the strangest way i test if someone truly loves me

my stupid little car theory

now before i start: have i done any sort of research into this? does a theory like this already exist? is it me discovering the already discovered? looks like i’ll never know because i never intend to find out. this is my theory. something i’ve felt in my bones for a while now, and just never had the words to say.

i think all of us, at some point or another, test the people we love. sometimes it’s intentional, sometimes it’s not. sometimes it’s conscious, sometimes it happens in the way we reach out a little less to see if they’ll still reach back.

but movies? movies know how to dramatize this in ways that feel both absurd and real. like in Barfi, where he subtly cuts into the base of a lamp post and stands a few steps away from it with the girl he loves. he doesn’t say a word. he just waits, knowing it’s going to fall any second, wanting to see: will she run away and save herself? or will she stay close to him and take the hit together? and when she stays, when she doesn’t move, it’s like something clicks for him. proof. a moment of quiet reassurance that he is truly loved.

barfi 2012 (in frame: ranbir kapoor and priyanka chhopra)

now, is that healthy? probably not. is it manipulative? debatably. but is it human? fuck yeah.

i think it’s in our nature to look for proof. not because we don’t believe love exists, but because sometimes we’re just so desperate to be sure. sure that we’re not the only ones feeling this deeply. sure that we’re safe. sure that someone would choose us even in chaos.

my version of the lamp post test doesn’t involve something quite as cinematic. it disguises itself in the form of a car. let me explain.

two people. a car. 1000 km. 12 hours on the road.

if you can survive that kind of journey with someone. just the two of you, no distractions, no screens, no third parties keeping the conversation alive, then maybe, just maybe, that’s your kind of love.

because let’s be honest. a 12-hour drive with the wrong person? it can feel like punishment. the wrong music. the wrong conversations. the wrong energy. every minute feels like ten. you start counting exits. you get irritable about things that normally wouldn’t matter: the way they chew, how they drive, how they don’t offer to switch seats. small silences become uncomfortable. topics run dry. even sleeping feels like an escape rather than rest.

you realize you’re not tired from the road, you’re tired from the company.

if you can drive for hours and talk about nothing and everything, if you can make up ridiculous games about the billboards you pass, or point out weird-shaped clouds and give them names, if you can pull over on a whim for ice cream or cheap burgers, if one of you can nap while the other drives with a hand rested lightly on their leg, music humming softly through the speakers then you’ve passed the test. not because it was set up, but because you made something mundane feel sacred.

i remember once we were on a trip, just the two of us. our playlists were all over the place, we’d go from arijit to arctic monkeys to punjabi folk without a care in the world. he’d randomly quiz me on the capitals of obscure countries and i’d pretend not to know, just so he could show off that he did. we’d roll down the windows and scream lyrics we didn’t(scratch that - i didn’t) even know properly. at one point, we drove in silence for nearly an hour, not out of awkwardness but comfort.

i think that’s what the lamp post theory is really about, not the falling post, not the danger, but the way we want to be seen. the way we long for that one small moment where the other person shows you that they see you, they choose you, and they’re not going anywhere.

so maybe yours isn’t a lamp post or a long drive. maybe it’s how they react when you cry. or how they speak about you in a room full of strangers. or if they remember how you like your coffee. or whether they notice when you start dimming your light and gently bring you back.

we’re all looking for proof. not grand gestures, just the quiet confirmations. the little things that scream “i love you” without ever needing to say it out loud.

and when you find someone who passes your lamp post test hold onto them gently. not like a prize, not like proof. but like home. <3