What it feels like not to be loved

I wish I was writing you a love story straight from my dreams. And believe me, since I've grown up, I don't desire a fairytale love. In fact, not being loved in return has taught me a lot about what love truly is. So, come with me past the butterfly fields and let's get down the real rocky dirt path of love.

What does it feel like to not be loved?

Firstly, let me clarify what I mean about "not being loved". I mean that I'm not loved in the way that I want to be loved. In one light, that may make me look like a selfish person. On another hand, at this very moment, you could be witnessing me gaslight myself in broad daylight by making small how difficult it is to be on the receiving end of a love that is too selfish to evolve into the love that takes care of me and keeps its promises.

So which is it?

I can only speak for myself and I love myself (that speaks for myself). And I love the way that I love myself.

Do I deserve anything less than at least the love that I give myself? I think not.

Will we always get the love we think we deserve? I think not either.

Families don't always love us the way we want them to but they sure do love us. I think what sucks the most about missing the love you want is that you chose this love. Whether you knew how it was beforehand or not. I chose this love. And everyday it still stings a little like a ding on your knee.

But that's the funny thing about love. Love doesn't think too much about what it does not have. It thinks more about what it does have. Sure, I love myself and I take care of myself but would I be ok without this person in my life? I sure would. So am I ok without the love that I want?

Also, yes.

Where it gets a little tricky is within marriage. Especially if you're the type of person who wants to honor their commitment. I made this promise to the person I married and love keeps its promises. So, if you don't love me the way that I want you to, love says "That's ok. I'll lift you up in any way that I can, when I can, for as long as you'll let me because I love you." That's literally what love means. Love isn't an emotion. It's a character trait. (Disclaimer: This is within the context of a healthy relationship.)

Whoa.

Love, huh?

What a kicker. What a dumb little kicker.

But, that's what love is. So, yes, I am not loved. I am not loved the way that I want to be loved. I am not loved in the way that says "I'll lift you up in any way that I can, when I can, for as long as you'll let me because I love you." I still hope this won't be the way that it is forever, but that's the way that it is right now. And I'm whole enough to make it through each day without it. One day at a time.

And whole enough to try to appreciate and learn about the love that I am receiving, even if I sometimes miss it because it speaks whole other language that is only spoken by my person. Alone.

So, by the definition of "love" given above, I'm not loved. And it sucks.

But I am loved. And love says that is good enough for now and my love for myself tells me that I'm good enough and sooo good enough to love even without love.

And finally, in an effort to say what I came here to say; what does being unloved feel like?

Being unloved (in the way you want to be loved) feels a bit like emptiness. Maybe because you save this space in your soul and in your body for this person but they stay precisely just outside the boundaries of that space. They are so close yet a million miles away. And maybe that's where the emptiness comes from. Because you're preserving that space in the hope that one day, they'll occupy it. But, every day passes and they rarely, if ever at all, they do.

Being unloved (in the way you want to be loved) for me also feels like a quiet fire. It's doing so much damage because no one can hear it. No one can see it yet and one person can. But he's looking away. Sometimes they stare straight at the fire, perhaps mesmerized for whatever reason and they... just freeze. They don't call the fire department and they don't grab a hose. They just stand there. And the fire continues to consume everything it contains and everything that tries to contain it. Yet still, quietly.

Being unloved (in the way you want to be loved) feels like deep sea blue. Not the pretty daytime type of deep sea blue but the midnight sea that hides creatures in depths you've never seen. The deep sea blue you can't come back from. It just swallows you whole and no one ever sees you again.

Being unloved (in the way you want to be loved) is like a story that doesn't quite end the way you expect it to. But it's sold a billion copies and it feels like everyone is reading it and having a great time, except you. But that's not true because many of us will go unloved. And we have to be ok with that. It's just true.