Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
1 Corinthians 13:4
I wonder how it feels to be loved by me, because I must be love.
It was a sad realization to come to when I realized that the only one who’s going to love me the way that I need to be loved is me. I’ve been thinking about the amount of times that I’ve been shitted on by the ones that I love, romantic and platonic and I’m baffled. I can never understand how any one could ever mistreat me. Or why I’m always the one who cares the most, and the one with the strength enough to keep on caring.
Am I too committed?
I feel like I take these unspoken vows in my own mind to be a wife or a parent, and I’m neither and I only have one father so like what am I doing?
I love too hard, and I’m ashamed of it. I love when I don’t even have the means to love, or even when my cup is on E from giving love, I still love.
Show me your love.
I’m sure I’ve seen it before, conditional. Half hearted, qualified, limited, restricted, partial. Feels more like a cat scratch to the face. Yea it’s cute. But it stings a little. I heal, and then I’m right back for more.
My love is on speed dial for some, when they need me I’m right there with an ear, a hand or a shoulder. Anissa Lachelle to the rescue. Then sometimes they don’t feel like talking so I be talking to myself, wasting my breath, messages unread, left on the back burner. Waiting for a time when they feel like giving me love.
I’ve seen your real love.
But given only unto others and I guess I’ll never be them.
Did I do something wrong?
I thought I did it all.
Never enough for most.
Should I condition my love?
Because not everyone is deserving of this and loving this hard leaves me scared, but if I love any less it doesn’t feel right at all.
I just want to know how to love in the right way. And I want to know if the love I am even exists in this world. My cousin told me today that she can’t love no more and that I’m lucky to still be able to love.
Am I the only lover left alive?
My mom always told me that love is a two way street, but then why do I always feel like it’s a one way to a dead end?
I’ve seen love get out of hand, I’ve seen it get used and abused too many times and I’ve lived through it.
How could you use and abuse someone’s love when you too, are love?
I feel like I’ve been searching for my kind of love in others and it pains me to know that even in my best effort it may never be enough for the ones that I choose to love. When I give you my love I just want you to love me, and to choose me. I don’t want you to need me. That’s not the kind of love that I was raised to give, and I wouldn’t give anything that I wouldn’t expect in return.
I don’t want to condition my love.
But I fear I have no choice.
I’m learning to be okay with the fact that not everyone will reciprocate your love, but still I don’t know if that’s okay or not in general or if it’s okay with me.
Now days I take nothing for granted, I’m wise enough to know that good friends fall few and that real love never fades.
I’m a complicated being.
Loving me ain’t easy, it probably would leave you dazed and confused, because when I get hurt I won’t say a word. I left my heart on a page.
I got the kind of love that you’ll take for granted. I’ll stay too long, I’ll give you chances, but when I’m done I’m done. You’ll be reminiscing when I’m gone.
Love me unconditionally, or do not love me at all.