There’s the love that I need, and then there’s the love that I settle for.
Category Archives: Personal
How much damage must you have endured to become reluctant to ask for what’s rightfully yours?
Asking for things has never been my thing. It’s not that I don’t want things—I do. But over time, I’ve convinced myself that I don’t. I’ve never really gotten the things I wanted, and that made me feel like a loser. So now, I just don’t ask.
Growing up, my parents didn’t really get me anything I asked for. They led me to believe I had to earn it. And even though I performed so well in school, I never quite earned it in their eyes. Maybe they couldn’t afford it, or maybe they didn’t want to. Either way, it shaped me.
The truth is, I do want things—so many things. But I don’t even buy them for myself because I feel like there will always be more important things to prioritize.
I’ve received gifts before, things I didn’t ask for and didn’t think I wanted, but I ended up loving them. That made me realize it’s not that I don’t want things. It’s that I don’t want to break my own heart by wanting things I might never afford or by asking for something I may never get.
I can’t even find the courage to ask for what’s mine. That’s just who I am.
Anyway, I passed all my modules—yay! I want someone to be ecstatic for me, over the moon. I know my thesis is still pending, but this in itself is huge for me. And the one person I was excited enough to share this with didn’t even acknowledge it.
That broke my heart.
Lord knows I’ve been in love before. I’ve cried on the mat, tears streaming down my face, fully distraught, praying for callbacks and text messages, praying they’d find love in their hearts for me as I had for them. So why is it that, after all that, this time feels like I’m in love for the very first time?
I never tire of his presence. I’ve been in love before, but I’ve never met someone whom I didn’t need time to recharge away from. Usually, after a few days, I’d need to come home and have time to myself, but with him, it feels like he’s a part of me. Being with him is as enjoyable as my own company, if not better. Oh, I think—they call this love?
We fight, but he forgets it quickly. My attitude blows over, and I surrender to his love. I can’t even stay mad at him. I care for him so deeply that I understand him to his core. Every step he takes, even if in the wrong direction sometimes, I understand where his heart comes from. Before he loved me, before all of this, he was human first, and I’m in love with all his flaws, just as he loves mine. He actually said it to me one day, and I thought—that’s wonderful.
There’s little I wouldn’t do for this man. He’s the exception to every rule.
Now, am I worried I might end up hurt? Terrified, to be honest. But sometimes I sit back and think, this moment is worth it. I’ve found little happiness in this world, and he makes me immensely happy. That’s more valuable than anything.
And how funny is it, that it took me forever to feel sure about people, about commitment, to feel certain I would love them every day—until I met him. With everyone else, I always wondered, even if I felt deeply for them in the moment, if I’d still love them the next day. Rarely did I find the faith in myself that I would, and often, I lied to myself and struggled through days when I didn’t feel the same way. I accepted that this is how relationships worked—that you didn’t love them every day, that some days you pretend. I was always in awe of the couples who made their relationships last through years, as mine barely lasted one.
But with him, I can’t imagine a day when I won’t love him. It just happened, without much effort. Maybe that’s what falling in love really is—one day you just fall, and everything is different. All the rules and expectations you had of love crumble because it’s nothing like you thought it would be; it’s better. In a way you can’t quite describe—it’s just better. And I pray I never lose this love.
Holding you in my arms feels like I’m holding my whole world—so fragile, so precious. I realize I’ve never tried hard enough in any of my relationships, but with you, I surrender.
Traveling, dancing in airports, humming the same songs, often not caring about the world that exists beside us—you and me, against the world.
I’ve thought this before, and now I’m more certain of it than ever.
My father loved other women more than he loved my mother, and perhaps, in a psychologically twisted fate, I’ve made it my destiny to forever be the ‘other woman.’
Maybe it’s my way of trying to feel closer to the love I never received from my father, hoping someone will love me the way he loved those other women, instead of my mom.
What a fate.
Something I love so much about you is that when you notice I’m about to fall off a mental cliff (spiral), you just recklessly distract me out of it by any means. I hate it, but it works. You pull me back, and just like that, the cliff disappears, and I no longer want to jump.
I think I’m used to cutting off pieces of myself to keep people warm. I might try to change, but it won’t work.
It’s a strange place to be, feeling this needy. Craving someone’s company every second of the day. I used to be the girl who craved solitude, who did things on her own, who got lost in her mind, cradled melancholy, and drowned in the blues.
Now, I’m afraid to be alone with my thoughts.
Will I ever escape the sadness that is in my heart?
She Was Sea 