I have always been a person that loves deeply. I let my emotions guide me - whether it's to watch the sunset or to the edge of the cliff. It was the same kind of love to most people, be it a family member or my friends or boys, there's a certain standard of care that I tend to give to others, rooted from the deeply and sometimes forgotten childhood trauma of having no one caring about what or how I feel. From that point on, I think since the 2nd grade, I have learned to give a certain standard of care and emotions to other people - trying to understand and see what they're going through from their point of views, understanding the humanity that exists within the choices they did and sympathising with it.
That level of love translates to the way I love boys. To give and give and give until I hit the point of drainage - losing myself alongside it. I learned to not have any expectations of the love I give returned, as there is no ways for me to control others' actions. Learning to give without expecting anything to return. Finding strength in the kindness and love I bear as though it wasn't a burden.
At one point in time - I was crushed by the weight of the love I have for others. It was an emotion that was so big, so heavy. I think personally its the strongest emotions that exists in this world. I was scared by it, by the consequences of carrying it. I was scared by the unknown in whether there were love out there for me that was as big as the love that I carry.
At one point in time - I hated love. I hated the fact that because I love so deeply, I hurt deeply as well. I hated the fact that there are some people out there that are undeserving of the love that I give, whether I wanted to give it or not. I was at a position where my love was brimming to the lid, unable to close it. I tried and tried to hold the dam so the love doesn't overflow because I wanted to achieve things for myself first - not wanting to give the love I have been collecting for years and years to be given to the wrong person.
But life hits me right where I didn't want it to, slowly cracking the dam until an unmistakable wave of the love I had overflowing come pouring out, drowning all other sanity and logic I possess. I tried to swim above the waters but it was quite literally drowning me - losing all the common sense I have been so proud of all my life. I wasn't - and still am not - sure about whether the person I am giving all my love to was deserving of it.
A showcase of my bad luck, and most likely my karma, they weren't. Imagine the amount of love that I poured so carelessly despite trying my hardest to not let it, go to waste, and I am just left in the middle of all this hurt and the remains of this love that I so carelessly gave away. I was hurt. So hurt. I still am hurt. I still am trying to understand how to control this very strong emotion I possess.
So I hated it. I hated the fact that despite the strength it gave me, it made me weak as well. It made me want to crawl into my bed and close my eyes without ever opening it again. It made the world lose its colours. The stars doesn't shine as brightly. It made me want to die.
So now I am wary of it. I'm wary of the facade of happiness it puts out without a slight showing of the massive hurt lurking behind it. I'm wary of the amount of love I give out - not trusting to be betrayed by my heart ever again.
I'm wary of not ever feeling a love like mine, ever.
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