I Too Had A Love Story

# She died. I survived. Because I survived, I died everyday. #

# And I'll tell you what this loneliness is like, what it feels like to live a life without the person you loved more than anything or anyone else in the world. #

# Recalling something about her, you happen to laugh and in no time, sometimes even as you laugh, you taste your own tears. #

# At times, I felt like a drug addict who badly needs his next hit. But at least an addict has his drugs... I felt suffocated. As if something was stopping my breath. As if something was choking my soul. #

I've just finished reading Ravinder Singh's heartbreaking true love tale titled, "I too had a love story..." As the author mentions, not all love stories are meant to have a perfect ending. Some stay incomplete. Yet they are beautiful in their own way.

Given that one chance to narrate his love story, I'm sure that every one will have one of their own to tell. Love before marriage, or love within the process of marriage, or love after being married—people and places may change, but the phenomena is the same.

Again, if death stands for loss and separation, it's true not just for Ravin, but for every lover out there. I remember reading about a friend who once told "to love him less, but to love him long". It's always human nature to forgo the feelings once cherished fondly. 

Lost love is more, far more, powerful than accomplished love. Maybe the stinging pain in heart does all the work in soul!

When at the face of such a loss, some practical fellow may ask, "Why not think of another girl?".

Ravin too wonders thus.

# But, another girl? What would I tell her? That I spent the best hour of my life in the lap of a girl who is not you? That I may have married you but I'm still in love with a girl who doesn't exist? That whatever you do, every time I compare you with her, even when you kiss me? #

Finally Ravin reaches a conclusion: 

# "To think of another girl, I feel like a whore." #

When we look around, only rarely do we see such true love blossoming. True love is an action: a commitment for life. To retain the same intensity of spirit—be it in loving your parents, siblings, or life partner—demands a commitment. To stay same despite all odds demands an integrity of character.

Aren't we really lucky to be loved this much, considering the so little love that we share on with others? Aren't we selfish and insensitive in returning the same to others? Think.

Let love live long!

“I hold it true, whatever befall;

I feel it, when I sorrow most;

'Tis better to have loved and lost,

Than never to have loved at all.”

- Lord Alfred Tennyson