A little bud died...

Broken relationships come back again and again to haunt me. I keep trying to build fragile relationships; fragile and sure to be broken soon.

All relationships need nurturing, especially when they first start to come out of the bud. Both people involved have to take good care, like you take care of an infant. Cater to all the whims and fancies, do silly things to humour it, lavish all kinds of gestures and emotions, and pamper it so that it slowly grows into a strong and independent entity. Then you can let it take care of itself. Sometimes I wish for a relationship to develop out of a seed that is too dry. I bury it in rich soil, water it carefully, and pray and hope. Eventually a little shoot emerges, frail and unsure. In my joy at seeing it, I have forgotten that it cannot survive with my efforts alone. The other person too has to look after it. Right now I am blind to everything except for that budding bond. I continue with all my labours, often changing my very nature in the trial. All the while it gets harder and harder to keep it alive and healthy. It takes more and more of my energy and slowly drains all my emotional strength. But I plod blindly on. I fool myself into believing that very soon the other person will realise the true worth of this relationship and start with their part of the job. It never happens.

And one day, I see. I see that I had been living an illusion. There was no budding relationship. I was watering and nurturing barren sand. I was just imagining that the other person would soon be part of my life. They were nowhere near my world. But strangely it does not matter any more. I suddenly don’t care.

Some relationships are more demanding than others. Some people are more demanding than others. I guess my demands were too much for the other person to meet. So it did not work.

I think I’ll take up gardening. It does not involve two people.