The words hit me like a blow. "I would give my all for love. Now, I don't want to try anymore. Because, I don't think I can go through the depression again."
I felt a stinging pain. A woman, who fought society, family, spouse, daughter and to an extent, herself showed steely resolve in coming back strong and motivated enough, gaining the trust of her little one and rebuilding her life from scratch.
I fail to understand what I feel more. I have always had an enormous amount of respect for her right from the time I met her first, almost 4 years ago. I knew later of the tough times she apparently had to undergo and my respect for her only grew.
Each time I met her, I learnt more. About her, about life, about resolve, determination, focus and liberty. My respect for her now included a healthy dose of admiration. Her thoughts on enriching children's lives at the school were uncannily similar to what I would have loved to do. Maybe that's the reason why I felt concerned.
My last meeting with her was a revelation. She had been sick for over a couple of weeks and when I saw her, I had two thoughts running parallel in my mind. One was that of joy, the sense of seeing a friend after a while. The second, was inexplicably of sorrow. I had never seen her so weak. But she always carried herself with grace.
I could only blurt out how bad I felt seeing her weak and she just brushed it off. An hour and a half of interaction and my mind transformed. As we shared our personal stories, her determination and our kids, I could sense myself feeling aggrieved.
Such a wonderful person, an amazing woman, who yearned only for love and acceptance, had lived a decade on her own with no one by her side. So much similarity in between us - love for art, passion for cars, life in general, minimal expectations, indifferent yet needy spouses. And when she said "I don't want to try again. I don't think I can go through another depression", it stung me so much that it hurt. It still hurts.
I can understand her avoidance and distrust of men. I feel ashamed.
If such a woman can't find love, then is there love at all?
I felt a stinging pain. A woman, who fought society, family, spouse, daughter and to an extent, herself showed steely resolve in coming back strong and motivated enough, gaining the trust of her little one and rebuilding her life from scratch.
I fail to understand what I feel more. I have always had an enormous amount of respect for her right from the time I met her first, almost 4 years ago. I knew later of the tough times she apparently had to undergo and my respect for her only grew.
Each time I met her, I learnt more. About her, about life, about resolve, determination, focus and liberty. My respect for her now included a healthy dose of admiration. Her thoughts on enriching children's lives at the school were uncannily similar to what I would have loved to do. Maybe that's the reason why I felt concerned.
My last meeting with her was a revelation. She had been sick for over a couple of weeks and when I saw her, I had two thoughts running parallel in my mind. One was that of joy, the sense of seeing a friend after a while. The second, was inexplicably of sorrow. I had never seen her so weak. But she always carried herself with grace.
I could only blurt out how bad I felt seeing her weak and she just brushed it off. An hour and a half of interaction and my mind transformed. As we shared our personal stories, her determination and our kids, I could sense myself feeling aggrieved.
Such a wonderful person, an amazing woman, who yearned only for love and acceptance, had lived a decade on her own with no one by her side. So much similarity in between us - love for art, passion for cars, life in general, minimal expectations, indifferent yet needy spouses. And when she said "I don't want to try again. I don't think I can go through another depression", it stung me so much that it hurt. It still hurts.
I can understand her avoidance and distrust of men. I feel ashamed.
If such a woman can't find love, then is there love at all?
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