dum spiro, spero

Shot at love.

As many of you know, I’ve never been in a relationship. The reason: myself.

People usually become irrational at the thought of love. The feeling you get is so powerful; so rich and fulfilling that you can’t help but want more. You want to call someone yours. You want to feel like someone cherishes you beyond the wonders of the world; to feel the butterflies and the tingly sensation riveting through your skin as you see, hear, or speak of that one person. You want to feel loved. And no one blames you for that. But when this feeling arises, you want it so bad that the desire for it alone clouds your mind and all you see is the chance of love. You hope to the point where you take the risk. And after that feeling is over and you realized it wasn’t love, you just leave.

I have always been different in the sense that I don’t let that feeling take over my mind. And please don’t misunderstand, it’s not a bad thing to be controlled by such feelings. It’s great, actually. But I feel like my mind and my heart are in two different worlds - too far to be connected in any way by any feeling. And because of that, I can’t take that risk. Every decision I’ve approached, I think. I let my feelings become second-hand support for what my mind knows is best. I rationalize my choices, think about the consequences and how happy it’ll make me, and then I decide. And although that’s occasionally good, it stops me from taking shots at love like everyone else.

I’ve always wanted to tell all the guys that there is truly nothing wrong with them. They’re wonderful and beautiful in so many ways, and that I really do mean it when I say, It’s not you, it’s me. Because it is. I stop myself from being with you. I push you away, and I don’t know why. When things seem to be going just dandy, I always find something wrong that prevents me from progressing our relationship. Maybe it’s because I know that I want to be with someone for a long time. I want to make memories for years, not throw them all away in a matter of months. I want special. And when I know it’s not possible, or when I find something that stands in the way of that happening, I become afraid and I push you away.

I often find myself regretting it afterwards. After I see you walking away and moving on, I see the great boyfriend in you and I pity the fool in myself that let that greatness walk away from me. But I think to myself that if I couldn’t hold onto you while I could have, then maybe I don’t deserve you.

Maybe I’m just waiting for someone to see through my facade; to fight for me and break the walls I’ve placed up between myself and everyone; to connect my heart with my mind so that I can feel like I have a shot a love. Maybe. Or maybe God has him waiting for me.