I think I’m scared of love now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn’t think I would ever say that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a time when I thought love was supposed to be one of the simplest things in life. You love someone, you care about them, you stay when things get difficult, and you try to make it work. Maybe I was naive. Maybe I still am.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I don’t think I see it the same way anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sometimes I wonder why I had to be the one suffering when I know I gave my best for someone to stay. I did everything I possibly could. I tried to understand. I tried to be patient. I tried to ignore things that hurt me because I thought some things were worth tolerating when you genuinely love someone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And somehow, I still ended up feeling like I was the one who had to sacrifice everything. That is not what I thought love was supposed to be. Love is supposed to go both ways.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I also know I wasn’t perfect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I know I’ve been a burden sometimes. I know I’ve done things that hurt them a lot. There were moments when I said things I shouldn’t have said or behaved in ways that probably made things harder than they already were. I couldn’t be that one perfect person they might have wanted me to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I’m only human. I never claimed to have everything figured out. I just tried my best with what I knew and what I had at the time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe my constant complaining about life became too much. Maybe hearing me talk about the things that were going wrong made them tired of me. Maybe they expected me to be better than I was after knowing me for so long. Maybe I wasn’t the person they thought I would become.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe I simply wasn’t enough for them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’ll never know, and that is one of the hardest parts. Not knowing exactly when someone stopped wanting you around. Not knowing which conversation changed something. Not knowing whether there was something you could have done differently, or whether the ending was going to happen no matter what you did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don’t hate the person I loved for talking about us with her friends. I understand that people talk to the people they trust. I probably would have done the same. What I can never respect is when other people start having opinions about your relationship that are no longer just opinions, when those opinions start affecting what happens between two people who are supposed to be figuring things out together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That happened in my case.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I will probably never hate that person. I don’t want to carry that kind of hatred around with me. But I also can’t pretend I respect what happened, or the role they played in something that was supposed to be between two people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Somewhere in all of this, I lost something too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I lost my self-respect. I lost every single piece of it trying to convince someone to stay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I kept trying to prove that I was worth staying for. I kept explaining myself. I kept hoping that if I said the right thing, did the right thing, changed the right thing, or just tried a little harder, maybe they would choose me again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Looking back, that is something I know I will regret for the rest of my life. Not because I loved someone, but because I let myself believe that I had to beg someone to stay in order for my love to mean something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wish I had understood earlier that wanting someone to stay and convincing them to stay are two completely different things.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
2025 started with happiness. For a while, I felt like I was just being a normal human being again. I was happy. I had something to look forward to. I thought maybe this time things would stay that way, that the happiness was going to last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The thing I am most scared of happened. Not once, but for the second time in my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe that is why this time felt different. The first time hurt. This time made me question myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I keep looking back and asking myself what I could have done with all that time if I hadn’t spent so much of it chasing something that never really wanted to stay. I could have learned a little more maths, which is probably funny because maths is still one of the subjects I fear the most. I could have studied more for my exams. I could have prepared better. I could have done things that might have helped me move further in life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I didn’t. I chose what I thought mattered at the time, and that is something I have to live with.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don’t regret caring about someone. I don’t think caring is something to be ashamed of. What I regret is forgetting that I was also supposed to matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe that is what scares me about love now. It is not simply the possibility of losing someone. It is the possibility of giving someone everything again and realizing, too late, that you were the only one doing it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don’t want to become someone who stops caring because of what happened. I don’t want to hate people. I don’t want to wish an entire lifetime of suffering on someone just because they hurt me. I can’t sit here and pretend I wish terrible things on them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Still, I would be lying if I said there isn’t a part of me that hopes they eventually meet someone who treats them exactly the way they treated me. Someone who takes them for granted. Someone who makes them give everything and still makes them feel like it wasn’t enough. Someone who makes them understand what it feels like to lose every bit of yourself trying to keep something alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hope no one has to go through what I went through. But a part of me hopes the people who did this experience something that makes them understand it. Not because I want revenge, but because I want them to understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don’t know if experiencing the same thing would actually change them. Maybe it wouldn’t. But at least they would know how it feels. Perhaps that is all I’ve wanted from the people who hurt me. Not revenge, just understanding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I still don’t know what I’m supposed to think about love after all of this. Part of me still believes in it. Another part of me is standing at the door telling me not to go anywhere near it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That is the strange thing about getting hurt. You don’t necessarily stop wanting the thing that hurt you. You just become afraid of wanting it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe that is where I am now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I still want to believe that love can be something good. I still want to believe that two people can choose each other and keep choosing each other without one person having to beg the other to stay. I still want to believe that love can feel safe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I just don’t know if I’m ready to trust it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I know I made mistakes. I know I hurt someone too, and there were probably moments when loving me wasn’t easy. Maybe I complained too much. Maybe I expected too much. Maybe I wasn’t the person they needed me to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I can accept all of that. What I can’t accept is the idea that because I wasn’t perfect, I didn’t deserve to be treated with care.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wasn’t perfect. I was human, and I tried. Maybe I didn’t always try in the right way, but I tried.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These days, I have a different prayer. I don’t ask God to give me someone. I ask Him that if something is not meant for me, please don’t let me become attached to it in the first place. Don’t let me spend months waiting for something that was never going to stay. Don’t let me build a future around something temporary. Don’t let me give my whole heart to something that was only meant to teach me a lesson.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe I can survive heartbreak. I already have. What I’m not sure I want to do again is spend all that time convincing myself that something is going to last when, deep down, it never belonged to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe I’m still scared of love. Maybe I always will be a little.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I just hope that one day, when love comes back into my life, it won’t feel like something I have to chase. Maybe it will simply stay, and next time, I won’t have to lose myself just to be loved.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I think I’m scared of love now. I didn’t think I would ever say that. There was a time when I thought love was supposed to be one of the simplest things in life. You love someone, you care about them, you stay when things get difficult, and you try to make it work. Maybe […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":117,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"slim_seo":{"title":"I Think I'm Scared of Love Now","description":"I think I'm scared of love now. I didn't think I would ever say that. There was a time when I thought love was supposed to be one of the simplest things in life"},"_slim_seo_primary_term_category":0,"_slim_seo_primary_term_post_tag":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-115","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-i-think"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=115"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":116,"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115\/revisions\/116"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/117"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=115"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=115"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/unheard.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=115"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}