Love or something like it

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Love or something like it.

Those are the words that have been running through my mind the past few months or so. What exactly is love and why do I care? As I was sitting, minding my own business at Starbucks, some cute couple had to walk through the glass doors, smiling and looking all happy like they had no care in the world and they just loved each other. And it’s hit me, lately, I’m really lonely.

And that’s the worst time to wish for someone.

On a daily basis, I talk to two people and both of them live far away. I’m lonely for companionship, for friends, for love. But honestly, I’ve done this to myself, right?

I’m really good at being lonely. Being by myself is my favorite time. I’m also really good at pushing people away. Making sure that as soon as I might feel something, I run in the opposite direction. Because being lonely is easy. There are no emotions that could cause disasters and headaches and ‘e’motion sickness and all the other bullshit that comes with liking someone.

However, I’m also really good at liking people that don’t like me. I think we’re all really good at that. Good at liking someone who may contact me today. Maybe. Good at talking down my feelings so it doesn’t seem like I care at all. At that, I’m a master.

Love or something like it.

I’ve decided I need to stop. It’s time. I feel as if I have turned into someone, that if I was looking from the outside, I’d roll my eyes at and think pathetic. I have loved no one in my life, except family members, cats, and the occasional girlfriend who has held my hand while I cried. Those are the good ones, the ones who have seen snot form a bubble out of your nose and handed you more chocolate.

Or didn’t make fun of you until after you were done sobbing and told you how disgusting you are.

I could have loved someone. It would have been very easy to if I hadn’t played chicken and just admitted how I was feeling. But feelings are gross and boring and too private.

Way too private. Even for someone who you could have possibly, maybe, kinda, probably, could be in love with. But maybe, not likely, no.

Love or something like it.

I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn’t, not really. Only the smudgeness of it, the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. Because it’s the halves that halve you in half. I didn’t know, don’t know, about the in-between bits: the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me.

Like, Crazy.

I’m still not over that quote. I don’t think I’ll ever be.

Love or something like it.

A lot of people wonder why I just don’t try.

“What’s stopping you? Why are you so scared?”

Because of everything listed above. Because being vulnerable sucks. Because nothing ever lasts and why should you share so much about yourself with a person when it will eventually end.

Humans aren’t made to be monogamous. It’s not natural.

We all grow up. We change. We learn new things. We’re not the same person we were five years ago, and thank goodness for that. So, why do we expect that the person we’re with won’t change as well? Why do we think that the person will always be exactly as we want them to be?

That’s why I’m scared.

Because I could have loved someone. I probably still can, but what’s the point?

Love or something like it.

And also, have you seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?

No, thanks.

Love or something like it.

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2 thoughts on “Love or something like it

  1. I’m totally terrified of impermanence. Even if I get married one day, I’ll still be terrified of how people change. I guess relationships really are just about finding someone who wants to keep working at being with you. That’s hard.

    Like

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