How I found my true love through anime
I hate summer. I cannot emphasize how greatly I loathe this sunny weather I have been stuck in for the past three months. And Indian summers is in a league of its own. The heat is horrible for my frizzy hair and my pimple-loving skin, not to mention the sweltering winds that rise straight from the deeps of hell. I would imagine a haughty, frat-boyish sun flirting with my shy, insecure flesh but instead of blushing at the generic compliments, the timid nerd breaks out like crazy. Did I mention that heat messes with the wiring in my head? Now, that my vehement emotions for this overrated season has been established, let’s get to the point.
Summers can be pretty lonely and I seemed to be suffering from this ailment the entire vacation, with no seemingly cure, thanks to my introverted, excuse-generating self. But one afternoon, things changed. My boyfriend, who sounded as irritated as me after listening to me whine about how bored I had been for fifteen minutes straight, recommended I watch some anime. “I don’t like cartoon.”, I groaned, awaiting another lecture about how every animated movie is not cartoon. “I don’t know, babe. You decide then.”, he huffed, clearly at the end of his patience. That spiked my irritation more. I mumbled something about cleaning my pot and cut the call instantly. He didn’t seem to counter my annoyance which only alleviated my annoyance. It was a usual thing. Every conversation with him left a bad taste in my mouth. Don’t get me wrong. He is a very nice guy, my best friend, adorably overweight and with a gifted roman nose. I swear you can slice ham with that perfection on his face. It is just that he makes a horrible boyfriend. Maybe, I make a horrible girlfriend too. We both have gotten out of a relationship recently. His was a serious, long term, probably-would-have-led-to-marriage kind while mine was stuck at are-we-there-or-maybe-not kind of thing. I never liked his ex, even though I never met her. She lived in a different city.
Maybe, love cannot handle distances.
She treated him like a frozen piece of pizza at the back of her fridge, heating him at month’s end when she had run out of money and dumping him right after paycheck day. He said he treated her no different. Well, there isn’t much you can do with a rusty, old car once the fuel runs out, except sell it for a few bucks. My ex-friend, lover, well-wisher, unlabeled person was a very nice too. He treated me well, stood by me on horror movie marathons nights and motivated me to reach for the stars. He was perfect as Ryan Reynold’s butt cheeks. But turns out, I was Kardashian’s silicone filled buttocks for him. I was an impediment to his growth because I needed him at a time when I was robbed off of my modesty and that interfered with his peace. Maybe, he was as scared as I was, or maybe he didn’t care from the start, I don’t know. I don’t hold a grudge anymore. Fake butts don’t last long in their feel, do they?
After a week long struggle with losing myself and my best friend all in three days, I can say I was a good, bad mess. My boyfriend who was always there in the background, with the departure of the “perfect” guy, shot instantly to the front row with VVIP tickets. He would comfort me, deal with my outbursts and hear me on hours end. At this point, the pizza had been wrapped in napkin and dumped in the neighbor’s bin. We were each other’s pills, amnesic painkillers. Now that we are done establishing that there are no villains in this story, we can talk about what happened next that afternoon. I, despite the better judgement I clearly possess, decided to try the cartoon he was so defensive about. I started with ‘A silent voice’. It was bloody brilliant. I cried a river. I watched it again. I felt a tingle in my spine.
At first I was unsure if it was a love story. Turns out, it was a love story with oneself, the battle to be content with what you are and who you evolve into. The next series shocked the Cheshire cat in me. I was on a high with the previous watch, which had exceeded my expectations unlike the apparent end to ‘Game of Thrones’. I haven’t watched it, and I might never do. Anyways, it was called ‘Scum’s wish’ and let me add, it was revolting, mind-blowing and boot-to-the-face-jerk-chicken-to-the-tongue kind of experience.
And it felt like looking into a mirror. It talked of loneliness we all are well-acquainted with, the desire to be loved by the person of your choice and the desperation of unrequited love. I was familiar with all of it. I know the urge to manipulate when met with a rejection, the need to hold on and give up completely simultaneously. I know it all. I thought of him, the one I had now. I wondered if we were each other’s replacements. I wondered if he compared me with her as I did him, so voluntarily. I wondered if the three words we tossed constantly, almost defensively, meant something. And I realized how sad the reality was. I realized the sugarcoated version of love I was feeding myself to drive away the frequent pangs of worthlessness and loneliness. No one talks about the empty feeling that appear at the fear of being alone, so much so that we throw ourselves into a mix, just to be in the company of someone. It really is sad. That night, I called him to ask him what he felt.
“It could be true, what you think, at the very beginning. Now, I know what it really is.”, he answered in his trademark monotonous tone. My heart sank. I was about to bring up cleaning the dirty, old pot to spare my heart the pain that was advancing, but he spoke again.
“It is love.”
“How can it be? There is no passion in your voice, no stupid nicknames, barely any calls and you never retaliate when I leave abruptly!”, I screamed, frustrated at his persistent indifference.
“Because that is love. It is boring. It is normal. What you talk about is infatuation. The fancy shit you see around you, that isn’t love. That guy who left you was infatuated by you, which made him change himself to your liking. He left because he couldn’t bear the mask any more. I apologize that I don’t feel that way for you. I have done that before, the things you want. I wasn’t half as comfortable as have been over the three months we have been together. I know you. I know how strong and resilient you are. I would ask you for one thing alone. If the fear of being alone forces you to be with me, try being alone with yourself. I’m not going anywhere, not until you fall in love with yourself. And the only reason I don’t stop you when you leave is because I know you would never go too far, out of my reach. Isn’t that right, baby?”, he chuckled softly. I could not fight the smile that broke through the frown on my face. He did make efforts. He lightly threatened the Uber driver every single time I rode alone like a good, protective boyfriend, force-fed me lunch and read all my silly poems, or pretended to at least. He did make efforts, not as loud, but loud still.
“Watashi wa anata suki desu”, I yawned into the phone. He gasps dramatically, humming in approval. The summer I was talking about before, seemed more bearable, despite the loneliness that lurked.
