I remember a time where I didn’t have to worry about other people, and I remember a time before they came into my life and took away pieces of me I hadn’t even had the chance to discover yet. It was nice to like people when my only worry was wondering if they liked me back. After they did, it all went downhill from there and I’ve never given myself a break since. I’ve never fully cut myself off from it all and said actually, I don’t want to speak to or see anyone right now, I want to just be me on my own without worrying whether you find me attractive in that dress or not.
I remember having crushes and enjoying it, getting the butterflies and marvelling at how nice one person’s face could be. I remember being liked by people I didn’t like back but then forcing myself to like them anyway because I wanted to make them happy, and this was all about them right? I remember actually falling for them and being pleased with myself for genuinely feeling that way now and not having to pretend anymore.
I remember them hurting me and I remember hating myself for falling, because if I’d stayed true to myself I wouldn’t have been in this mess.
Liking people isn’t fun for me anymore, I don’t get butterflies or excitement, I get anxiety. I get dread. I think about too many things and I question their every move as well as my own. Every detail is scrutinised and analysed, has he text me back yet? Why not? Is he ignoring me or is he just busy? Whose photo has he just liked on Instagram? Is she skinnier, prettier than me? Does he know her? Have history with her? We’ve been driving for 10 minutes now and he hasn’t said a word, has his mind wandered off somewhere or is he secretly hating every minute of this?
I remember being a teenager and sitting in a circle with my best friends discussing our latest crush, though I was shy about it even then. I remember the excitement and the giggles, the sideway glances and wondering if he was going to text me when I got home that night. I remember listening to old Taylor Swift songs and thinking that was love, happy it was the anthem of my teenage years.
And then I grew up.
Love hurts. People dispute that and say no, love doesn’t hurt, it’s the things that come along with it that hurt, which is true. But what’s also true is the fact that you can’t have one without the other unless you’re lucky, you can’t have the love without the arguments or the analysing or the anxiety or the overthinking or the wondering. You can’t just have love on it’s own, I don’t believe there is a couple out there who have never had a disagreement or an argument throughout their entire relationship.
Love is stealing pieces of the other person for yourself until there’s nothing left of them, love is breaking down every part of them individually until they no longer exist as an individual, but as a joint body with you. Love is leaving them and telling them it’s because they deserve the best and that’s not you. Love is saying maybe you’ll meet again someday and be better for each other. Love is leaving without a word even though you used to stay on the phone all night knowing you needed to sleep but staying up anyway because you would have done anything to hear their voice.
The way you’re shown love is the way you perceive it. That’s how I’ve been shown it, so that’s how I perceive it. I know they weren’t the right people, I know they didn’t deserve me. That doesn’t make a difference in the grand scheme of things though, because it still haunts me. Knowing it was their fault doesn’t make the feelings go away.
Love is hard work and it hurts. One day I’ll find someone that doesn’t allow it to hurt like that but for now, I’m sick of losing soulmates. It hurts to pour yourself into someone for them to leave with no goodbye. I understand it and I don’t. I see the world differently now and I realise that not everyone has the same heart as me, though I try to see things from their point of view anyway, and I forgive them. Forgiving them allows me to forgive myself because I’ll never move on from it otherwise. If I hold onto all this anger and sadness, I’m holding on to them when I want to let them go, I’m holding myself back when I want to be free. It takes effort to consciously hate someone or dislike them, or have ill feelings towards them. It takes no effort to forgive them, let them go and forget about it. I forgive you because I forgive myself. I cannot grow if I am allowing the weight of you to still hold me down. I am free now.
I am sick of losing soulmates, so I will no longer be searching. I do not need anymore stitches sewn across my heart, for there is only so many times you can patch something up before it breaks.
“I’m sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin. I can finally see, you’re as fucked up as me, so how do we win?”