lalita larking

An obsession with cryptic crosswords. Everything else falls in place.

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Location: Kolkata, India

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

The Dear John Letter

A Dear John letter is the hardest thing to write, if you are a fair-minded person.

I want to avoid accusations while accusations are all that are swirling in my mind. I justify my decision when I just want out. I try to be reasonable when I want to rage. I say I bear no animosity when I bear grievances. I say I want to remain friends even as I feel most unfriendly. It is a messy thing, is writing a Dear John letter.

A baby, a toddler has absolute trust in and totally worships parents. But that is dependence, need and not knowing better. The equation changes when it comes to adult relationships. The worship and trust, the regard and respect all change then.

This is because love isn't a simple emotion or need. Hunger and thirst are simple needs. The need to be wanted appreciated cherished or prized is complex. In all relationships between sexes, there is an element of transaction.

Lust is simple. Love is conditional. Always. Lust is true need. Love is accretion of sentiment and remembered affection and gratitude around that.

A pure instant of overwhelming undemanding affection can happen, but it is not a sustainable emotion. A person can't be continuously grateful or in orgasm. The affection or love mutates, changes its aspects through the length of a relationship.

There is always one person in a couple that cares more. There is one that always gives ground, accepts limits and compromises.

You made the overtures. You started this. And it has been on your terms. You chose how much of yourself you would reveal to me, how much of yourself you'd give to me, not knowing or caring that that very choice reveals more to me. You made demands that I acceded to when newly in lust. What crumbs I glean are mine. What you demand and take, yours.

It's your view, your needs, your decision, all the way, always. Like it or lump it. Take it or leave it. My way or the highway.

You chose to befriend me, beguile me and bemuse me. Yes, I was besotted. I gave way, went with the flow, and made no demands. Love on your terms is hard to sustain, though.

You chose terms and conditions. Now I choose too. I choose to leave.

Goodbye.

11 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ouch. Who's the poor sap now?

9:59 pm  
Blogger Lalita said...

Rajesh- You ask for fiction and I provide and then... Sheesh! Nobody you know, anyhow. ;-)

11:29 pm  
Blogger Sivaram Pothukuchi said...

Less than your best, I regret to say !

Firstly, love is more emotion that logic. This letter is too logical.
Love or emotion does not permit such a cut-and-try; it clings, like a smell, a perfume, long after the original substance is no longer present.

This, whether the terms are purely one-sided or not. Even when it looks clearly one-sided, there is a choice from the second party - of accepting the one-sidedness.

There is no sound when one hand claps.

10:44 am  
Blogger Shirsha said...

"Love is conditional. Always." Really!!?? It is often tough to accept when someone says 'Love is conditional' that way, bluntly, almost accusingly. But it is true I suppose...

"Love is accretion of sentiment and remembered affection and gratitude around that." Aah, this is true though...

10:59 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

why do you write such posts which leaves me wondering whether it is fact or fiction?

1:17 pm  
Blogger Priya said...

Just a simple query: May I come with you? ;-)
What crumbs I glean are mine Of course, that's all we get...after all, we're the "nitpickers", remember? Tee hee!
Babe, you rock!

2:23 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Back to frequent posting, I see. This letter is coldly clinical, but then the opening paragraph states the reasons. I'd hate to be the recipient if it's not a fiction piece. You can write nasty, Lali.

2:38 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Saathiyaa nahin jaaanaa ki jee na lage.

Sincerely,
Secret admirer

3:40 pm  
Blogger Lalita said...

Sivaram- Yes, love is more emotion than logic, but what is left when love dies? The letter does state that lust is truer than love. When lust is gone, love is sham then.

Okay, I wrote it because I got tired of sappy sentimental letter fiction. I've done too many of those, after all.

Shirsha- Love is conditional.

PTC- If you wonder I have achieved my purpose. :-)

Priya- You and me both, babe, you and me both.:-)

Ash- Yay! You agree I can write nasty. Thanks.

Anon- *snort* Get a name.

5:09 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

What does Secret admirer Mark 1 know? Decent comment, but wrong post. Saathiya would've made better impact with the apples and oranges post. You might even have replied nicely then.

Me, I know when not to quote. I shall, like the quality of mercy, gently rain on this blog my version of besottedness. And I stay anonymous because it's more amusing.

Sincerely,
Secret Admirer #2

12:18 am  
Blogger Lalita said...

Anon- It is not funny.

1:05 pm  

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