You need to be a little too less.
I’m a ‘little too much’ woman. My mom had been one and I guess this comes from the upbringing and the words she has passed on to me. I care a little too much. I love a little too much. My hatred is at the level a little too much. Life, in me too much. Despair, too much. Joy, curiosity, grief, it all too much. But one that I could never do is be inclined to somebody a little too much if I’m not getting it back.
Yes, giving is not about getting it all back. The other person might not even notice your attempts. It’s human. But then, if I’m to give it my all, I’m expecting. It’s human.
I met him through The Constant. In the days that I spent with him, I realized that he was just all that I wanted. I’ve had relationships and I had overcome them when I knew I had to. But he was a feeling I couldn’t gulp in; I already was filled. He was a love that consumed me. Yes, he was a little too much and I might not ever forget this phase of my life as I’ve never had this much. The last time I recall sitting here when I had been the happiest the most, I see myself laughing endlessly for his fingers wouldn’t stop tickling me. I see myself standing in the Baga beach, Goa, drunk and dizzy, demanding him to come along to the waves.
“Only 5mins! Come. Why won’t one like beaches!”
“I’ve lived near beaches ever since I was born; had enough to enjoy more.” He laughed at my hopping feet.
“It’s fun drinking here when you have got a group along.” He said later in the night, seeing a group of friends dancing on the Karaoke.
“To me, you’re my group. It’s fun everywhere there.” I told him never taking my eyes off him.
The saddest is our arguments about me expecting too much than life can give us.
“You never have enough. No matter what I do, whatever I do. It never be enough for you.”
“I don’t know what I want.” I just don’t. It couldn’t be any sadder.
“Why not live in the moment? Why think of all the bad that’s now gone or is still to come?”
‘I don’t wish to build a life on trembling bridges which is to crash down soon a day.’ If my tears had a voice. Is it just me?
That day I got familiar with the fact that it was perhaps me who was expecting a little too much than life could spare us. I’m wishing for things that faith has denied to release and destiny forbids to even flash.
That day I had accepted it.
I must be a little less. To have it hurt a little less. To be happy a little less so I expect a little less.
And believe me, if you do wish to believe me, it makes it better.
Today, I know I’m capable of making decisions without thinking of what and who might be affected. I might do and be what I wish for. It’s me that I live for. It’s me that I care for a little too much. I might never see a home in a living person, but I know now that it can never be strong enough to hold the thunders of my a-little-too-much-winds. I might never try to burst the bubbles of hope inside me when I create a bond with somebody, but I know now that it can never be tender enough to hold the consequences of my a-little-too-much-sparkle.
And it’s better this way.
To all those women reading, who are a little too much..
Be proud of being capable of having yourself. To be a little too much and yet have no grief built from it. It’s okay to want something and it’s okay to not get them. It’s okay to choose what you want to be.
The world is a little too less for the little too much you; it isn’t cowardness, it’s rightful. Being too much or being too less. Feel it to be rightful.
Know that you’re capable of changes too, around and in.
Know that you’re capable of loving yourself too, a little too much.
To the man I loved a little too much and who taught me to be a little too less,
I shall always and always love you. Not too much and never too less.
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