Am I unlovable?
For many years, I've asked myself this question, hoping for life to prove me wrong.
A few days ago, I had a conversation with a loved one about my mental health and how it would affect our relationship, maybe even our “kids”. Right then, I realized how fucked up I was. I was, am, and will always be a husk. An empty hollow shell. Was I ever made to be loved, or just to seek the slight feeling of warmth? I crave love as if my life depends on it. But whenever I feel a crumb of love, I get scared. I run away, I fight, I kick the ground, I kept reminding myself that this is nothing but a sweet lie, the sweetest one. I’m self-destructive and I fear one day I might blow everything up. Poor thing, chasing a mirage, thinking it’s the way out of misery.
21 years, 1 real relationship, and 2 heartbreaks.
Recently, I realized I’m not doing myself justice by being this harsh. I’m ONLY 21, my whole life is still ahead of me. And I find comfort in the fact that you’re only meant to meet one person that feels totally right, just once, in your whole life.
Meanwhile, looking back at my adolescence -such a torturous curse- I used to think something is wrong with me, which is somehow true. But as humans, we’re not built like that, the surface is never enough, we always look for the deep core.
My mental health issues were not the problem; my picking on myself was.
HEARTBREAK NO.1: The one that got away.
Have you ever experienced someone completely vanishing? I have.
I offered him my heart as a sacrifice for maybe being loved. He marked it his with his claws, vanished with it. Leaving me with a hole in my chest the size of my consensually stolen heart. That’s my affliction, whenever I love, I let it consume me. I let love be everything I have, everything I am. I love till every atom of my body knows their names. Now all I can remember about him is my suffering. Not his brown eyes, which used to hug me whenever his arms couldn’t, not how his beard felt, not how he looked at me like I was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. I figured he saw me instead of just looking at me.
I used to live by this quote, trying to convince myself that what I had was love.
While COVID was ravaging the world, I used to play If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe & Julia Michaels on repeat, and write him letters. Letters I never had the chance to send. Now you can imagine how I felt when, suddenly and without warning, he vanished. I spent my days in agony wondering if I should wait or move on with my life. I didn’t mourn him, I mourned my love, my feelings and how I used to love selflessly. And thanks to him, I couldn’t go back to who I was before.
It actually was for the better.
RELATIONSHIP NO.1: My first real taste of love.
Although K. is not my first love, I intend it to be the last. Even if it didn’t work out. I have lost uncountable pieces of myself, and I’m left with so little to barely survive. I lay awake at night whispering to my younger self that it might be this one, we can let our guard down, it’s fine to give away our last piece hoping it wouldn’t get torn apart this time. Maybe I used to love the idea of being loved or even love itself. But I like this one, all of him. Even the "pros and cons list" made me want him even more. I have never imagined being capable of bearing such love.
I may regret writing about my love-life publicly, but I will never regret loving you.
Thanks<333