When I was a teenager, whenever I used to get angry at my parents I used to say to them, “I am not living with you people, I am leaving home, I want to go away from all of you.” One day my father replied, smiling, “Once you leave home, you will not be able to come back again ever like me. I left home for job when I was young and I never got chance to live in my own house again.” My father was an emotionally strong person that time and he never said something like this before to us or to me. Therefore, I remember his words and also because it had touched my heart deeply. I remember his face while he was saying that to me and it was haunting me last night. Yesterday I understood why he was smiling that day even though I was mad at him. He knew I will understand his words someday. He knew it will be too late then. I understand it now when I am married and away from them. Last night was that day when I felt like running towards my family and fall into their arms but I couldn’t.
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I detach myself from those people who are capable enough to hurt my emotionally fragile heart and mind. Unfortunately currently the warning signs are coming from my husband. The task is tough and challenging. Detachment is not always a bad thing to practice. Detachment for me is accepting the things as they are and understanding that you don’t own the person you love. Just love his/her free soul. Detachment is not expecting anyone, especially the person whom you love, to play your game and following the rules made by you only.
More I try to practice detachment on my husband to make both our life happy and easy more I fail miserably. It just doesn’t go away. My emotional disk save everything and burst open as soon as the bottle of frustration gets full. It is bringing out the worst from me. If I am heading towards detachment or building walls of indifference around me I am not sure. The worst part is because I am reading spiritual books these days’ people expect me to change overnight. Then jailers would have given spiritual books to all the prisoners and they all would have become saint and there would have been no need of constitution and laws to punish them.
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I don’t see love in his eyes. I smell fear. Fear of my reaction, my tears and my articles. Love is replaced by duty of playing the role of an obedient husband. I very well understand the sarcasm behind “Ok, Baby”! I wanted to write what had happened but changed my mind. If someone doesn’t understand my tears and silence then he will not understand my words also. One positive outcome is my tears are making him laugh. At least I gave him one reason to laugh.
I will be with him always but I am letting him go …