The first thought that crosses my mind as I look at the title of this blog post is – why? Why am I even writing this? But as I calm down and let the words flow through the tips of my fingers, I realize that this has always been how I function. Whenever my world stops making sense I run into the safe embrace of writing. Because this is the only place where I feel sheltered, the only place where I am invincible. No matter how badly this world might break me I am convinced that I can put myself back again, one word at a time.
The second thought that comes into my mind as I gulp down the last bit of tea is that this is my favourite time of the year. It always has been ever since I was a child. My mother always told me to write letters to Santa Claus because he would be there on Christmas, exactly when the clock struck midnight, carrying the presents I had requested. But apparently with every passing year I began to ask for things that Santa Claus couldn’t really bring me. Of course like every other kid in the world, I learned that Santa Claus was just our parents masquerading around, letting us believe in a little bit of magic until we learned how truly bleak this world is.
When we were kids, my siblings and I would decorate the Christmas tree, would eagerly put out the socks and wait for morning to break. When we realized it was just our parents giving us presents – we started giving them presents too all under the guise of Santa Claus. It was fun while it lasted. We are too old for the Santa Claus charade to go on, but we still go on with it.
You know I am beginning to realize that learning to love again is a lot like believing in Santa Claus. You can be sure that sometime you’re going to get your heart broken, and sometimes there will be some ugly fights but that doesn’t mean you’re going to shut your heart away from all of it. When we get hurt our first instinct is to swear that this will never happen again. I am not an exception. Despite the fact I encourage my friends to fall in love, I assure them that I will catch them if they fall and writing them letters about how they need to realize they deserve love, I sometimes forget that I need to hear those words as well.
It’s not like I don’t. I have friends constantly encouraging me to break out of my shell, to try new things. Friends who tell me, over and over that you shouldn’t judge everything in your life based on that one bad incident that has shaken you to the core. While I do find it difficult to learn to love again, I don’t think it’s impossible. Because in spite of all our differences, love is the one thing that will still bring us together.
Love works in mysterious ways. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Maybe initially you’re annoyed by the presence. And you fight your feelings, and you rant and rave, and you yell about how this is not how you thought your life was going to turn out to be. Yet at the same time you cannot ignore the determined little voice that whispers to you, Come on. You can learn to love again…