I know I said that I love Love, and I hate Love. Right now I am not sure what to make of her. We all have loved, and a dear friend of mine says that I am too young to know love. I don’t know if this statement applies to everyone, but I’ll be damned if what I felt multiple times was not love.
My first love was at an early stage of 12 years old. And no, it was not smitten, or a haze that I felt might be love, I would have done anything for this boy. He was all that was in my mind. I forgot the outside world. I neglected my friends for this one boy, who ended up ripping my heart out. The experience was horrid. For months I sulked in my room, and the worst part? I don’t remember any of those months. That’s how bad I was hurt.
I loved again, when I entered into my first year of high school. This boy was older than me, but he loved me dearly. I could not imagine my life without him, and he put me through Hell, as I have done to him. We committed to each other, a bond that we swore to never break. But all good things must come to an end, and this one did. But we forever know, that no matter how far apart we grow, we will always have that spark.
It’s easy for me to fall, and I did one last time. I met him, and I looked straight into his eyes and I was lost. I couldn’t think of anything but him. But, knowing from my previous relationships with friends and boyfriends, you must not cling. So I distanced myself, as hard as it was. He strung me along in his own, sick, twisted way. But I couldn’t leave him alone. Then, without knowing, he ripped my heart out of my chest and danced on it. I protected him, and I still do, whether he knows it or not.
I’m afraid to fall again. I’m afraid for people to fall for me, because I may not feel the same. Falling in love brings, to me, a feeling of panic. I know at that moment that in the future I will be crying. I will weep and mourn. Do I distance myself? Do I take back from society and sit in my room, reading romance novels, wondering what could be?
In the meantime I will clean my room and tend to household chores, maybe walk on the treadmill. For now, what lies ahead is uncertain, and frankly, it scares the fuck out of me. I don’t want to be hurt again.
And I think once again, I’m falling.