Everything that scares me about love and why it’s tearing me apart (again)

Posted on April 25, 2015

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I hate love. I fucking hate love.

I’ve never even been in a relationship and it already feels like the universe is giving me an inside joke I’m not part of through that sadistic thing called Love.

Growing up a shy and slightly asocial nerd with more books than friends, I never knew what it’s like to receive serious male romantic attention and fall stupidly in love. I’ve always been the spectator among friends who actually have time to gush over their significant others and call them “baby”, “honey”, or “b3b3h qu0h”. In the whole courtship theatrics, I’ve always had the front seat so I know how it all plays out. It starts out with

1. Innocent flirting, then they go on

2. Talking ’til the morning light, until they go all

3. “Can’t stop thinkin’ bout u baby”, and then

4. “Let’s never be apart, 2gether 4ever”,

5. And then at this stage, something will inevitably fuck things up. Something like,

a. A third party

b. People getting bored of each other

c. They’re just too much for each other idk

d. “It’s not you, it’s me” (which is probably the most bullshit excuse ever)

e. Someone getting pregnant, etc.

I’ve gotten so used to seeing this cycle play out that love almost seems like a shallow stage of life for me. I’ve seen it all from the slightest instances of romantic attention to the courtship tactics to the eventual demise. In the end, there I am, ready with the Designated Comfort Food to listen to Grace go on and on about breaking up with Jason in Math. It’s so repetitive and cliche that it almost entertains me.

From time to time, I have experienced being at the receiving end of romantic attention. However, not one of them (as if I even had that many) went any further. I don’t know if there’s something wrong with me or if there’s just something wrong with me. From time to time, I get this sense of hope that things might go different this time. I’ve always been wrong. Relationships will never stop falling into ruins. Romance is dead. I guess society got a little more self-aware these days with the realization that the romantic notion of “forever” does not exist.

That was me, always so sure of things. Always guarding myself from looking stupidly in love like my peers. That’s the thing that scares me the most: looking stupid. Who wants an insane psycho Taylor-Swift-in-Blank-Space type of girlfriend? No one. The stupidity of getting fixated on a person who will just hurt me in the end just scares me so, so much. I’m scared of getting so fixated (on both person and feeling) that I forget that everything else exists. And when they leave, nothing will make sense anymore. That’s the thing about love and relationships: people open themselves up to this one person and then feel empty and lost when everything ends. It scares me that I can give so much to this person and when everything falls to ruins, I won’t know who I am anymore. I’ll feel stupid for letting them in and fuck up all my deepest, darkest secrets. It scares me that I can get so attached to someone that I won’t know what to do when they leave. The problem is, that’s the thing about life. Everybody leaves.

Another classic love problem that scares me? The unrequited kind. I’m scared of someone meaning so much to me when all I am to them is the go-to person when they’re feeling lonely. It especially hurts when you know they’re just using you to get over someone. God, that sucks. It will be like someone put a magnifying glass over every single one of your insecurities: too boring, too quiet, too weird, too Debbie Downer, not hot at all, etc. It will be like having your self esteem crushed to a million pieces by a tow truck and sold as foot powder to be used by 50-year-old men. It sucks.

This is why it is excruciatingly impossible for me to flirt with anyone. This is why I always go into default friend mode to every guy who gives me slightly a bit more attention. This is why I condemn people who give mixed signals to the tenth circle of hell. This is why I’m so guarded. This is why I have difficulties telling people how I really feel.

Like in every single aspect of adulthood, I was not ready for all of this. I was not ready to burst into a million emotions and overthink everything. I was not prepared to eat my words. I may be prepared to spend the rest of my life as a hermit cat lady, but I was not prepared for all this. I was not ready at all to be like Julia Stiles in that climactic scene in Ten Things I Hate About You where she reads that poem to Heath Ledger (come to think of it, I am close to doing that). So to whoever is crazy enough to actually want to be with me, I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I’m sorry for being too difficult for my own good. I’m sorry for sabotaging potential relationships because of whatever it is that is wrong with me. I’m sorry for always holding back. I’m sorry I have crap self-esteem. I’m sorry for wanting to have no feelings when I actually have too much. And I’m sorry for being too cowardly for writing about it instead of saying it to your face. I’m sorry for me.

So here I am, hoping that this post will get to the right people. I don’t know if they have given up entirely and decided to cut off all ties, but this is what I can do for now because I am too cowardly to do anything remotely smart about it. But I am still (stupidly) hoping for something. Anything. And when it all ends, we can then truly believe that love, love will tear us apart again.

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