Justmehere
Sponsor
Ranty/crabby post ahead. I'm not sure what I need right now or why I'm posting, other than I'm a mess today about this and need a moment to vent? No, I need something different than that. I need to verbalize my very real struggle that seems to pop up this time of year, every year, with the idea and existence of love.
I had a moment today of asking myself if love is even real? -- and I don't think that's my real struggle.
I know love is real. I see it between other people. I know my dog loves me. There are people I love -- with an imperfect but very deep love.
But outside of that? I'm not sure I have ever been or ever could be really loved by another human being. I keep trying to tell myself it's possible. But sometimes, it feels like I'm lying to myself. Sometimes, it feels like I don't even know what love is anymore.
I wrote an essay this time last year about how love is patient, love is kind, etc. I was trying to connect to the reality that when someone is patient or kind (for example) that can be love. In big and small ways, that can be love. Not perhaps deep romantic love, but that's not the only kind of love there is in the world. I was trying to connect to the reality that real love has been shown to me.
But here I am a year later, once again wondering if love is real, and even more so, if it can be really real for me.
Love, and the pursuit of it, sometimes pulls out my foolish side, and perhaps this post is an example of that.
I had a moment today of asking myself if love is even real? -- and I don't think that's my real struggle.
I know love is real. I see it between other people. I know my dog loves me. There are people I love -- with an imperfect but very deep love.
But outside of that? I'm not sure I have ever been or ever could be really loved by another human being. I keep trying to tell myself it's possible. But sometimes, it feels like I'm lying to myself. Sometimes, it feels like I don't even know what love is anymore.
I wrote an essay this time last year about how love is patient, love is kind, etc. I was trying to connect to the reality that when someone is patient or kind (for example) that can be love. In big and small ways, that can be love. Not perhaps deep romantic love, but that's not the only kind of love there is in the world. I was trying to connect to the reality that real love has been shown to me.
But here I am a year later, once again wondering if love is real, and even more so, if it can be really real for me.
Love, and the pursuit of it, sometimes pulls out my foolish side, and perhaps this post is an example of that.