Is my perception of love f*cked?

It’s 11:17 pm here in Singapore, and I’m seated at the kitchen table with my legs propped against the opposite chair. The fan is blowing directly at me, my hair is wet, and nestled on my right side is a glass of wine with a few cubes of ice. I’m blasting an r&b playlist while typing this out.

I don’t know why, but I feel urged to write.

Just a couple hours ago, I was chatting with my housemate over a big pot of chicken adobo I had whipped up. When I learn a dish, I make it until I’ve perfected it. This was pot #4.

We chatted about…well, love. I told her that I missed that feeling of comfort and reliance—there is the wonderful feeling of knowing you have someone to come home to, to crawl into his arms, and feel safe to say anything on your mind without judgement. I’ve always prided myself on being independent, head strong, and tenacious. I was and am a go getter, and I’ve always hated depending on other people, but sometimes I think it’s come at a cost.

I feel like I’ve developed a heavily barricaded exterior with thorns—in some ways, I’ve grown cold. I refuse to let most people in, though many feel comfortably close to me and tell me their deepest, darkest secrets. I suspect it’s because I am a good listener, but I don’t think anyone truly knows me. The real me. I only show certain parts to people I trust, and even then, it’s not the complete picture. I guess it’s a defense mechanism of protecting my inner self from being hurt. I’ve dated great guys, but I don’t trust them nor get to that point where they see the real Emily, the raw emotional person with all her ugly bits. Is it possible to find someone who will love all those parts of me? I don’t know.

Because of this, I feel like I refuse to let love in. I just don’t trust it anymore.

There is pain in the great dismay of realizing this person you’ve invested in doesn’t love you like how you’ve loved him. There is pain in knowing that someone you love can pass away so suddenly, just like that. There is pain in seeing someone give up on you as a person, and as a partner. There is pain in being disappointed in the lack of spark and value alignment.

I don’t know why, but writing this makes me sad. Not dramatically upset, but it’s a shuddery, sad sigh nestled in the back of my heart. I know my heart can be full when it wants to be, bursting with love, friendship, and happiness with the people I’ve surrounded myself with, but there’s a part of me that feels like love is f*cked. When I love, I love hard. It’ll feel like the sunshine embracing the earth on a new day, warm and abundant.

Don’t get me wrong—my life is full of abundance. I am happily where I am, but that part of me is worried. Have we gone too far back? Have I completely lost that part of me that can be loved and wants to be loved? Can we learn to love again?

I too want to find my person.