Love has always eluded me or I love.

I’ve always been that stalker watching from a distance, wanting to but never bold enough to give in to it.  Who does that?  Me. Someone not strong enough to be vulnerable; open, yet locked way.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved and I’ve loved hard but there was always this next level that I dreamed of but dared not enter.  It required me nude, exposed…to judgement and I was. But I’m scared…I’m petrified! Of what though? Rejection? Not being loved in return? Maybe I’m incapable of loving or unable to accept it being reciprocated.

I remember in university I was totally captivated by a particular young man who was never shy in showing that he cared and wanted me.  I edged around it, never committed and even years later I ask myself the worse question in life, ‘what if?’  We remained friends and I think he pities me.  I hate that, but he should; I’m pitiful.

He once said that if he had written how he felt about me in bold red letters, I’d still not read the signs.  He was…is wrong.  I read all his signs and wanted him too.  I felt his stares, I stared back… my entire body responded, but kept it a secret when he’d deliberately, accidentally, gently touch me in passing. Like with the wind I shivered, pulled myself together (composed, never vulnerable).

I dreamed of his kisses, wanted and needed him to (kiss me) and one day he did.  I froze, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think even though my thoughts were racing at a million miles per hour.  In my mind I had used that kiss to tell him how much I’d wanted that moment but I didn’t know how to be vulnerable.  I looked at the guy who for months I’d been falling for and my body weighed a ton. I couldn’t move.  I didn’t kiss back.

He soon grew frustrated and moved on with his life, and I too. Except, mine keeps leading me right back to this familiar place.

Am I hung up on him? No. Sometimes I don’t even remember his existence but it’s my inability to reciprocate this kind of love which reminds me of him.

So I dated persons who I assumed couldn’t truly surrender—just like me.  But clearly I was left empty-lost and it was all my fault, so I stopped.  For nearly a decade I have refrained from getting close to anyone and if I get the inclination that I could like them—or even dare to love them—I vanish.

I admit it.  I’m weak.

I recently admitted my greatest fear to myself to my best friend and now to you. I’m petrified that I will never fall in love, love purely and wholly and be loved in return.

I’m that person who does and says what I want, not caring about the judgement of others.  I set goals and attain them, dream big and then surpass those dreams when I wake up.  SO WHY CANT I ALLOW MYSELF TO LOVE (romantically)!

Then there is this other side to me.  I love and want to love so many different kinds of persons to the point where I love none.

They say you find your keys when you aren’t looking.  I haven’t looked for a while and my keys haven’t found me, or maybe they have but I was too scared to pick them up, jump in the car, start the engine and drive into the sunset.

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