Love scares me because
it’s real.
It scares me because I
know it’s full of pain, hurt and sacrifices, and yet everyone wants to have it.
I see it in my friends when they get heartbroken and cry over a guy. How
devastating they feel, the agony of break ups, and the process of moving on and
letting go. It scares me because even after all the pain they felt, they still
choose to love and then the cycle starts all over again. It’s as if they
haven’t learned their lessons.
It scares me because I
learn my lessons from their experiences and it leaves on a stigma every time. I
don’t understand the concept of loving without hurting. Can’t you just love and
be happy without all these terrible consequences coming your way? Is self-love
not enough?
I’m scared of heights
so I’m scared of falling, and as from what I’ve seen, loving someone requires just
that and I don’t think I can do that. I don’t know if I’m capable of baring my
soul to someone. I don’t know if I can be someone’s idea of love either because
I run away from things that I don’t understand. Because, why give myself
confusion that could turn my life in shambles when I can just sit back and do
something I want that could give me peace and calmness?
Love is such a huge
complex thing. It’s not the kind of love I feel for my dog. It’s not the kind
of love I feel for my books. It’s not the kind of love I feel for my family or
friends. They are the closest people to me and they still don’t know me like I
know myself and that alone makes me doubt that I’d meet someone who will.
Love…it’s something
more, and that more scares the living daylights out of me because I don’t know
what that is; because that more is what makes someone stay by your side even
when you’re being difficult. That more is what makes someone choose your
complicatedness over something hassle-free and simple. It’s what makes you
deserving of love. And whatever that is, I don’t think I have it.
And these are the
reasons why I think that love is scary.
