Good morning texts, Sunday cuddle nights with Netflix, flowers and chocolates, long walks, coffee at midnight, exchanges of sweet messages, traveling around the world, knowing someone is always there for you… just it’s idea sends a kaleidoscope of butterflies and a crooked but sincere smile – I know that feeling. It makes mornings a little easier to wake up to. It magically makes problem a little lighter. It makes spending midnight working on a project a little more fun.
Love- it’s worth all kinds of sacrifices and pain, isn’t it?
We encounter a narcotic wave of love pulling us deeper to a pit of unknown – of something unpredictable – yet we take a plunge. Crescendos and decrescendos of heartbeats and rhythms and pulses and intertwining dreams to reality. Once you catch the love bug, it’s a roller coaster ride of romantic comedies and tragedies combined into one mixup.
Yes, love may be one of the best emotions out there, but everything about love also feels so fragile. A wrong word would shatter someone’s day, or not replying to a text can dig a problem from 2 years ago. I’m a thinker. And simply “just” loving as what everyone does doesn’t really grind my days.
A love with sexual relationships do not appeal to me so much, for now.
I rid myself of the fact that I need someone now. Because I can’t. I drive my attention to something else when I feel a little pinch of missing the feeling. Because I can’t. Life is already too much to handle. I’m not ready for a commitment.
I might choose the wrong person at this wrong time. I’m not ready. I have so many plans. I have lots of other priorities. I just can’t. I tell myself all sorts of things to make sure my heart and my head are aligned in one common mindset.
A guy once told me, what if all you need is someone to be there for you. One who will understand, one who will back you up, one who will help you complete yourself.
But even then– especially then– I cheat myself.
It’s frustrating at times though – being happy single – like it’s an odd disease. People around you think that you’re just a little salty from your past relationships. And explaining yourself will just seem to prove them right even more. Even if you’re not.
Maybe my life doesn’t make a plot as great as Cinderella or 50 First Dates or The Fault in Our Stars. Maybe my life would make a crappy movie. But I don’t want those kinds of plot to a happily ever after just because everyone feels it’s the perfect love story- or even one that I need now.
Falling in love is not an idea that appeals to me. Because falling means you have no idea where you’ll land or how difficult it would be to climb up again. You’ll get bruises and scars and injuries and you’ll never know if there would be someone to put you back together or see your flaws and quirks as perfect. How can you love someone wholly if you can’t love yourself completely?
So this is me, telling myself that I don’t care. This is me acting all grown up in this quarter-life phase. This is me using my mind over my heart on each possible suitor. This is me cheating how I feel.
Locking it up, placing walls, making the glorious idea of love hidden deep in me. I don’t want to be attached to anyone, not just in a sense of sexual relationships, but adding any more friends than what I have now will make me think that it’s okay to take risks in letting people in my life.
I’m a work in progress, and so long as I’m not done with being content with myself, I want to cheat how I feel and figure out what I want, what I don’t, what I want to do, where I’m heading and what kind of person I want to be with for the rest of my life. I want to cheat how I feel until I figure out how to set my life piece by piece to its right place before making myself part of someone else’s life.
I need to know I’m complete as myself before I can let myself fall in love – if that’s the phrase everyone uses. I need to assure myself that I’ve travelled enough, or made enough mistakes, or got to the height of my career before I can allow myself to trust anyone to come into my life– before I trust anyone to come into my life– and possibly ruin it. But I won’t break down even then, because I know I’m complete as I am.
And when I am ready; when I’m done cheating, I know it’ll be perfect. It’ll be at the perfect time, with the perfectly imperfect person and the perfect reason.