Once upon a time I fell in love and quickly, I became enamored with his definition of love. He found my insecurities and played them to a T. He told me everything I needed to hear. But I never saw anything he ever said. I was left to wonder if he truly loved me because what he told me and what he did wasn’t in balance.
But he said he loved me. So that had to account for something, right?
I finally grew tired of making excuses, for waiting for him to see me as the one he needed in his life. I grew frustrated with putting my all into us when he couldn’t acknowledge there was even a we. I was pouring myself into him but he was like a bucket with a hole in it; nothing I did for him was staying in his heart or mind.
Love or not, this wasn’t right.
I let it go. Finally. I heard that sometimes holding on causes more damage than letting go. I knew this was a fact. But I had some fears about letting him go…what if he got with the next chick and she became everything I wanted to be? What if he loved her right, gave her the love I begged for? I invested so much time into him and I couldn’t imagine all of this time being in vain.
But more importantly, why didn’t he want me? What was wrong with me? I know I’m not the most beautiful, sexy, smart, thick woman in the world, but doesn’t my genuine heart account for something? Doesn’t the passion in my soul make me a little more attractive? Don’t men want someone they can build with? Someone they can exist with outside of the bedroom? Someone they can be proud of? Someone they can trust with their life, heart, children, bank account and laundry? If I’m not good enough for him, will anyone else want me?
I wandered around in my self-pity. Vowed never to be this chick ever again. I would take pride in me, demand my worth and never settle. Determined never to hurt again, the wall I built around my heart was wide, tall and almost impenetrable. It would take real work to get to me. Anytime anyone got too close to me, I could touch the scar on my heart and remember the times I felt worthless.
Now here you are. Someone that saw the beauty in my soul. Someone that wanted to talk, to learn my mind. Someone that saw the scar on my heart, the tears in my eyes and the hurt that I’ve carried around like a blanket…and you still want to love me.
But I can’t. I don’t know what it means to love. Before, with him, he told me that was love and I ended up questioning myself. He told me he loved me and it meant absolutely nothing. I gave him all the love I had to give and it meant nothing. So what makes you different?
“First things first girl recognize who is with you now. Second thing, can’t blame me for how you were treated before I came”
I know that to be true. I know I shouldn’t take my hurt out on you. I know I shouldn’t punish you for what I allowed to happen to me before you. But…I gave away all of my love and now, I don’t have anything left to give.
My bitterness is holding me hostage. My fear is paralyzing me. Take a chance? Maybe you’ll hurt me too. But what if you don’t?