That feeling of being “left out” is universal. You may be staying up at 3am just to write this, or you may be online stalking all your attached friends, you may have the urge to block off everybody because you just can’t see the positives in life anymore, because you’re afraid that once you change your mindset, someone or something would definitely bring you back to square one. And it would hurt more. After all, the higher you are, the harder you fall, and the more it would hurt.
Let’s face it, your age doesn’t matter at all. You can be 18, 28 or even 38. You can be 48 and it still doesn’t matter.
Because it is loneliness.
At first you thought finding love would be easy for you too. After all, those seemingly “unattractive” friends of yours are all attached, so what’s the difficulty in it? Eventually you found the perfect one, that one, the one you know you’ve been searching for so long, the one you know is just fated to be with you. She’s perfect for you, and you’re perfect for her.
Or perhaps, that’s what you think.
You decided to get to know her more, and you somehow managed to get her number, you texted her and there was no better feeling in the world than to see her reply. It was a feeling that cannot be described, a mixture of nervousness and fear, anticipation and eagerness. It was unforgettable, to the extent that you’ve had sleepless nights just fanaticizing about how you would progress with her. You think about all the dates you will have, all the cuddles and hugs. You think about how you would hold her hand and treasure her as if she was the only girl in a sea of men. You even think about how many kids you would have with her and all those romantic, albeit cheesy moments that you will have.
But it never goes according to plan.
It doesn’t matter how it went wrong. Perhaps she just decided to leave you hanging and ignore you completely. Perhaps she texted you to let you know that she has no feelings for you whatsoever. Perhaps she fell for another guy. Perhaps.
And after weeks of online stalking, crying over the “what could have beens” or desperately texting her, you gave up. You start to move on. You know you haven’t, and you know you still love her, and your really do, but you forced yourself to move on because you’ve told yourself you’ve had enough of crying over someone who never cared.
But now she’s missing, and there’s a large, gaping hole that you need to fill, that hole where she was once there, where she must be. Forcefully removing her from your heart will only cause it to hurt more.
And so to numb the pain you decided to open out your heart again to others, somehow still believing that love would come to you this time.
But no, instead of waiting for love to come, you went after love instead.
You realise that you are now falling in love with everybody, and I mean everybody. You start to treat every single female you meet as a potential wife/girlfriend. Tall, short, fat, skinny, hot, cool, cute, it doesn’t matter, you like them all. And it’s confusing. You thought you liked that girl from math class, but no, that girl who is in the Students’ Council is the one you like. Remember that girl who looks super cute, the one who smiled at you the other day in the canteen, don’t you like her anymore?
What about her? Your “first love”, have you really given up on her?
And that’s when you realise you actually haven’t moved on at all.
You still miss her. You still love her, even as your heart bleeds.
You would still take a bullet for her, no matter what.
You retreat back into your shell and build walls around yourself. To you that is the only way to protect yourself now, by not showing emotions, by being cold towards others. You question love, you question everything that is love because it is something you have not, and probably will never experience. Deep down you still want love, you need love, and you are love, but now you just don’t show it. You’re unwilling to take the risk of having yet another broken heart but at the same time you know you still want love, it is just confusing that, you feel numb to it all of a sudden.
You tell yourself never to fall in love, never again. Some days you look back at your days with her and the “what could have beens”. Some days you look at your attached friends with equal parts jealousy, sadness and happiness. Some days you chide yourself for seemingly falling in love with yet another person you meet, because you are now confused about love, you are confused about how you actually feel towards people. You have loved so much that love is now but just another emotion. You’ve given so much that you must now find someone to give all that love to just so you can stay alive.
You know deeply that you still want love. You want to love, and you want to be loved.
But you see only hopelessness in your love. You only see how imperfect and flawed you are. You only see how unwanted and rejected you are. You see love as a drug, a drug that leaves you with all your flaws placed neatly in front of you, a drug to remind yourself that nobody needs you, and nobody wants you. Love is a reminder to you that you are never going to be good enough for someone else, and that everything is wrong with you and there’s nothing right about you.
That is why you choose not to love. Even when all of your friends are attached. Because it hurts. Because it only reveals your ugliness. Because you can’t see the happiness and beauty in it anymore. Because it does nothing but harm to you, and to your heart.
But deep in my heart, sincerely, I hope someone would come to you one day and tell you that you’re the best thing that happened to them and in their eyes, you’re perfect. I hope they would love you with all their heart, as much as you loved previously. I hope they would make you discard all your fears and insecurities because you know they love you. I hope because of their love, you would be able to love again, you would be able to embrace your flaws, and love more than ever before.
Because love is beautiful.
And I hope someone in your life would be able to show you that, when the time is right.
Because love is, in its purest form, beauty.
Beautiful because of imperfections.
Beautiful, because it is love.