Nobody changes us. We ourselves conform. But there comes a time in our lives when we know who we are is who we want to be, if not forever, then only for that moment and for the billion moments that make one complete phase of our life. So we don’t change because after so long our souls have found home.
And through the windows of this new home, we now look at our life and the lives around us, and see that fear and expectations can write off the person we’ve held so dearly. We see that we’re same yet different. We love enough to see the similarities, and yet the lone difference pours down upon us heavily.
Even so love endures. Love is the way through which we exist in each other’s lives, in our sometimes parallel minds.
Love brings parallels together and interweaves them till your head spins figuring out where you begin and where I end. And then, love lays us bare with our psyche, our follies and our fragile heart out in the open. What a mortifying experience it is to let the other person unwrap all this.
We hope to be accepted as we are, and if acceptance is found, so too is happiness – that elusive, subtle demand of the heart. And if acceptance is missing, we hope to get out of it in one piece.
But whenever love touches us, our pieces are never the same again. Nobody changes us, but something shifts in the way we function in this world.
Yes, we don’t echo each other. But we share a love that manages to find the still water in us on which it opts to reflect.
And great happiness is found in knowing that our fingers still interlock when we hold hands; that although our heads are elicited by different matters now, our habits of endearment remain the same; that although our thoughts have been revised and altered, the music our souls compose still has the same lyric, and that although the lone difference doesn’t mince its words, our shared love insulates our hearts.
Our shared love is oneness expressed through duality. Because we’re two, we’re one.