Yet love’s like a needle on a record, taking parts of you away as it draws sharply and constantly across the heart, in slow descending circles, just to hear a song hidden in the scratches one more time.
Hindi exam is in 4 days. Have written 7 compos in the past 5 days. Quite proud of myself for pushing despite having a whole lot of crap to hand in otherwise.
Planning to write 4-5 more in the next two days before Monday. And practise paper 1 of course…
Went for lunch today with a few friends and I was walking home with a close (is he close? I’m always afraid of labels because I fear they won’t be reciprocated) friend, talking about a couple we both know and I said something about how they met – “They just spent a lot of time together, that’s how it happened” and he replied with the most relevant statement to my life – “There’s a tipping point with this kind of stuff, some people go past it and some don’t”
There was this silence after that because I just didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. It seemed really really relevant to us as ‘more than friends’ or whatever we are/were/will be(?) because I realised that we’d never been over the tipping point ourselves, and this doesn’t seem very likely in the future either. In short, I felt kind of depressed and anxious because I don’t think I’ll ever cross the tipping point with anyone. It seems very unlike me, unlike anything I would ever do.
But the crux of the matter is that love shouldn’t have to feel like that. Love shouldn’t have to be anxiety-inducing. Love is simple, love is simple, love is simple.
Bittersweet, but then again, most things are.