I hate the word bitter. It’s what I never wanted to be. I still have hope for love and relationships, just not for my own. I think it’s me. The sex is always good, but the emotions.... not so much.
I treat love like colds. When I feel it coming on, I do anything to prevent it. Maybe I push men away, but sometimes I think I never let them get close enough in the first place. I don’t have the “one that got away” because they never really was here. I still don’t know whose fault is that. But I’m starting to think its mine. I don’t think I'm bitter though.
Bitter is defined as characterized by intense antagonism or hostility. I been using the word jaded. It sounds prettier. Jaded is defined as dulled or satiated by overindulgence… or my favorite one “worn out wearied out, as by over work or overuse”. I think my love has been wearied. It needs a rest. 8 years of loving so hard you got so tired just kissing the person it felt like you had ran a marathon. Then putting fear aside to care about another who let the same fears you overcame, overcome your relationship… what else can you be but weary?
I stay up some nights thinking about the feeling of love, how I miss it. I wonder if what I miss was even a real reference since I never knew the person I loved. I could be clueless on all matters of the heart. Maybe that’s why it’s heavy now. It has so much in it that I refuse to let out. I may not be able to stop the outpour. Scared to see what’s been locked up in those 4 chambers for the past two and a half years. Every time I start to open the doors a bit, someone does something that slams it closed… and the pain feel like my finger was in the frame. Every time I start to let someone in, I want to tell them please don’t leave, but I’ve seen from other people, that’s what usually makes them go the quickest. I hate when #he looks at me and I feel he can see my soul, not because I’m afraid of what he'll see… mainly because I don’t know myself and I want to know what’s in there. But then, maybe he sees nothing, just two big brown empty circles.
Maybe that’s what scares me the most.