Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

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[{"type":"txt","id":"rich_1489773752885","data":"For those who didn't get the reference, I've borrowed the title of this post from John Mayer's song, 'slow dancing in a burning room', which apart from like the most romantic thing to do amidst flames in a room, talks about perishing relationships and I couldn't happen to agree more.<\/p>I don\u2019t understand relationships. Moreover, I don\u2019t understand how people perceive this entire idea of relationships. Unfortunately, the only relationships we come across while growing up are based are the ties of the family and the other ties the society chooses for us and so all we grow up knowing are the relationships weld together by this sense of \u201cduty\u201d towards each other rather than love.<\/p>And there comes a point when you wonder what do these relationships exist for in the first place? Weren\u2019t relationships meant to be invigorating to our existence but all they end up being is a noose round our necks \u2013 tightening their grips as we try to walk further.\n\nHonestly, All I remember about relationships I\u2019ve grown up seeing is just an obligation to stick around because you\u2019re bound to, be it my parents\u2019 relationship with each other or their relationship with their parents and each other\u2019s parents. All I\u2019ve seen is their pretentious smiles and frowns that they try to conceal (But they can\u2019t. Duh, I\u2019ve lived with you for nineteen years, how do you expect me not to figure out how much you hate each other?) It was like living in a house full of ghosts- shadows and noises but no warmth.<\/p>Every morning I woke up to see a pair of dead eyes staring back at me questioning me with their cold gaze whether I would be able to make it through the day? I had been living in this constant state of mourning the death of someone I loved, knowing little that it was the dearth of my own self that was slowly and excruciatingly hollowing me. And even though I felt hollow, I felt this constant weight in my chest that I needed to carry with me everywhere I went without letting anyone know.\n\nI remember them being depressed, I don\u2019t remember them trying to overcome it, but I do remember them blaming each other for their suicidal tendencies and breakdowns. I could not figure out how I fell into this condition of being clinically depressed because I was always the happy child (Maybe because I didn\u2019t care about the battlefield my home had become) but as sleep turned rare and my unwarranted crying sessions became more frequent, I was dragged to a psychiatrist and now I belonged to the family as well (And I realised that no matter how much I denied it, somewhere deep down I cared about this bunch of people who- I was made to believe since I was born-were a thing called \u201cfamily\u201d to me and that dragged me down to where they were. In this whirlpool of emotions which \u201cnormal\u201d people call depression.) A bunch of pills every day and I was expected to behave like the happiest nineteen year old.<\/p>I didn\u2019t loath. I tried. I couldn\u2019t. I failed. <\/p>But I learned. I learned that carrying the corpses of relationships have been long dead will perish you too. I learned that life is all about fresh starts and encouraging relationships.<\/p>"}]

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