Falling in love is like buying food on an empty stomach

 I have learnt something important about myself: I should never go to the market hungry. And apparently, I should also never fall in love unsupervised. 

This is because falling in love, I have discovered, is exactly like buying food on an empty stomach. You go to the market with good intentions, a list even. You tell yourself, I am just looking. You promise you won't overdo it. You swear you are a grown woman with sense. 

Then your stomach growls, and suddenly wisdom goes out of the window. 

Everything starts looking good. Things you have never eaten before start looking appetising. You begin looking closely at foods you don't even know how to cook. The real madness begins when even the food you hate starts looking attractive. Food you would avoid on normal days or that has disappointed you looks good. You stop asking questions like: do I really need this? and start asking dangerous ones like how much does this cost? 

That is how love enters your life. While you are hungry. 

They say hunger makes even bitter food taste sweet. I did not understand this proverb properly until recently. When you are full, you are selective. You pass by things confidently. You even judge. But when you are hungry, emotionally, spiritually, romantically, you start romanticising onions. You convince yourself you will figure it out at home. 

These days, I find myself thinking about someone the way a hungry person thinks about food. Casually at first, then frequently. I catch myself smiling at my phone. I read and reread my messages. 

Phone calls stretch. One minute becomes thirty. Thirty becomes "let me just finish my story." It is like standing at a stall, not buying, but trying to convince your heart. Asking questions you don't even need answers to, just so you can stay there a little longer.

And just like the market, love has its characters.

There are the loud things calling to you. The flashy flashy things insisting they are fresh. There are the quiet things sitting humbly saying nothing. And there are the red flags. But hunger has no eyes. The stomach has no ears. It does not listen to warnings shouted from the head. 

You tell yourself, at least it is cheap. Other people eat this. I have survived worse. 

This is how love humbles you. Because when you are falling in love, logic takes a back seat. You start doing calculations. You analyse tone. Analyse silence. You start waiting the way someone waits for food they ordered while very hungry. 

They say you don't buy food with someone else's stomach, but love makes you forget whose hunger this is. You start explaining, defending, justifying. Meanwhile your heart is already carrying shopping bags. 

And yet, I am not angry at myself because hunger also means you are alive. It means your heart has not closed shop. The problem is not that you went to the market hungry. The problem is pretending hunger does not influence decisions. 

An elder once said patience can cook even a stone. But there is another truth - hunger can convince you the stone is meat. So here I am, a little amused and slightly softer than I planned to be. Falling in love the way one wanders into a stall they had no intention of shopping at.

Maybe love, like food, is not about never going hungry, but about learning when to pause, when to taste and even when to walk away before you reach home and stare at your purchases, wondering what possessed you. 

From where my feet are, this is where I am standing.