I envy people who can love easily or those who can love at all.
They say that everyone can fall in love, but not everyone can stay in it.
It’s like a boat filling with water.
Some drown in it, some jump ships when they get scared, but some keep swimming until their lungs give out because they love the water of the ocean that much.
I’m afraid of water so I don’t even think of getting on a boat. It’s not a fear of death, but the fear of living alone in the middle of the ocean without sinking that scares me.
These people that can tell someone they love them, I envy that they say it so effortlessly as if it doesn’t implicate that they’re giving them a free pass to break them when they leave.
I envy these people that are so strong that they don’t fear being torn down in the name of love.
I envy such courage that they possess. The courage to open yourself to someone else, to let them watch you undress yourself of all your secrets and thoughts you had since you became conscious of the world and your place in it.
I’m envious of these people that hold hands like they’re binding their souls together, what amazes me is that they hold on even with the fear that one day the same hand will withdraw itself when they reach for it.
I envy such strength of character.
These people that tell someone they mean the world to them, and have the strength to function when their world turns away and leaves them on another deserted planet in another galaxy. I envy such strength to carry on with hope that someday love will find them again.
These people that overcome disappointments from their lovers like they’re pebbles on a beach, I envy such loyalty that stems from love.
These people that forgive so easily if you sincerely apologize instead of turning you away and cutting all ties at once. I envy such a bonding. Though they say anyone can love, but I don’t think that’s true. Some people are just meant to notice it from far away. Some people are just meant to read about it in books and watch it in movies, for some people it can’t exist outside these fictional boundaries.
It’s not because they’re unloved, or they are alone, but it’s because they don’t know how to reciprocate it or even where to begin.
When you’ve spent your life, building your strength to just survive the week, the month or the year, you hardly develop the need to love someone.
How can you love someone else when you have a hard time loving yourself? They say that people can make you love yourself. But I don’t think that’s true either.
The only person who can change my mind about myself is me, but people get used to living without something, and then finding it seems like a routine to them.
Love should be more than a routine, I think.
What do people like me, who can’t lose control of their life, do when they meet someone who threatens that control you need over things?
People suggest to let go and just “fall” in love but if I’m gonna fall, I’m gonna die. Sometimes for people like me, the opposite of love isn’t hate but fear. Things are seldom so easy as it is in movies and books.