Solitude feels Safe, but Curiosity likes to Explore...

I bade adieu to mountain life and moved to Goa in August 2023. The grand relocation I’d fantasised about for years. A tropical coastline, a new life, and a new me. (with new hair and everything) I pulled it off somehow, but not without its fair share of hiccups… and in trying to counter them, I made the same mistake yet again: I let the fear of being alone pick the next person I let in.

Spoiler: that door slammed me harder than I care to admit. It unravelled faster than an avalanche, leaving me sifting through the debris for months. - but that's a story for another time!

After opening one too many doors that led straight into fires, I decided corridors were underrated. Corridors are safe. Corridors have lighting. In corridors, you can peek behind doors, pretend you’re evaluating your options, and then walk away like a responsible adult with boundaries.

It’s been unpredictable without being unmanageable, and the real win is that I’ve held the reins the entire time. Turns out, control suits me!

But then, recently, another door appeared. Simple. Uncomplicated. It didn’t demand or expect anything from me. It just drew me towards it in a way I can’t entirely articulate; subtle but magnetic. I followed the pull, and suddenly, a handful of parallel realities opened up; versions of me that I thought were lost.

Here’s the thing: I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. So now that something that resembles that shape might be knocking… I don’t really recognise it, and I have absolutely no idea what to do with it.  Confusion and clarity seem to coexist the way socks sometimes do: mismatched, yet functional.

I know I need time. I also have no clue what I’m looking for.

Maybe hesitation is my comfort zone. Maybe opening doors is my hobby. Or maybe - just maybe - this one won’t explode.

But a small part of me is already glancing down the corridor, wondering which door I’ll peek behind next...