I didn’t understand it.

I couldn’t control my tears, trying desperately to hide them. What had happened? He’d said something hurtful—just a little joke, really—but it pierced me deeply. I told him to stop, half-joking, hoping he’d understand. He laughed it off, and I pretended to forgive him.

But my mood shifted; I shut down. Tears flowed silently. Why was I so hurt? It wasn’t about him. I couldn’t even pinpoint the source of the pain, just that it was there.

Normally, I’d think it was because I liked him so much, that his words had power over me. But it went deeper. My insecurities were triggered, my self-esteem crumbled, revealing all the struggles I battle daily. These were my issues.

I just wanted him to leave, so I could cry in peace, drowning in feelings of being damaged and broken.

After I sleep with someone, I become vulnerable, like a fragile glass house. It’s why I need to keep my guard up. If I don’t protect myself, I risk shattering into pieces over and over again.

It’s astonishing how you can have a breakdown right in front of someone without them noticing a thing. It’s impressive, in a way.

And I felt completely broken.

I keep listening to it whenever I’m falling apart. It reminds me of you, of the last and probably the only time in recent years when I broke down in someone’s arms. You did what anyone would do; you held me like it was fine. You played a song that carved a new organ out of me, helping me feel better.

So I play it again and again, every time I crash.

The lies I told him.

I told him I didn’t believe in praying for people because I believed everything was predestined, that what’s meant for you will never slip away.

But I was terrified of losing him, so I went home and asked for him in sujood.

I felt ashamed, but my heart got ahead of me. He became the name in my prayers.

I might be giving up on love, and maybe it won’t be the worst thing. Because, let’s be honest, what has loving people gotten me? Trying to choose people I fell for has done nothing but wreck me.

But that was something I always said, that I would never compromise with love, that if I ever settled down, I would be settling down with my best friend. And that’s the idea I always had in mind. I believed love was what made living worthwhile. And I don’t think I’m wrong there.

But maybe love helps achieve different things for different people. Our end goal isn’t love; love is simply a tool that helps us achieve greater things. We want to be loved, and that means feeling safe and secure with someone. And to feel that way, it is important that they love you. But it’s irrelevant whether you love them.

My mother used to tell me that I should find someone who loved me, not someone whom I loved. And I see her point now. But I think it would be best if I found someone who loved me more than I loved them. I still can’t let go of the idea that I can’t completely compromise with love. I can compromise a little; maybe it doesn’t have to be a great love, but it still has to be love.

But then, what is love? When I think of love, I think of all the times my soul left my body and entwined with someone else’s. And that’s happened almost never. But there have been many times my anxious or insecure attachment styles led me to believe that I desperately loved someone. And now, looking back, that may not have been it.

But friendship, love must be friendship.

And while I might be giving up on the idea of love, I just want to be loved. And one final thing, not to victimize myself, but not being loved right as a child and through your adolescent years makes finding the right kind of love incredibly difficult. Because first, you don’t really know what it feels like to be loved or to even allow it. But maybe I’ll learn.

But love perhaps isn’t everything. There are more important things: safety, security, and assurance. And loving yourself means prioritizing what’s good for your soul, not just for your heart.