She thought she was over all this nonsense. She thought she was now a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a savior. She thought love was not for her. She thought she was done with all the emotional drama. She believed no knight-in-shining-armour would come riding a white horse to save her from the clutches of the fire-breathing dragon that was her life. She’d started taking things into her own hands and began living and loving her life to the fullest, on her own terms. People called her crazy. People said she was mad. People said she had changed for the worse. But she didn’t care. She had her freedom. And she was enjoying every bit of it. She was alive! Finally! 🙂 🙂
And then he came along. Not on a white horse. Not wearing a shining armour. In fact, there was nothing dramatic about the way he swooped into her life. A casual meet, small talk and immediately she realised she hated his guts. She hated his way with words. She hated how he brought about the worst in her. She decided she was going to stay as far from him as possible.
But life had other plans for her. More meetings.. more coffees – she started to grow more comfortable with him – began hating him lesser and lesser each day. Gradually, and unknowingly, the hatred changed its shades. From the shades of a deep dark angry purple, it went on to soothing shades of the palest pink. The color she liked.
And then it dawned on her. She was slipping.. slipping slowly into his embrace. And oddly, she relished it. He was not perfect. He was everything she didn’t want in a guy. And yet.. the lure was so powerful. He tugged at her heart in the strangest of ways.
She realised there was no more running away. No more denying the truth. Somewhere along the road, in between detesting his guts and grudgingly admiring his honesty, she realised she had started liking him. Liking his company. What irked her earlier, those annoying guts of his, now seemed to bewitch her. She began to adore his honesty and no-nonsense attitude. That he didn’t ask one word about her past made her even more comfortable with him. Here was a person with whom she could be herself. No judgements attached.
She was in doubt. What was this she was feeling for him? This can not be love. She has been in love before. She has felt those butterflies in her tummy, been bewitched by the mere presence of the guy she thought was the one. Now, with him around, it is different. She can’t feel any butterflies. All she can feel is a sense of calm, a tranquility that her heart has never felt before, and at the same time, a euphoria she has never experienced earlier. He was her oxymoron. He brought out the best in her, and the worst.
After days of brooding, she has finally made up her mind. Love, she concluded, is not about butterflies fluttering by. It is the sense of being at home with a person. And she also realised something even more shocking. She managed to do the one thing she swore not to.. Fall in love.. with him, her oxymoron! 🙂