The Love:Living in United States of America…

If you had been my faithful readers all along, you may realize that I do not shy away from the topic. It has been a roller coaster ride for me regarding love, with heartbreaks and heartaches. I have been in love, and sadly out of love as well. My depression  post breakup was an overkill, in brief.

It happened in United States, where I knew that the followup “getting-back-together” calls would mean nothing more than me being in the gutter once again. I cried my heart out and spoke to whomever that would listen that I am heart broken. I wanted to beg to the almighty above, that time should stop, that I needed to breathe, that I needed time to heal. I wanted to fall off the grid and become a monk, because for me this life was baseless. I started seeing my life in an alternate reality, parallel to my own. I would pity myself, and I would victimize myself. I had stopped looking at myself in the mirror, I loathed my face, my body, my whole being. However, the struggle reached its epitome when I could not sleep. I would close my eyes and hear the world sleep and get up again, when all this time I was wide awake. Finally, sun would hit the horizon and my body’s turmoil would reach an epiphany, and I could sleep for an hour or two if the days were good. It went on for months.Till now, after almost 2 years, when I have those nights when I cannot sleep, I completely and honestly lose it. My family, several continents away, did not know what their daughter was going through. I never told them, but I still ask myself, should I have taken the help?

I am currently staying with a girl, who  is lovely and who spoke up about her love life. Rummaging through people’s profiles on, she says that some people who register there do not intend to marry. They are browsing instead of swiping left and right on Tinder. She mentions very jovially how she had been rejected in the past on the basis of her weight, her visa status, her skin color, and so on. She mentions the double standards of the candidates, who would be living in with someone and would still seek out “a marriage material” partner. She mentions about handsome guys, who have wives back in India and they still try to solicit with women for “fun” in United States. She talked about her previous room mate, who was sleeping with a guy up until one day before she was about to fly home. She was going home to get married to another man, the more stable one. She asked me today what do I see in a man before I commit. Without waiting for a beat, I replied, “Quality”. To which she asked again, “How do you ensure that the man is of quality?”


Not a long time ago, I had met a friend of a friend, and he seemed interested. He had good qualifications and a great way of talking. He was smart, funny and courteous. He met my room mate and I met his friends, and things were fine. We also had some common friends, and I enquired diligently about his background, which never raised any red flags. When I asked him directly about his relationship status, he said he was single. The only time I felt uncomfortable was when his married friend (who was also his colleague) would always insist to hang out with us. We will be going for a movie, and I would find ourselves waiting for the other friend, also a woman. We will be going out for a dinner, and the other friend would be with us whipping out Groupon coupons. Those were the things that bothered me, but I would eventually learn to ignore. I wanted the things to be slow. Lo and behold one day, when my “good on the paper” lad came to pick me up. Drunk to bits he mentioned that he had a wife back in Houston, which he married for Green Card. The wife and him were not getting along and were separated. By the way, the other married friend that busted our so called dates on many occasions, was his current sleeping partner. I had too much self respect to ask him, “So, who was I?”

On the other hand, relationships do work, but along the hinges of our visa status. One of my mentors, a strong woman, was living in with her boyfriend. Both her and the BF work full time for massive companies. Things were usual. The BF had the work visa, but the girl-my friend was yet to receive one. So on a day when her company told her to pack her bags and leave the country, she complied. She will leave behind her love, her life, her dreams behind . She will leave behind the security of being loved by a man. She will leave behind her faith in the system. When S tells me that he wants to shift to the other country for his further education, I go berserk. In a time, when finding a decent guy feels like a mirage  in the desert, when falling in love and staying in love is a lot of hard work and when you finally begin to trust the other person with yourself and your car, the other person’s visa status comes into the picture, along with your own visa status. Trivial and strenious.

But I ain’t stopping smiling, aren’t I?

The 4 letter word. LOVE ❤️


Note to the reader:This article is the second one in the series. If you are here by chance, I recommend the first  one The Loss:Living in United States of America.


Published by


The thing is, you really have to take the pain and read the blog to get to know me. Simple...

One thought on “The Love:Living in United States of America…”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s