My Predicament with Love.

I need to get this off my chest.

I have a difficulty with the concept of love.

The idea of loving someone and them loving me back is one that I continuously struggle with. I have found myself in this situation throughout all of my relationships.

The simplicity of this predicament is that, I have never been sure if I truly loved someone back. This troubles me, as I find myself constantly debating if the emotions I feel is love, or guilt. Guilt of not loving someone the way I think I should.

My unbearable dilemma is like a curse. One where I can easily spot solutions in everyone else’s relationships, but my own. In fact, one could say that I am psychic about the longevity of relationships.

Yet, I find myself baffled when my relationships end.

Even then, I am never sure if I am happy it ended or heart broken. I have concluded that love, is something I will never understand. In every relationship I find a problem; a root that leads to our downfall.

Foreshadowing.

Shakespeare was always good at foreshadowing. He made the hamartia of every character clear within the first few scenes of a play. I could always spot them. Or maybe, I never did spot them on my own. Teacher’s were exceptional at spoiling a book before reading it. That’s the problem. We are taught to know things before the test. Or before we start reading a book. I never learned about love before jumping into a relationship.

My parent’s marriage isn’t an ideal example either.

My father cheats, and my mother is a difficult woman. The sole reason they stay together is for thier 6 children. There is no love. I guess you can say my idea of love is skewed. So who else can I look at for love?

Movies maybe.

I do enjoy rom-coms. Honestly, they are one of my favourite movie genres. Everyone enjoys a rom-com once in a while.

Especially the ones that don’t make you cry. Rom-coms that make you cry shouldn’t even be called rom-coms at all, they are dramas. Which means every rom-com I watch is a drama.

Why? Because I always find myself curled up in a pathetic fetal position, with two waterfalls gushing out of my eyes.

Every. Single. Time.

Rom-coms are not the problem here. It is my inability to be certain about love. I am diagnosed with Uncertain Love Disorder, otherwise know as, U.L.D.

Yes, I made that term up. And yes, I self-diagnosed myself. I don’t need a doctor or a psychiatrist to tell me what I already know: I do not trust myself to fall in love. The idea of falling in love, almost seems like an urban myth.

Love to me, is a tragedy. It is the one thing, that scares the living shit out of me. When I think of love, I imagine the Gambian beach.

Fajara beach, in particular.

The sun, comforting me. Although shaded by it, never once did I not feel its warmth on my skin. It was liberating.

Rebellion at its finest.

I had sneaked out of my house to meet a boy underneath a tree. We walked to the beach together, and I found myself not able to look into his eyes. That was the moment I realized I had problems with intimacy. His eyes would pierce my soul with love. I knew, just by the way he looked at me, that he loved me. I memorized his eyes. When I think of him, I see his eyes looking at me.

Loving me.

Looking at me in a way that I could never look at him.

Depressing isn’t it? I find that now as I am older, I long to be looked at that way again. Not necessarily by his eyes, but in a similar fashion. Looked at with love.

The irony is, I don’t know if I would look back at that person the same way. Yet when I think of love I think of eyes. As if that moment defined what love was to me.

Crazy, I know.

It barely makes sense to me either. But if it does make sense, I congratulate you for seeing something that I cannot.

I do want to love. I really do want to just love someone without questioning anything. I question my love all the time, which tears me apart. It’s like a mental dilemma that I could easily stop. Instead, I allow it to make decisions. In reality, it’s not easy. Nothing is. But I do want to try.

I find myself trying really hard to love. Yet, I question the extent of effort I do to love someone.

Shouldn’t love come easy?

I can sense my naiveness with love. Being 20 years old, I know there is much I still need to learn. With that said, I welcome love and it’s many lessons it has to offer.

One day when love comes knocking at the gates of my heart, I will welcome it willingly.

I have been in an unbalance state for a while. Time to get back.

 

 

 

©aishaadams2018

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