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.