What “love” feels like

Love feels wonderful. It makes you feel like you deserve all the good things in your life despite of your shortcomings. Loves feels inviting. It makes you vulnerable to the people around you that cares and allows you to trust again. Love is limitless. With it, there’s nothing you can’t do. There’s no sky you can’t reach. There’s no dreams that’s too big.

But a love like that has never existed for me.

I thought it did, but most of it was just me being delusional. Most of it was just me hoping that I might mean the world to someone. Or maybe most of it was just my unfortunate luck with those who took advantage of my feelings and my love.

I wish I had at least my family there for me, but truth be told, they were the first to hurt me on so many different levels. And when I tried to find refuge in other people, I was faced with the same pain again. People are cruel. Sometimes people are just a reproduction of what their family have done to them and what their family is like.

Some people don’t understand what a blessing it is to be loved, to be cared for, to matter to someone- especially someone that matters to you. Some people don’t understand how hard it is to be the perfect child and to be happy all the time because you know if you aren’t, it’ll break your family’s heart. So even in the darkest time, you can’t even go to them for comfort. You rather keep up the facade because the pain is easier to bare with than the pain of watching those you love cry.

And I hate that about me sometimes. That I want to run to them crying, but I don’t due to fact that I’m scared. I’m scared because I know if they don’t give me the support I want and need, I will only end up distancing myself from them even more. I’m scared that I’ll have to keep up the act of being a strong person. But if there’s anything I learned in life so far, it’s that even the strongest thing breaks. It’s just a matter of when.

And I’m breaking. My depression erodes away my sanity and my mind, one sadness at a time. And in moments like this, I can’t help but ask myself, “Why doesn’t anyone love me?” I can’t help but scream at the world for making me go through so much. For making me wonder what I ever did to deserve all of this pain.

It just overtakes me. Like a blackhole, sucking me into the void that exists at the bottom of my heart. It’s like I’m trying to walk forward, but I end up cutting off my own leg off cause gods know why? Maybe because I’m a masochistic bitch that just wants to see myself suffer as I try to escape the inevitable.

Maybe it’s because I’m scared that if I move on, there will be nothing waiting for me on the other side. That even then, I will still be empty and still be unloved, and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that. I’m scared that even in my own story, I will continue being the side-character that no one ever pays attention to- that ends up being the bad person every time because I’m misunderstood.

And I’m so tired of being misunderstood by those I care about and love. I’m so tired of being abused by people and having them tell me that it was “love”, that they did it because it was “my fault”, that I made them to do it, that it’s because I wasn’t good enough for make them treat me otherwise.

I’m tired of shouldering other people’s pain and carrying it as my own. I’m just so tired of everything that I cut myself off from my emotions so I could be empty.

I’m tired of having to feel empty in order to not feel pain.

I just want this to stop, but I don’t know how.

My brother once told me that if you hit your bruises over and over again, it will just become numb. And I guess without realizing, I started doing that too. I keep hitting all the bruises people had given me, hoping that maybe one day, I can numb out the pain.

But I wonder, where did their inflicted pain end and where did my self-inflicted pain begin?

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