Falling in Love with a Broken Girl
The Million Questions that Plague Me
Is it selfish to fall in love? Is it selfish to expect someone to be there for you? Is it selfish to want to love someone? What if they don't want my love? All I want to do is kiss him and hold him. I want to stroke his face and maybe give him a massage. I want to tell him I care about him. That I can’t think of anyone else but him. I want him and only him… What if he doesn’t want me? What if it's unreciprocated?
I always wanted to save myself. I always wanted to be able to take care of myself. Not because I want to but who else is going to do it?
I think I've been strong my whole life and sometimes I feel… apathetic. Like I don't feel anything. Like right now. I feel heavy. I feel absolutely nothing. Am I simply addicted to emotions? Am I addicted to feelings?
Are feelings bad? Is it bad to have feelings? Is it wrong to want to be happy? I'm so used to not being happy and expecting nothing — a part of me... slips into this... apathetic and emotionless state, where I am numb. Like right now. I am as numb as it gets. I don't know what I want or what I need. I don't know what I should want or need. I can't even articulate what I want or need because I'm afraid of saying it out loud. Afraid of finally putting myself in a position to get disappointed. People always disappointed me. People always annoyed me.
Who is going to be there to love me?
I can smile. I can pretend to be fine and happy. I can survive with nobody. I been surviving with nobody my whole life.
I remember when I was a child my mother said something to me that made me sad. She said I was most likely always happy. She praised me for it. Was it true? I don't know. Little girls don't think about happiness or unhappiness. They just are, they just do.
It was a stupid machine in some dingy store. It was a 'fortune" reading machine. You put a quarter in and spin it and it lands on something. It was strange though because the machine landed on "Never Satisfied" when I push my thumb print on it. How ironic. I just remember looking at my mother's face and sensing her disapproval and dissatisfaction with my unhappiness. Which I never understood. Was I unhappy? Why did she make me feel so bad about being unhappy?
I think I was always happy on the outside but on the inside I always felt things intensely but never said anything. She never catered to my emotional needs anyways. Emotions were weak to her, she’d scorn me for being so selfish. I needed to be "tough."
Not being able to express my feelings made me angry. Anger was an emotion my mom didn’t mind. I would rage and yell and lash out whenever I wasn’t “numb.” She laugh in amusement at this. Anger wasn’t weakness to her. The anger I felt was because I was hurt. It hurt me to not say anything. To ignore my emotional needs made me angry. It was the equivalent to a slap to the face. In fact, I wanted a slap to the face. I wanted pain. I wanted her to hurt me because maybe then I would feel something other than numb or angry.
Frowning at me for being sad when I was just a child left an ugly mark on me. Frowning at me for being disappointed and let down, when I honestly didn’t know anything other than play. A lot of time, the feeling of being disappointed and let down was because no one paid much attention to me. I don't even pay attention to me. I'm in love with a boy but I can't feel an ounce of that love for him because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of loving him.
I know I do. I know I care about him but the rest I have no clue about.
I don't know how to comfort you. I don't know how you comfort me. A part of me is so frightened by the expectations. I feel overwhelmed by it. I can cater to other people’s need like nothing… but the opposite is where it scares me.
I never really shared my emotions or feelings with another person unless of course... that person didn't care. I did spend endless nights crying to my best friend about how misunderstood and unhappy I was. She sat there silently, tears streaming down her face. We kind of just both wallowed in self—pity together. She never came over to rub my back or tell me it was alright. I think I desperately wanted that. We were both broken that way.
Even when we did hang out. It was shallow. We laugh and talk about endless details. We sure as hell laughed a lot. I always felt like I was burdening her when my mind would go to deeper topics like when I'd mention anything I wanted to get off of my chest. Which… I had a lot. It was a lot easier writing or texting it.
It never did help me to vent to people. It never helped me in anyway. People were unreliable. They couldn't be trusted. They didn't care. Why should I care?
I can’t even describe the amount of guilt I feel sometimes wondering if I’m a selfish person or not. I know I always been very selfless. I always felt the endless desire to love and nurture things. Be it a dog or a baby. I could hold them whenever they cried and cater to their needs so easily, and it felt good for me to do this. It was easy peasy lemon squeezy.
The opposite I have never done. Whose shoulder have I sobbed into? Who held me whenever I cried? Who reassured me everything would be alright? I recall it was always me that did that. Sure, it made me emotionally intelligent. I was always the one crying alone in my room and writing in diaries.
I just can’t fathom somebody doing that for me. It hurts my heart too because I know what love is. I am in love! I want to love my boy, but emotions don’t come easily to me.
As an adult now I have had heart-to-heart talks with my mother. When she hugs me and holds me, I abruptly stiffen and want it to end. I can’t surrender in people’s arms without feeling like I’m losing some part of myself.
It's so hard to fall in love with somebody when you never knew such things existed.