Possibly.. Maybe

“I’m on the outside of love, always under or above..

Can’t find my way in, I try again and again..”

Streaming into my conscience through my earphones, while I sat on a park bench all alone, one cold February evening, pondering the great, unanswerable question of my life. For as long as I could remember, I had been a hopeless, won’t-learn-from-the train-wrecks-that-have-been-my-relationships romantic. I still remember, even when I was a kid, barely able to understand what all those movie stars were singing about, I had wanted to be able to own those songs, own them by being them. And, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t like some candy flossed doof who doesn’t want to face the harsh reality. No! I faced it alright. But, every time reality hit me in the crotch with that killer free kick, I sucked it up, and moved on in my quest for the great love of my life. The greatest love of my time. The love that would sweep all my fears and doubts away, that would take away all the years of yearning, and nights of hopeless despair when it seemed like it would never happen for me. That this was just a dream, and that I was just refusing to wake the eff up!

You know, it’s really funny, coz I’m a hardcore cynic when it comes to almost every other thing in my life. In fact, even when it comes to love, I am sort of a cynic. But, I guess, behind all those malicious, snide comments I pass on love and what a royal pile o crap that is, there is a little part of me that always believes. That believes that no matter how many times I fail, there will be a time when I will NOT. And that that ONE time will make it all worth it.

But not that evening. Not at that one moment when all of universe seemed to have conspired against me, in one brutal, macabre act put together for the sole purpose of breaking me in a way that would leave me beyond all repair. I sat there, my heart ripped out, my faith numb, my whole life flashing before me, a life based on a fool’s hope. Broken bits of songs, shards of tunes I used to know, all lashing out at me in a desperate attempt at vengeance against the fall that I set them all up for. And me, just sitting there, taking all of it in, at least trying to, wondering how I got here. Wondering, how, all that I stood for abandoned me to a fate I had never thought I would need to reconcile with.

I just sat there in the winter night, in the mist, wondering what I did wrong. I never would have looked up if it hadn’t been for the bright blue of that umbrella. At first, I thought I was mistaken, for that park was mostly deserted in the winter time, especially in the nights. But, sure enough, there it was, a bright blue speck, in a very grey montage. I kept looking, as if fixated. As it came closer, I discerned 2 hunched over shapes. It was an old couple, out for their customary evening walk. The gentleman was walking with the aid of a stick, and the lady had her arms around his waist. They were talking about something; I couldn’t hear exactly what, in an extremely animated tone. The lady’s eyes were alight with pleasure.

They passed the bench that I was sitting on, still talking, but also, staring at me very intently. That made me a little conscious. Conscious and aware of the twin streams running down my face.

But, before you get out the “whaaaaaaaatttttt???? Are u kidding me??” bayonets, let me clarify. I wasn’t crying because I was sad, not even  coz I was moved, but for the simple reason that for the first time in my life, I had seen one of my beliefs take physical form and literally walk in front of me!

The fact that something as true and ageless as that can and does exist, even if it doesn’t for me, is enough for me to live on. The fact that there are people out there, irrespective of gender or for that matter, sexual orientation, who walk side by side in the autumn of their days, drawing strength and comfort from each other, that a life like that is not just the stuff that old, sepia toned movies are made up of, is enough for me. Because, that right here, is proof, that I haven’t been a fool all along, that I’m not the only one who doesn’t know the inside joke that life is pulling on all of us, that it’s not just me. And, that my whole life is not based on a lie. This is proof that “love”, as I had always dreamed of it, existed. Maybe not for me, maybe never for me. But, that doesn’t matter now.

In that one moment, all that matters is that there’s a couple out there somewhere, walking under a shared blue umbrella in a deserted park, on a cold, grey evening, holding hands, their eyes alight with the joy of all that’s been and all that still awaits them. All that matters is that that picture, right there, is TRUE and whole and untarnished.

And, I can live with that.