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I don’t know why, but as I write these words at the moment, I felt the veins of my heart squeezed, more crippled.
I guess I got tired.
I guess I got tired of loving.
I guess I got tired for what I thought was my calling.
I met you at the most unexpected season of my life. I met you when I was not expecting someone to enter my life. And when you did, I trembled. Maybe because you reminded me of my past love, but never did I expect that you too, would remind me eventually of my past pains.
Our story started to be so vibrant. Our interests seemed to always align. Our communications were unbreakable. We were so happy, even if back then, I was just guessing who I was to you. Until one day, you boldly called me and told me that I was special. I was shocked because I knew it was beyond my expectations. However, my lips were also beyond control that I told you how special you are to me too.
I am beyond thankful for the special friendship that we have. As much as I don’t want to be hurt again, I tried to define it as something that is centered on friendship. However, no matter how I reiterate this to my mind, I can’t help but expect for something romantic, which eventually made me get hurt by the fact that my expectations are nothing but vanity.
I knew in my heart that I was feeling something for you. You became the subject of my poems and letters. However, I must have forgotten that though love should be given without expecting something in return, love is different when it’s mutual. And I guess, that is something we don’t have. Our feelings are not mutual at all.
I know that words mean so much to you. Thus, I have tried to be expressive to you. I told you morning and evening how much you mean to me. However, I was so stupid that I failed to see the signs. You always responded with gratitude but never with reciprocity. I have always assured you how special you are to me, but you never assured me how special I am to you. Instead, I felt like I should always wake up every day to fight for that place in your heart. I felt like failing a day would mean losing you. I always failed and was always at the brink of losing you. However, you always catched my failures with your patience and grace.
Then I pondered if this is what true love in human form is. My mind responded “yes” because love would always desire the best for its subject. However, my heart answered “no” because love will not fail to make you feel loved.
Then I held my chest. It was burning in pain, but still beating.
Then I went back to my first thoughts.
Am I really tired? Yes, I am.
Am I tired of loving? No, I am not.
Am I tired for what I was called for? No, I am not.
But I am tired expecting.
I am tired seeking for love.
I am tired demanding affirmations.
So this time, I will let go of my expectations.
You don’t have to treat me special merely because I see you to be special.
You don’t have to make me feel loved merely because you know I love you.
You don’t have to sugarcoat pity with love. You don’t have to.
I love you so much that I’m letting you go. I don’t want to imprison you with my selfish desires. I want you to express your love with freedom to the person you love dearly without thinking that I might get hurt. I want you to experience a mutual love.
However, I want to let you know that letting you go doesn’t mean that I will stop loving you.
I will love you but I will no longer expect.
I will love you but I will no longer bother you. I will love you but I will no longer write it.
From now on, I will love you in silence.
Kenna West once wrote, “Should the day ever come when I forget what real love costs,
Remind me of the cross.”
Perhaps, I have been so in loved lately that I forgot the cross. Perhaps, I have been so self – centered that I forgot what it means to be crucified.
Galatians 2:20 writes, “I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.”
Thus, I pray to kill my selfish emotions through dying to self daily. It is only by that that I can love the real kind, the God kind – a heart that rests but keeps beating, a heart that loves even if unloved.