If you don’t love me back, at least don’t die.
May be I don’t care about a second date, but a closure would be nice.
Have you ever gone on a date with someone, and they don’t text you after?
It’s super awkward, no?
Going on an arranged marriage date ain’t too trivial. You have to follow this elaborate recipe before you can devour a date (or the other way round):
Identify a suitable dating app or a matrimonial website to put yourself out on
Fill out registration forms that resemble slam books from high school. No, it’s much worse, because it’s objective type questions and you can only pick one out of the 15 random hobbies listed. I mean, what would I do if my mum hadn’t invested in a philately club membership when I was 6?
Send and accept (and decline) expressions of interests
Muster the will to live through yet another conversation that starts off with the expectation of ending in a marriage
Handhold the conversation till it results in a face-face meeting
… and then you have a date.
After you’ve gone through so much, you have to pretend like it’s not abnormal to meet an absolute stranger from the internet who could potentially live in your pants for the rest of your life, even if he doesn’t split the check with you.
While he may not have rocked your boat, you still want to tell him “It was nice to meet you”. But guess what he does?
HE DIES ON YOU.
(a story a friend once told me)
This date was arranged by his mother. His mother called mine. I reluctantly agreed to chat with him, let alone meet him. No, don’t get me wrong. There was nothing wrong with him. He was a decent chap who checked every single box (I think) but I wasn’t myself anymore.
I am a smart, independent and kind girl who has worked her way up to success but every time I texted him, I felt like an imposter. Going on a date with him only made it worse - he didn’t text me after our date.
I wanted to take control, just as I have in every other part of my life. I texted him to say I had a nice time, but he never replied. What’s worse is that he needed his mother to tell me that. That too, through my mother.
If I ever meet him again, I want to say…
“It’s okay if you didn’t love me back, but don’t die on me. It’s us against the market, so we can at least be kind to each other. We don’t have to pretend to go through a rough break-up even before we start dating.
If you need to ditch, just ditch. Don’t call your mother, and don’t have her call mine.
I’ve only ever made my parents proud. But right now, it’s not me. It’s timing. Someday, I’ll meet someone, whose hands will meet mine. I know that. My parents know that too. But don’t let me and my parents doubt that, over and over again.”
(another day, another story)
The first time a boy kissed me, I was freaking out like crazy for having lost my kiss-ginity. I can’t remember if I was scared or relieved or just plain excited, but I wanted to discuss the shit out of that experience with the boy who had kissed me. But he neither texted nor called.
I don’t know if I was expecting him to call me because he was the one who initiated the kiss? Or maybe the rom-com hogwash made me believe that the boy had to text/ call first. I don’t know what he felt, but I was a little bit hurt for his hands didn’t meet mine that were eager to shake his.
I thought I was in love, because it hurt.
For people who are in relationships, we take our sense of security for granted. For those who are yet to find stable relationships, their sense of security hangs like a trapeze, latching tightly onto every new person they get themselves acquainted with. But once they’ve clocked hundreds of hours of practice, they are good. They can take care of themselves.
Sigh.
I wish, along with math, science and history, we also learnt to communicate in school. We’ve grown up leaving people hanging, and not even taking notice. We’ve grown up not acknowledging the need for closures. We’ve grown up not knowing how to just say thank you, when nothing more’s needed. Yet, we say a lot when we don’t need to.
Fin.
P.S. As I narrate stories, some mine, some not, I can’t help but feel more jaded by the day. I thought being a part of peoples’ relationship journeys would make me fall in love, over and over again, but some days are much worse than the others. But as I’ve said before, it ain’t love if it doesn’t hurt - I am hoping all this hurting will result in a lot of love, someday.