I think the bravest thing one can do is let someone love them.
I think, all of us, or most of us, must feel that there are some parts of us that aren’t lovable.
Some people must feel like only they should know about such “flaws” and feel like nobody should want to love them. Why should anyone else love them for things they can’t even love themselves for, right?
There must be people who actually fear that someone would be willing to actually love them despite all the parts they can’t get explanations for or they don’t want to get explanations because nothing could make you unlovable.
For people who can love that unconditionally and that whole-heartedly, I think true humanity lies in loving someone else in that way.
I think that’s what everyone actually wants in life, the material things are alright, but the real thing surely must be this other person that could make you feel like you could literally die in their arms because of happiness.
Life must be these moments that we are loved in return.
But there must be people who don’t let themselves love others or don’t let others love them because such happiness seems too out of reach to them even if they stretch their hands out and ask for that to the sky.
And to some people who find the possibility of love coming towards them and feel fear instead of happiness, what saves them?
Being alone is not a sin, it’s not pitiful either. Some prefer the only voice that matters to them is the one in their head, but what happens when they want to know whether they’re right or wrong, and they want to ask someone but there’s no one? What about those people who love being alone but sometimes hate it too? What about their potential for love? The people who love others in the silence in which no words are said, and no communication occurs, just painful screams of simple hope that someone understands that they’re not unlovable, but their method of love differs.
If there is any kind of heaven, it must be right here on earth, in those moments we love someone and are loved by someone.
I hope everyone who hasn’t loved someone or hasn’t been loved are happy in their own way. I hope your winter nights are warm and the summer days aren’t lonely. I hope your books or music or your pets or your parents or your siblings or your childhood friends love you so much you can’t quite believe how loveable you are.
We all live in the hope of something or other, being rich, being thin, being a rockstar, president, astronaut, or whatever, let the thing you hope for is being loved deeply by someone.
If you haven’t been loved in the right way or were scarred by the wrong kind of love, I hope you still know that real love never hurts, not in the way you have experienced.
Love heals the wounds it gives, it does not cut deeper. It rejuvenates your soul that starves for the warmth that love brings, like a dried mountain stream smiles when it starts raining in the mountain range.
Let it rain on yourself again. Let yourself get drenched in the shower of love if you ever get a chance. Nothing you can do can make you unworthy of love. If you respect it, it’ll respect you. If you use it to mistreat it, it’ll eventually mistreat you. It is fair.