My heart has always been an empty place of people who have unsure commitments —people who see love as nothing but just a trial-and-error. And maybe that’s why I grew so terrified reopening it because the echoes of my heartbreak kept knocking on my door, the sadness that I drunk myself to sleep with before have their ways of keeping me up awake at night. They are all still here —still wandering to the corners of my fears and heartbreaks. Still giving me newfound lessons to remind me that I should guard my heart.
And I will never forget the love that I almost had, the love that left me wanting more. I remember the love that grew in my expectation of almost having but was never really mine at all. Perhaps, it was the love that broke me so hard I told myself I will never allow it to reappear in my life to break me again. Maybe because I knew what I deserved. I knew the love that fits for me and the love that I am worthy of having. I thought it was him. I thought it was the love that I could keep through the test of time.
But I was wrong.
Perhaps, it was nothing but just a painful ‘almost’ that I dressed with positivity and high anticipations. Maybe I over-read the words he said or took his metaphors as reality. Maybe I just misinterpreted his attention and uphold the idea of having someone who sees me the world identical to my perspective.
Maybe it was just me who broke my heart from expecting
that love should be received on the same weight
just because it’s something that you gave.
