I Love You…

Claus and I had made an unspoken vow to stick to each other till death. But the love between us was undeniable. Simply put, I was his person, he was my dog. I remember the days we played house. A happy house. I would wake up early in the morning to make him biscuits dipped in milk, his favorite.

Living in is tough. After a while familiarity breeds some level of contempt. That is what time does to love.  So, you conform back to your true self. Now Claus knows I am not a morning person. But he is. He wakes up, and enjoys his alone time. while I nap away until the sun comes up. nevertheless, it did not mean we loved each other less. It only meant we loved each other so much we were comfortable in our skins. We are not scared to be judged or perceived as human, flawed.

People lie a lot. The question why people lie will and has never been answered. Because of the frail nature of humans – to lie. We lie because maybe the truth embarrasses us, so we are afraid of being judged. We lie because our truth is not the other person’s truth, so we are afraid to lose them since apart from our definite infinite fear of dying, we fear being alone. Or rather without people. We would rather lie. A white lie. A plain lie. Or lie between our teeth.  

If we only knew how deep these three words are, we would not be so quick to confess it without understanding what love is to the other person or digging deeper into the kind of relationships they were exposed to growing up. Your idea of love might be a square while the other person’s a circle. Your love language could be words of affirmation and the other gifts. It is impossibly impossible to speak in distinguish languages and understand each other.

In the heart wrenching series Why Women Kill, the creator seeks to tell the untold stories of women who end up ‘killing.’ They do not kill because they are cold blood murderers. They end up killing because they lie and then tell another lie to cover the other lie. The cycle of lies grows longer and longer, entangles the two people in a relationship and the total stranger who is nosy enough to be involved in their business. The knots get tighter until one party suffocates. The collateral.

The recent rise of murders among couples and sometimes bewildered lovers could mean a rise in instability. But sometimes, the lies we tell tangle up so many innocent loves into a wrench of crimes of passions. Maybe if we told less lies. Maybe if we were patient enough to figure out our feelings, if it were lust or love, the script would change. But we would rather lie.