.

In my desperation to feel emotions that I thought I didn’t have anymore; in my desperation to feel these emotions, these feelings, I had my ego bruised. And it felt worst than a heartbreak, actually. Because I thought I had gotten to that point where I felt I was comfortable enough to open up and allow somebody in. Cause I thought I had gotten to that point where, I thought I was strong emotionally to be able to handle any jabs, any hurdles only to be stopped in my tracks by a mere response dripping in nonchalance.

You see, I am an addict. An addict of love; the feeling of falling and being in love fascinates me and ensnares my soul. When I got my heart broken a year ago, I absolutely thought that was the end for me. I thought it was over. I practically lost myself during that phase in my living and it took every ounce of my strength to pull myself out of that rut.

 A year later, here we are, again, at the beginning of another episode.

After guarding my precious blood pumping organ, and protecting it even from my own folly, I felt my walls start to crumble; because someone was tugging at my strings. I let them tug. I let them tug because I liked that feeling, because at that point I was elated, because there, I knew I wasn’t dead inside. I let my guard down, so fast, that by the time I knew it, I was trying to pick up what little piece was left of my heart.

How did that happen? How did I not see that coming? How? How? How?

It was then, I realized that, I had guarded myself way too much; to the point that I deprived myself of feeling. In the process of protecting myself from hurting, I had created a loop hole which allowed for me to be hurt. Because when I experienced the tiniest bit of emotion, the flood gates opened and drowned me; blocking all sense of reason.

That loop hole shamed me. It shamed me because I thought… I thought I was strong enough. I thought I had gotten to a point in my existence where I could face these feelings head on. But you see… I enjoyed that shameful feeling, albeit fleeting. It opened up that sense of longing that was tucked away under the blanket, like a baby put to bed. It made me long for the days when I would wake up to a message. The days where I knew, somewhere, someone was thinking about me and experiencing the same pitfalls in their stomach. 

I want those days back.

Scared is not a good enough word to describe the feeling I battle whenever the thought of seeing anyone, with the intention of having a romantic relationship crosses my mind. Yet still, I long for that. This war of emotions, majority of the time, leave dark patches of depressed feelings all over my brain. And these feelings go ahead to cement that fear that I have been battling with for almost a year.

Love in and of itself, is a luxury I cannot afford, but I feel I have every right to own. But then again, I’m in this state of mind where the only things that concern me at my age are CONSISTENCY, STABILITY, RESPECT and LOYALTY. If you cannot afford to give me these, keep moving. 

This post first appeared on redhairedgurrl

xo