Friday, February 6, 2015


I fell in love with his mind. He was so articulate and intelligent. He could discourse for hours on end on abstruse subjects, imbuing them with elegant loquacity. His sense of language was capacious and neophyte that i was, i succumbed in complicity. I was young, in thrall of words, impressible, impressed by erudition and esoterica. And that's when the spell began.

Though the nascent spell, precipitated by importunity contained seeds of its own disillusion. I certainly don't delude myself with explanations of ingenuousness. Where i evinced fallibility was when i wilfully repressed intimations of disquiet. Or perhaps even that process  was  involuntary. Even where i  seemed to act by choice i relinquished choice. Something larger than me decided to make its own inexorable choices and i was but a helpless conduit and pivot. This large force was my history, my foundational beginnings which left an imprint of which i remained unaware because it predated me. But its insidious machinations continued to exert an immutable  hold.

Years of therapy have led to this insight as also an interested immersion in the literature of psychoanalysis. While i was with him i experienced deep anxiety. It was both existential and neurotic. I was willing to hold on to the vestiges or remnants of my self regardless of the further indentations he wrought into them. He became a facsimile but a requisite one. On the other side, unbeknownst to me, lay an abyss. It beckoned enticingly. This was also a period in my life when i was self harming regularly. As far as he was concerned he was unequivocally himself. His demonstration of erudition was meretricious because it didn't translate into self awareness. His expostulations were forms of outmanouevring my misgivings. He desired to keep me in a pliable state of quiescence and i colluded because of my own insecurities.

When with him i inhabited a wintry, leafless landscape of painful associations. He, connoisseur of masochism, was incapable of making me happy. And my own misery, self induced yet beyond the self, compounded the attrition of our precarious togetherness. Accretions of self doubt and repugnance confounded me because i was unaccustomed to such virulence. Part of my vituperation was self directed and the other was a protest, albeit wordless, against him who exacerbated the tumult of my predicament.

He never struck me or abused me. However sex was painful and traumatic because the withdrawal of my inner being negated the putative acquiescence of my body. It seems anomalous, on reflection that i didn't listen to my body. But a neurotic apprehending of my foundational chaos was insufficient in obviating my neurotic delight in seeking a prolongation of my condition. The two impulses were immanent, coexisting. I desired flight while seeking to be pinioned. I was both the captive and the captor .

But he wasn't going to be patient with a protracted incompatibility only ineffectually concealed by a tenuous bond. A slight misdemeanour  on my part, totally unintended, resulted in a fusillade of invectives from him, delivered in cold, hard tones of anger and contempt. External conditions rendered our breach irreversible. And i've spent the interlude of five years since alternating between a crippling depression and a valedictory yearning to reestablish an irrecoverable propinquity, however makeshift.

But i do intend to get him back one day. 

Thursday, February 5, 2015


He was rather unremarkable, at least by outward logic. Nor was i impressible enough to misconstrue a deceptive exterior as hints of inner charm. At any rate such was my sense of my thought process. But imperceptibly, in subsequent conversation with him, on witnessing his solecisms which hinted at a certain sincerity, i yielded. I am certainly not complacent about this gesture on my part. It implies a trust which should be bestowed thoughtfully, after great deliberation. But i do have a tendency to rush headlong into insalubrious spaces which eventually leave a void which consecutively i repair by replicating the same precipitant urge that gave me pain.
He seemed agreeable. Amid his animadversions i sensed a putative detestation of anything staid. I did not judge him for this though a protracted courtship was what i sought with my leap of faith. He was not, as i alluded earlier handsome enough. There was, in the irregular delineation of his lineaments, irregular as much in their countenance as anything else, an asymmetry between an ostensible kindness and a latent cruelty. All this was of course the reconstruction of hindsight. Besotted as i was, i discerned probity where there was none.
Such was my prevarication and it doesn't do me any credit to confirm that my awareness of his cruelty was not unconscious. The leap of faith was conscious, exercised under a cognizant jurisdiction of alternating dissimulation and disquiet. Circumstances propelled me and these pertained to my inner life. Restlessness had beseiged me after my previous rendezvous. I had sought propinquity with a similar importunity and been repulsed with insuperable antipathy. So my proclivity of regression was familiar to me. What was unfamiliar was my stasis. And in that inertia my subsequent spiritous inanition.
As my needy overtures escalated into fractious admonitions his own petulance redoubled. I was unsubtle in my ministrations and the carapace of concern whose chimerical nature he undoubtedly divined did me no good. Yet i will say,in retrospect that i acted out of love. My self reproaches were fruitless not because they yielded an abyss i plunged into but simply because they left unaccounted the impulses of the heart. It might seem incongruous to attest love in a state which indubitably appears solipsistic but a concern nonetheless irradiated me. I discerned in his well being the accoutrements of my own sanity. In that while his prepossessions prevailed i could inhabit a state of sanguine well being. But they were short lived.
Love is a nebulousness that is unknowable. Perhaps my voracity scared him and he acted out of self preservation. His self commendations rendered our breach irrevocable. It is likely that with my own hunger for him was a desire to possess him and his withdrawal was sagacious. And my constructions as to his motivations equally fallacious. The possibilities are mushrooming and a vertiginous chasm unravels before me. Yet i asseverate with irrefutable certitude, that i acted out of love.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015


When he departed unceremoniously, with repugnance writ large in his mien i surrendered all self control. Such containment in tranquillity, illusory as it had always been, was relievedly forsaken. All the pent up feelings and misgivings, repressed for years due to exigency, were, with the accompaniment of profuse, copious tears, let loose . A good cry is always cathartic and i was expiating my own ingenuousness with this deluge.
I had dissembled impeccably with him. I am not proud of it. Unwilling to forego even the exiguity of love he proffered so stintingly i was forced to, or rather forced myself to ,put up a carapace of amiability. Clearly the need was more mine than his. He could have terminated our relationship whenever he wanted but perhaps beguiled by my patina of pliability, which augmented his self regard, he continued with the relationship. I don't wish to apportion blame but neither do i desire a submergence in self recrimination. It wasn't entirely my fault and knowing that helps me tremendously.
It is curious as to how elastic behaviour is and how it moulds itself subjectively ,in accordance to the interlocutor we engage with. Some camouflages are expedient, some manipulative and some necessary. Somewhere the three intersect and blur. Superimposed over these is a human agent whose demonstration of this continuum of behaviour, imbued with subjectivity, is mediated by a variegation of factors such as self awareness, self deception, prevarication, clarity etc.
Ironically my own dissimulation ,though sagacious, was not unwitnessed by me. Possessed of uncanny self awareness ,which i cultivated as a teenager, i self excoriated at every point in time. Never did i sacrifice self knowledge for a wilful negation of the unsavoury. Being practicable and self knowing i judged myself incessantly. And my interminable self revilings, conducted in solitude conferred only a desiccated sense of recompense. External reality remained unalterable and my inward expostulations were, in this regard, fruitless and self indulgent.
An attribution of guile or calculation which, believe me, i attributed to myself, was unavoidable. I exculpated myself with the inevitability of my psychic framework. The vignettes and pantomimes of seduction and withdrawal i enacted for his sake were but the effluvium of convoluted inner processes i could neither wholly plumb or entirely escape. I got intimations of this inwardness and it was sufficient to disconcert me. But such disquiet, which could have precipitated an action conducive to my healthy emotional being was repudiated by the imp of perverseness in me which sought self destruction ceaselessly.
But i finally made the choice or the choice was made for me when he left thus. Whether he penetrated my ambivalence or decided to move on remains indeterminate. I could entreat, cajole, grovel, supplicate and beg him to come back. Maybe he would or won't. But i'm tired of my vacillating sense of self, as it oscillates between self congratulation and self abasement. I need an interlude of peace to sort myself out.