Once upon a time, there was a man. He met a girl and fell in love. What he saw in her was not clear, because she was not your everyday girl. But then again, He was not your run-off-the-mill guy. As far as the physical was, she did not...’call’ a man’s attention. Somehow, she managed to call his. She also called his heart. No one could understand the pair. But then again, it wasn’t for them to understand.
The man was not perfect, but he worked hard at being the best of himself. He was human, beautifully so. And he loved her with all his heart. She never could understand why.
The girl made choices, bad choices. The choices lead to a breaking apart. It was over.
And then, the man changed. Or so she thought. Because she did not recognise the person that he had become. She seemed to struggle to reconcile who she knew him to be to who he was being. The question then is, who had the identity crisis? The girl, who thought she ‘knew’ him, or the man, who was being himself all along?
Here is my take on this. There is hardly a concept as ‘who we are’. People say, ‘ I do this and that. It’s who I am’. Nonsense I think. All we have are different variants of who we can be. Some variants are comfortable, they feel secure and appropriate for the moment. They fit into our fine principles and ideals. Others are difficult, tasking, tight. Then there is that which is just easy. So, no one has one given form. People shift. That shift is called change. Its not like it was never there. It was always there. It just did not surface either because it wasn’t needed, or it wasn’t wanted, or it wasn’t encouraged enough.
Dear girl, there was no identity crisis on his part. He was only being one of the many things he could be. You saw an inkling of his best, and then an inkling of his worst. It could have gone either way at either time. The determining factors? Choice, and a strong dose of encouragement.
