Photo from coolhandluke's Flickr account

That’s what happens when you open your heart to someone, when you’re left on the ground unconscious, awaking alone, with the pain you knew would come. When you choke for the words you cannot speak. When you thought you were permanently broken, when you’d close your eyes and pretend that you weren’t the person you were, the person who kept forcing until it all took her.

You just end up pushing everyone away, everyone who doesn’t seem to fit what you deem ideal for yourself. You do this unconsciously, with the tiniest hope of finding someone who would make you happy the right way; who wouldn’t break your heart. It’d be great to find someone who would have to constantly deal with who you are: the utterly complex and fragile little dreamer.

Every attempt of loving someone after that simply results to failure. Even the slightest heartache is traumatizing. You then build a wall for yourself and peek through, letting the faintest beams of light shine through, still hopeful. When you have feelings, or when those feelings want to grow on their own, you punish yourself. So you tell yourself that it’s best to not feel. Not at all.

You continue living happily; content, without desiring the kind of love everyone else dreams about and endlessly searches for. And you wonder whether or not that’s alright.