The Same Mess, Twice

This one is personal, and it is for the few people who know me. Nobody else will read it anyway: I have been silent for half a year.

The same man made the same mess for the second time.

Twice now I have wrecked something that mattered because I lost myself in a passion. This happens to grown adults, I am told. In my case I made the decision knowingly. I let myself fall in love although the feeling in my stomach was saying, clearly and in good time, that this was the wrong moment for it.

Leave it. This is an illusion — a beautiful one, and worth something, and still an illusion.

After Dubai came months of walking around a foot above the ground. I pushed friends away. I could see nothing but the promise in front of me, in which everything I attempted would come out well.

I gave myself to it completely, and in the process nearly gave up the journey to Kailash.

A relationship does not work when one person hands over too much of himself. Not even when every single day of it is lovely.