10 Ways I Loved You



Being with you has always made me feel secure. You charm me in the most noble way and I’m entrapped into having this sweet and lovely conversations with you. Yet even with all that, I’m the only one enamored as our interactions deem completely meaningless to you.


I’m the only one who thinks that every moment spent with you, our late Friday night strolls, usual breakfasts in bed, and movie dates, hold meaning. However with you, everything is rendered hollow and insignificant. We both know you’re only doing all these things because you can’t do that one thing I long for the most; love me.


We can be too close at one instance and detached right after. You can spend so many nights with me and then not talk to me for days afterwards. Leaving me with nothing but the palatable desire of waiting for you; for your text, for your callm and maybe one day, for that one moment you’ll finally reciprocate the same feelings I have for you. It’s like waiting for that 4:00 AM bus at 10:00 AM – something I know won’t come, yet I still wait, hoping and praying for some twist of fate.


You know me too well. You know when I am happy or sad. Everything about me. You see through my open heart and read me like an open book. It pains me that you don’t even permit me to infiltrate any part of your being.


Knowing my value and understanding the love I deserve, I let you love me less than what I’m entitled to. Maybe because you’re not aware of it or you just refuse to give it. You construe my worth as less than its true value. I act okay, I act as if I don’t need anything more; for anything is better than nothing.


I’m a fool, such a fool for you. There’s no us. There’s no future. Yet every time I’m with you, I feel hopeful. I begin to feed my heart with expectations that maybe someday, you will be able to give me the love I deserve. It’s like loving a wall, a tall brick wall. It’s just me, my love for you, and that wall. Nothing beyond it. Nothing before. Nothing in between.


Darling, you are my glorious puppeteer. You own me and have marked my entire soul as yours. Every inch of my being, I let you hold it. I let you trace every fragment of my body, let you inside every whim, every secret, every trance without being able to grasp any of your own.


I’m the water and you’re the sun. I let you absorb everything. I granted you the liberty to use me as long as you need, as long as you want, leaving me bare and parched once you’re done regardless if I’m able to have you or not when I’m the one in need.


I love you. I love you. I love you. You’re the only one. I try to make myself believe that someday I will get to be the most vital person in your life, the one you will come home to and the one who will always be enough. Nevertheless, I’ll take what little you can give. And even though loving you gets tougher and tougher, I will still whisper, “I love you” in the middle of the night despite the fact that I am never able to call you my own.


It all boils down to goodbye. You were gone fast as lightning. Possibly, with no regrets. I watched your silhouette disappear from my window sill taking each fraction of my mind, my heart, and my stripped soul. Knowing that you’ve taken every portion of my being without the assurance that you’ll be back. It’s just goodbye. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Dian is the author of Catastrophes, a prose and poetry collection exploring living and loving, breaking and mending, falling and rising, losing and surviving. Get in touch with her on Instagram and Twitter.

Keep up with Dian on Instagram, Twitter and Website

More From Thought Catalog