is to awaken the love of a woman without the intention of loving her.”
He showed this Bob Marley quote to me when we first started speaking, and I then thought of the men who play, cheat, and steal the hearts of unsuspecting women. Only to feel nothing afterwards but the capture of a new prey.
I knew he wasn't that type of man days after I met him for the first time. His soul was gentle and his words cautionary to reserve himself from me in the slightest sort of way. He second guessed his steps and wanted so badly to feel something, yet once he did, he became too overwhelmed and decided that his life of numbness was more comfortable and familiar. There are still parts of me that hurt because he didn't tell me much. I wanted so badly to just hear his thoughts.
Was he a coward? I don't believe so. I think he simply lost his way with time, used the happiness I gave to him for the wrong reasons. He was unable to balance his overflow of feelings and completely accept mine. It was like giving someone an unfitting gift: a grandmother who receives a motorcycle, or a baby who gets a brand new stationary kit. The receiver has no idea what to do with what he received.
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The abruptness kills me, and the hurt I feel lingers even after I decide I would stop fixating my mind on it. I hurt too much too soon too fast and sometimes I wish I could only forget any of this ever happened. I keep relapsing into a void and I want out. I fucking want out.
I can't focus anymore, and I have to force myself to not think about this when I know I should. That's what's healthy right? I don't know how or why some people deal with emotions in such a passive way. It is not okay to smile even when you're upset; it shows a clear indication of a mental eschewing of the emotions you are supposed to feel.
You have to face yourself some time or another.
This post sounds like a rambling of sorts. Whatever happens, I want to stop hurting, even for a single second. I want it so badly to just go away, because it always seems to find me when I'm at the moment of being alright for a while.
There's something so intense and thrilling and relatable in young love. Yet at times I'd like to experience the stability and grandeur of timeless love, the old kind where there's no second guessing, and the two are at harmony with everything that surrounds them and that which is a part of them. Inside and out. And they revel in it effortlessly, with a sort of grace that young love is only beginning to discover.
