Finding love is not a matter of searching because the very notion that I need to "find" love is incorrect. The love I seek is deeply wired into how I grew up, my choices, my preferences, and all the experiences that shape my perception of life. The love I long for is a complete part of the story I tell myself.
But life is vast, dynamic, and spontaneous. We try to mold our story into life the way we want, but the result of this molding is often disappointment. We end up with something we never expected or desired because the story I create about love does not necessarily align with how life actually works. I don't claim to understand how life works, but I do know this—life presents us with experiences that don't fit into our preconceived narratives. And when they don't align, we reject them, dismissing them as unworthy, like saying, "oranges are sour."
The love I seek often fits my idea of love, but as time passes and the biological attraction or first impressions fade, our deeply rooted patterns and emotions begin to surface. These mountains of emotions and thoughts intertwine, creating barriers—conflicts between me and my love.
It feels like two different worlds or universes colliding. And the result? What once seemed like love becomes a face I no longer want to see—it stings like a needle in my foot.
Yes, "what I thought" was love, because whether I believe it or not, it was merely a thought that convinced me my love had arrived. Of course, emotions played a role, but those emotions were expressed through thoughts—a chain of thoughts leading to imaginations and fantasies.
So where is love? What remains are two mountains facing each other, and it's nearly impossible to penetrate the heart of these mountains with my dream of love.
This has been my experience time and again, leading to detachment from love and the fading hope that love will ever be a part of my life. Life is spontaneous—things happen without immediate explanations, and we rarely understand why at the moment. But with time, clarity emerges through life's flow and our evolving perception.
And then, when I let go of every notion of love—every hope, every thought, every emotion tied to the belief that love is possible—Lina appeared in my life.
I had known her for the past 11 years, but only as a distant memory. We met briefly all those years ago, and she remained just that—a memory from a good past. But when she returned, that memory became part of my story. A story that truly belonged to me, yet one I had never imagined or dreamed of.
It was life's plan that she came back. It took me almost a year to understand that she is the person who brings out the best in me, who brings me peace. Not through motivational words or love-filled speeches, but simply through her presence. She helped me appreciate the true beauty of love—the beauty of two unique individuals and, most importantly, how I relate to her.
The word "relationship" feels overused, even spoiled. For me, its meaning changed when I met Lina. My relationship with her is like a mirror—it reflects who I am. And this is possible only because of her water-like nature.
Water is sometimes soft, sometimes hard. When it's hard, it shows me my own inner blockages and the walls I've unknowingly built within myself.
The love I found—or rather, the relationship that makes me feel deeply connected to Lina—is profoundly transformative. It has changed me from the core because I have let go of my singular, isolated self and started to live and think in terms of unity.
True united-ness only becomes possible when I release my ego, my rigid mountains of self. And in reality, dropping it is simple—it's the realization that love is only possible in selflessness, in surrendering to the natural flow of life.
Love is hard to "find," but it's easy to understand what love is once we shift our perspective. The trajectory we take in searching for love is often wrong; understanding love comes from recognizing what love truly means for me.
I won't say my life has changed—because life is always changing. Instead, I choose who I want to experience this change with. And I decided to experience it with Lina.
Everything in life changes, but if there's one thing I wouldn't call "change"—I'd call it evolution—it's my love and relationship with her.
Yes, life throws bombs and torpedoes at us. The world is imperfect—it was built by humans, and we humans are far from perfect. We've created an imperfect world where things happen that break us, tear us apart. Yes, a minority of humanity has created some of the greatest, most perfect things—works of art, innovations, and wisdom that stand as testaments to human brilliance—but that is not the whole of humanity that exists in the world. The majority still struggles, still makes mistakes, still lives in chaos and imperfection. But the beautiful thing is, good things happen too—because life possesses far greater intelligence than we can comprehend.
Look at the cosmos. Look at nature. It's beyond our understanding. And that's how Lina happened to me.
Love you, Lina.
My love,
Saurabh + Lina = Saulina