the zero tolerance policy but the worst part was how they overshadowed my accomplishments over the past four years. I earned scholarships but it was overlooked because they were still comparing me to girls they thought had good image although everyone knew they sneak out every weekend and do the things I once did.

I heard my name being called and I got up to retrieve my diploma. The entire time I was walking back to my seat I thought how I would have never handled the situation like my parents did. Unlike them, I understand the impulses teenagers have. The social environment and curiosity leads them to experiment with things that their parents might not be proud of. I knew in my college career I would drink again, but the worst part was that I couldn’t tell them anything anymore.

Anjali is not a real girl, everything was made up and fictional but being a South Asian teenager is difficult. We have to balance two worlds between friends and family but that often gets overlooked. I have decided to stop the story here but next week I will have a message to the parents.