I’ve mentioned his death so many times in this blog. Writing this is my way of grieving and perhaps recording this for our baby for when he/she has questions. Since the whole blog is about G and my life with him, I want to give you a glimpse of us. Just because he is no more, i’m not going to gloss over things. We didn’t have a perfect relationship. We didn’t need a perfect relationship.We had a comfort that comes with 15 years of knowing someone inside out.
We loved, we hated, we fought, we partied, we cried, we cuddled, we cheated, we made up. We were opposites in every sense. If I hated something he was sure to love it – no need to even ask – and vice versa. We didn’t talk much, yet we had conversations. We had the same set of friends, but different equations with them. We were independent of each other yet completely dependent.
We were probably like a married couple much before we were actually married. I could read his face, he could read mine. We lied and got caught. We loved our families – I his, and he mine. We could start from the same place even after months of not speaking to each other. Our marriage was decided on a phone call that came after 8 months of silence.
He tended to orthodoxy in his opinions, I was fiercely modern. We adjusted, changed and moulded to fit each other. He was emotional, I was practical – and I think he loved me more than I loved him. Only because maybe I wasn’t capable of that kind of love. Or maybe he did know that I loved him more than anything – and I just didn’t know it. Maybe he showed his love and I didn’t. I don’t know. I can just wish now that I had got a chance to tell him that I loved him one last time.
We were workaholics – ambitious, stubborn and confident. We were going to conquer the world. We trusted each other’s decisions and abilities. We had it all, and we were going to get a lot more. Both of us had quit our jobs to pursue our dreams – of fame and fortune.
He was the relationship guy, outgoing, chatty, smart and good-looking. I was not so outgoing. Socializing was an effort for me. But since he made the relationships, I wasn’t ever called on to be an active participant. I could smile, grin and nod in the background that suited me just fine. We were good people, we tried to help where we could, felt bad where we couldn’t. I think the goodness stemmed from being together, from this sense of being privileged somehow.
He loved children, and wanted his own. I was averse to the idea and wanted to adopt instead. He was devout, I am an atheist. After this incident I do believe in fate, but still not in god. In fact when I saw him performing the religious ceremonies at our wedding I wondered for a moment if I had made a mistake. He knew everything! He could have been a priest.
I did things from a sense of duty, he did them from a sense of belonging. If he once decided that you were a friend or family, he’d do anything for you. Yet we invariably decided on the same thing – like having a baby.
There is so much to say, so much history. It’s impossible to bundle 15 years in 600 words. But i’ll keep writing – in other posts – and hope that I paint a realistic picture.