Nostalgia is a dangerous thing. It almost always never makes you feel good. It also gives a slightly rosier tint to the past, the past which hurt you like pins and needles or the Spanish Inquisition or ... okay, I am assuming you have gotten the point by now.
Almost seven years ago I decided that I was going to love and marry a particular person. Nothing much came of it. Almost an year after that we decided that to be together was not the thing. At least he did. Now, he has gotten married, to another person. Life has come a full circle. It does not matter that even after breaking up we were still talking. About two years ago I decided that being friends with him was affecting me and him in different ways. He became more demanding of me, and I more supplicant. Then I told him to move on. Every time I mentioned this to him, his immediate questions would be "Do you like someone else? Are you not happy being friends with me? Do you want to get married? Have your parents found someone for you?". These questions would shut me up. Then he would be more demanding of my time, where it got to the point where I could not have a normal social life outside of waiting for him on Gmail Chat. Last year I decided enough was enough. I told him I have changed in ways that I could not communicate to him. My outlook on the institution of marriage had changed during my years of physical solitude, my attitude towards romantic relationships had taken a beating and I was generally very cynical about anyone who insisted that one human-being needed another. Again, his obvious question would be "Are you in a physical relationship with anyone?"
Now he is married. He is happily married and regularly sends me updates about his family life. He is in love with his wife and she with him. I had egged him on to make a move and get married. I agree I was being selfish. I wanted to get rid of his constant nagging of me for making small talk. When ever he felt lonely he would send a mail, or would call without even giving a thought to the impact it would have on me. And yet now, seven months hence, he is happily married.
Not for a moment do I begrudge his happiness. He deserves it. He is a nice guy. We just could not make it work. He was young, and so was I. Yet, I cannot help looking back whenever I get a mail. I don't yearn for him. But I do yearn for the time I was full of optimism and hope; for the time when I thought romantic love was all fulfilling and all enduring. I yearn to be foolish again; to be less pragmatic, to be less skeptical and be more indulgent of everyone else in the rosy glow of new love. Like I mentioned before, nostalgia is a very bad thing. It makes you sigh and wish for things which your rational brain knows is or was never good for you.
Yet, I am human, too.
