Author: Siya Arora
I’ve always found the idea of trying to get over or move on from someone very jarring, somewhat forceful.
Getting over someone feels like trying to push open a heavy door, like trying to make your essay meet the word requirement, like dragging yourself away from feeling something that every inch of your being wants to continue feeling.
And moving on feels like having to pick up all of your emotions and your love, stuff them in a bag and carry that heavy weight on your back as you slowly, painfully, walk away.
That’s probably why when it came to you, moving on didn’t feel right. Because how could something so uncomfortable come from something that was so easy, so effortless, so exhilarating? What felt right was to let myself feel, to let myself care. And as I let myself be, somehow, on a day that seemed like any other, I fell out of love. Yes, fell.
I didn’t think this was possible. I didn’t think I could reminisce the nights we spent together with a smile on my face, without needing to live them again. I didn’t think I could cherish the time I held your face in my hands as you asked me to stay, without needing you to need me again.
But that’s what falling out of love is. It lets you treasure what you hold dear, while you let go of the hurt that once came with. I thought falling in love was an experience like no other, but who knew falling out of it could be so beautiful? Its beauty lies in how it is exactly like falling; how it just happens, almost accidentally. And in happening so, it somehow sets you free.
