The Six Types of Love

AYUSH

"Thank you, Aunty. I love you!" I exclaim as I hug one of the two women Muma calls her best friends, the closest thing I have to real aunts in America. Rita and Priya aunties' families are my parents' chosen siblings. Isha and Amira, their daughters respectively, are the sisters I never had. We grew up together. I can't imagine my life in Cincinnati without them or their parents.

I see Si here and think about my family friends' high school graduation party. The event itself, including the day leading up to it, are some of the happiest memories of my life. People flew in from all over the globe to be there for my special occasion. It made me feel like the most important person in the world. I had wanted Si to be there too, but after he cut me off, I was glad he wasn't. His presence would have tarnished another memory.

Si had already ruined my first grad party for only my friends. The original plan for it was that all my close friends would sleep over after the festivities concluded. However, everyone slowly backed out. I had been angry at them all, but specifically at Si. My overdramatic high school self could accept them betraying me, but not him. When confronted about changing his mind, he claimed one of the reasons he didn't want to spend the night was because I made him uncomfortable. Although Si later apologized for that statement, the moment those words escaped his lips, I knew that party would never be a happy memory. Si had destroyed it.

What hurt me the most about Silas Wright was how little he cared about my feelings. His wants always came first. No matter what. I was lucky to be an afterthought. First, it was ruining my birthday, then my senior year, then my grad party, and finally the entire summer before I left for college. Si ripped a hole in the very essence of my being just because his immature mind ping-ponged his love for me back and forth every few months. I love him. Smash. No, I don't. Smash. Yes, I do. Smash. No, I don't. Smash.

I only loved Si because I didn't know what it felt like to be loved before. No one had even given me the bare minimum back then, so I took any love I could get. Who I am now can't believe I gave someone with such blatant disregard for my emotions so much power over me. However, I stopped giving people that power once I started loving myself the way I loved Si, unconditionally.

The moment I became my own best friend, all Si's actions that had destroyed me seemed laughable. So what if you don't want to be there for me? I can be there for myself. You don't want to talk to me? That's ok. A million other people do. I don't need you because I have myself and my family and that's all I'll ever need.

Although so much of me wants Si to come back into my life and every silly fantasy about him to come true, I have to protect myself first. I need to know Si can put me above himself the same way I used to prioritize his wants over mine. I refuse to spend my life with someone who values their ego more than our relationship. All the people at this party have proven time and time again that they love me, and that they would sacrifice their happiness for mine. Everyone here is here for me. They love me and have been there for me in the most ruthless times of my life.

Pushing my thoughts to the back of my mind, I let the music wash over me, putting my glass to the side. I space out my drinks because I want the night to last as long as possible. Once everyone begins to dance, we move the couches to the edge of the living room so more people can fit on the floor. The beats are vibrating my skull, and I love it. Everything is glorious. It feels like I'm back at IU going to my first Indian party, still in India with Shanaya and all her friends club hopping in Mumbai, walking through London late at night arm and arm with a stranger I never met again, and meeting Rani for the first time all at once.

At some point, appetizers are officially unveiled, and everyone takes a break from dancing to devour them. We play party games like mafia and cup pong after. I hug my parents, thanking them for giving me every opportunity they could. Then I go up to Everett and squeeze him till he pushes me away and both of us start laughing till we can't breathe. Suddenly, the music stops. Everyone is confused, but then I see Armaan standing on the center table.