In countless pre-marriage conversations with some intelligent friends, we came to the conclusion that if you are not happy with yourself inside, nothing can make you happy. Especially not that one person on whose poor soul the entire burden of your happiness lies. We decided then and there, in that hypothetical conversation, that our attempt in life would be to find the happiness, if that’s what the elusive butterly is, inside our own selves, by living our lives as we want to and then sharing them with the ones we love, for affirmation. Not by depending on them.
We, in our single clearheaded states, also knew with utmost surity that though magic exists, it’s hard work. That there is no such force which will magically hold together 2 people for eternity while differences, in-laws and life spring up all around them, threatening the balance.
Of course hypothetical promises and vows are easy to make and when life hits you in full swing and with curve balls, the exact words of those strong single-woman- statements get a little blurred and it’s easy to blame the significant other for the erosion of magic and love.
I’m learning these days. From people around me who let that magic go simply because they refused to acknowledge their own bit in the working of it. Young couples. Happy couples who smiled love-bhari smiles at each other on stage a couple of years ago. In-love couples who fought for the right to be able to spend their lives together. As k and I battle out our first year together, it helps to remember the initial time together, when the feeling was uncomplicated by the dailiness of details, and we try to remember that in the face of all we see taking place. And I realize how much thinking, feeling, understanding and accepting goes into the simple word: magic.