You’ve been through it time and time again: consuming heartbreak that does nothing less than turn your life upside down. You’ve also taken away countless lessons. Maybe you’ve even made up with said heartbreaker(s) and have moved on in your own right.
Regardless, you’ve dated so many shitheads that it seems like they’re the only breed that you attract. At this point, it’s easiest to just prepare yourself for the worst; you assume that every romantic interest will leave you feeling sorrowful and bitter like the rest. The idea of depending on someone evokes a chuckle, because, ha, you would be stupid to do that again.
You build a wall of indifference and low expectations on a foundation of jadedness. There’s no way anyone will be able to penetrate your heart, because you’ve begun only taking orders from your head.
The only person who could possibly peel back your layers now would have to be persistent—relentless, even.
But what happens when you actually meet that person?—someone who demonstrates good intentions from day one; a guy who is genuinely interested in your story; a girl who continuously makes efforts to spend time with you?
“This is how it always begins,” you tell yourself.
You then start searching for something, anything wrong with this person. You know that their compassion and kindness is just part of the courting process. They must have ulterior motives; there’s no way this person will keep treating you so well.
Although they’ve given you no reason to worry, your mind is still doing backflips, trying to figure out why this person hasn’t screwed up yet. You hold on to the few questionable things they have said or done, even though it amounts to very little concern.
“He’s probably texting someone else” or “does she really, ACTUALLY like me?” will endlessly crisscross through your thought stream.
You’re afraid of being over-invested because at any moment, this person could turn out to be the fraud you’re expecting them to be. You also don’t want to come off as needy or clingy, so you refrain from asking for favors or sending the first text. The moment you recognize one little inconsistency, you detach yourself a bit more. The idea of someone making a fool out of you once again is enough to make you ponder over ending this abruptly.
Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months, and you come to find that they’re still sitting outside of your wall, patiently waiting for an invitation inside. They may even deconstruct their own walls to assure that yours needn’t be so high.
You’ve been told “we accept the love we think we deserve,” but your past has allowed you to question what you deserve. Are they too good for you? Did you really earn this treatment?
You recall the trend of your heart being shattered and re-shattered, and how you don’t know any different. Letting this person in might only allow history to repeat itself.
But it’s too late. You’re fully aware that what you feel is more than platonic in your heart and your head. It feels so fragile because it’s bloomed into something so beautiful, even with your guard up.
They’ve come to adore you even when you haven’t shown them all there is to see. Your heart has swelled with their incessant endearment. You begin to think: they’ve trusted me with their vulnerability—why can’t I reciprocate?
While you’re slow to descend from your wall, you see them waiting below, extending both hands.
You’re not wrong for making this tough for them. But sometimes, some people are absolutely worth the risk.