I Loved A Man Who Didn’t Know How To Love At All

I’ve been a fool, but it’s over now.

I met this guy who acted as if he had everything figured out. I met him at his worst — that I could say. He acted as if there was something missing in his life despite having it all.

I didn’t believe in love and I wasn’t the type of person who believed people so easily. I wasn’t the type of person who would love so freely without any doubts at all.

But I saw the sadness. I saw the void, the emptiness.

And for some reason, I wanted to know why. I wanted to know more.

I listened for days, weeks, even months for his same old stories. He kept telling me that he had everything in his life, but somehow he still felt like something’s missing.

That’s how they always are — they’ll act as if you can fill the void.

I knew he just wanted to get me. He wanted to get my interest so I would want him; I loved that attention. I loved the effort. I loved the lies.

It took me so long to finally love him and accept that at some point, I’d have to fall in love with someone. It was inevitable.

I made myself believe that this would be the first and the last time I would have to open up. I wouldn’t stay guarded anymore and I would let all my walls down because it would be worth it.

I believed that maybe the love that I kept denying everyone else could fulfill the emptiness I saw in him.

So the bottled up emotions I’ve kept intact for years finally broke free, and sadly, I gave them away to a man who didn’t know how to love at all.

A man who only knew how to love himself and those who benefited him.

A man who only cared about what was good for him.

I was angry at first. I didn’t know that loving someone could hurt this bad. I can’t blame myself for trying, though.

At least I tried.

I tried to open up. I tried to bring my guard down. I tried to love.

Who am I to complain when I don’t even know what love really is in the first place, right?

It’s just sad that I had to learn the hard way. It’s sad that it’s true that when you love someone, you defend them from everyone who dares to judge them. You still think that a rainbow shines out of their fucking ass even when all they do is hurt you. Kill you. Exhaust you.

It’s sad that you still wish them the best and you still feel sorry for them for not being able to stay. Because how could you stay when they don’t even know how to love you right or how to love you at all?

I felt sorry for not being the one who stayed by his side. I felt sorry for giving up. I felt sorry for being hurt.

But I also felt sorry for myself, for the hopes and dreams I shattered because I wanted to fix a broken man.

I felt sorry for my hands for holding the wrong ones. I felt sorry for my lips for kissing all the lies. I felt sorry for my body for acting so tough and dodging all the bullets directed at me. I felt sorry for my mind for torturing it with all the positive thoughts that weren’t even real. I felt sorry for my eyes for seeing all the good and ignoring all the bad.

And most of all, I felt sorry for my heart. I wanted love so much that I didn’t even care if it would hurt me.

I’m a mess now. But tomorrow and the following days, I know I’ll be better.

And from this I realized that maybe the love I kept denying everyone else is all the love I need.