Words are poison.
Words are the cure.
Words are empty promises and hopes of joy.
We always tell the people what we want to hear but we never tell them how we really feel. I guess it’s how we cope up with the reality. Masking the truth with little white lies we tell ourselves, which then ends up as our reality.
One of my favorite quotes from C.P. “this only looks like love.” Yes, it looks like it. It feels like it. But how do we know if it really is love? We fall into this idea that when you feel this connection, soul, lust, intellect, humor –it is indeed, love.
Love they say lasts forever. It is eternal. It is unwavering. Love is. We can love a person and never show it, never be with that person, never get to tell them. But we do. We still do. Unreciprocated.
We can be with someone for 5, 10, 15 years and fall out. We can meet someone and decide that you want to make it last more than it should be. Tell me, which one is love?
Is it when you put the other person’s happiness than your own? Is it when you include that person in all of your plans? Is it when you decide that “this is it”? But what if “that person” decided not to be “your person” anymore? You ask yourself, did he/she really loved me?
The problem with us, yes, us females is that society have imposed this biased thing about love and how to love and if we move against it, would definitely raise some brows. And I think it’s double-standard and just messed up. Love is not supposed to hard. It’s the most natural feeling.
But I think you can never fully love someone without falling in love with yourself first. Self-love is more important for me to be honest. It doesn’t mean you care more about yourself but it is having a better understanding abour yourself. Of what you want, need and how you want your life to pan out. It’s not being selfish but it’s giving away only what you think you can give.
At this point in my life, I am still struggling to love myself. I am working on it and I think I can love someone better if I love myself more.