Dear mister sweetheart,
I hope you find this letter before you make the mistake of falling in love with me. It’s for the best. After reading this letter, you can decide to leave or stay- the best would be to leave me alone and run away as fast as you can. The worst would be staying, and leaving after some time, after knowing who I really am.
The first thing that you must know about me is that I wasn’t always this way. I loved with a love that would even make Aphrodite blush. I believed in cupids and red roses and boxes of chocolate and the futility of Amortentia. But I don’t, anymore. I’ve seen the cruel side of love, I’ve seen how hearts break, and I’ve felt my share of cardialgia too. The version of love I believe in is something that you will not be able to offer me. I want love that will endure beyond all ages. Something that will make the mountains move. You cannot offer that to me, I am sure.
You’re probably thinking I’m a fool for expecting a love like this at such an early age. You may say that this kind of love doesn’t even exist in this whole wide world. But the heart wants what it wants, doesn’t it.
Second thing you must know about me: I love my blog much more than I will ever love you. And you mustn’t be jealous of the attention it receives on a daily basis. Believe me when I say this: There has been no one, apart from family, who has stayed by my side longer than the time my blog has stayed with me. You must know that I give my heart and soul to expressing my thoughts in words. I’ve worked hard to earn all the love and laurels I have in the blogging world. I just can’t let that go away from me. So the next time you ask me out on a date, and I refuse by saying that I’m busy, know that I’m probably proof-reading a blog post, or furiously typing down an idea that must be published to the world pronto. And if I don’t reply to your messages, just go check my Twitter, and have a conversation with me there. You don’t know how happy that will make me.
Thirdly. Wait. I’m surprised you managed to stick through the first two points. Congratulations. You may survive six months of dealing with me. This next point will determine whether you stay for the long haul.
When I truly and deeply love you, I will start pestering you like a woodpecker digging to find worms. I would want to know how you are feeling, what you’re thinking about, how your day was. I just want to know. Don’t ask me what I do with all this information. I just have this notion that if you truly love me back, you won’t mind telling me every little detail of your life, however boring it may be.
And if you’re ready to give me such commitment, I promise you these things: Honest love, complete attention, and support in your every endeavour (only legal ones, okay). If I love you, I will stay loyal to you. Of course, only till the day you’re loyal to me. I ain’t gonna pine in love for you, or die a thousand deaths thinking about you and your new lover.
Again, I wasn’t this way before. Things changed, and things changed me.
There are many more things that you must know. About me. But those things must be explored by you. I can’t tell you everything about the way I think, the way I behave, the reason why I laugh too loud and cry too silently, the story behind how I learnt to be a stronger woman. Only the worthy of heart and noble of mind would get a chance to experience this.
But. Just a second. Can you imagine living a life with a monster like me? Someone who wants your attention all the time, but needs her own space too? Someone whose mood swings are worse than pendulums? Someone who gets attached too easily, someone who’s world falls apart when someone walks out of her life?
Can you imagine being a part of my life, and still being sane?
I don’t think you will. So it’s best if you keep away from me, and let someone else who can handle me, hold me tight and whisper those three cursed words. And actually mean them.
P.S.: Please give me a dramatic licence for this day and know that this post is purely a work of fiction. I am in no way enjoying Valentine’s Day, but neither am I moping like Moaning Myrtle. I hope that reading this post inspires you to aspire for a love that endures, and not a temporary heart break.
P.P.S.: I had written this post two years ago and wanted to publish it this year on Valentine’s day. The earlier P.S. was also written two years ago.