On Love and Becoming.

A page from my physical journal turned into text; felt an intuition to share, so I’m writing it here too :)

Love, for me, isn’t some soft, rosy romcom hallucination.

(God! I would rather lick my wall while listening to Type O Negative until my tongue dries up than watch sappy movies. That stuff gives me PTSD.)

It’s quieter. Sharper. More like a tuning fork struck inside the chest. Love is that strange calm I felt the first time I saw her, like someone pressed mute on my lifelong background anxiety. For the first time, I wasn’t spiraling about death, failure, or becoming a potato. Something shifted. Subtly. Silently. Like my Ishta Devi herself slapped on my forehead and said, “Wake up, dummy. There’s so much work to do.”

Love, to me, is becoming. Not chasing. It’s the way her presence, even from my phone's screen, didn’t ignite lust, but discipline. Not fantasy, but direction. She didn’t make me want her; she made me want me! the version of me that I could respect. A version that could achieve his dream, walk the path of righteousness, keep his head steady, conquer his mind, build his body, sharpen his buddhi (intellect), and speak to the world without shaking. It’s not “I need her.” It’s I need to be worthy of myself. And she is the catalyst. She was only the calm spot in all the chaos. She didn’t create palpitations, trembling of hands and feet those are disease, not indications of love, lol. She exposed the devil in me that was already lingering and eating me up, showed me how to pacify it, and who I could become beyond it.

Seeing her, all I felt was calmness, serenity, lol! and that felt inhumane. This effect? No one ever had it on me; it’s hilarious. Love, for me, is the kind that doesn’t demand, beg, chase, or cling. I don’t expect her to reply. It won’t matter if she never does. She’s not a possession; she’s a symbol. My internal North Star. A reminder of what I could be if I stop wasting time and finally live like the man I was supposed to be.

Love is seva. Love is discipline. Love is that quiet vow I made under my breath to show up, study, fix my mind, clean my soul, build my destiny. Love is a promise I made to myself. And if the Universe wants, our timelines will intersect. If not, I’ll still walk the path because the path itself is sacred.

Some things are meant to unfold slowly, in silence, through effort rather than desire. I will take the time to become what I must. I may reach out later not to ask, not to expect, but simply to offer gratitude. Gratitude for being a turning point I never asked for, but deeply needed. That is all.

And I thought I gave a disclaimer about sappiness at the beginning, but who cares. [God that was really embarrassing to type the whole stuff out.]

(edit: added the publishing date)

[Dec. 6. 2025]