Last
weekend I was having lunch with an aunt I’ve known over the decade, she has
continuously bug me to be in a relationship, even more than my mum. She even
set me up on different kinds of dates over the years, yet I never really know
what a horrible marriage she’s been through. Even though I’ve known the husband
too, I definitely did not know that he was a gambler, playboy and even abused
her when she was young.
This
incident has kept me wondering how and why she went through such a horrible marriage,
yet she bugs those around her to be in one. Why would she still believe in marriage?
Why would she want anyone to walk through something that with the chances and
possibilities of a horrible marriage? She even convinced me that my man isn’t
good does not mean yours will not be good.
Yet if
anyone ever cracks this heart, he will find the struggles I fight against
myself over my own insecurities, my self-worth, my trust to someone. I know everybody
wants to be loved. I do too. I want someone to lift me off my feet and
show me the world. I desire love, affection, and acceptance. I want to be held;
I want someone to kiss me on my forehead before I fall asleep. I want to love
someone, to feel the eccentric composition of flesh and bones that comes from
the unexpected magic of love.
I
was told my energy brings out the best in people why couldn’t I bring out the
best in myself? Why couldn’t I get the small acts of kindness and affection
from the people I love. Maybe I am too headstrong, too capable to fix
everything life has thrown at me. Maybe I want love, but love eludes me. Maybe love has given up on me a long time ago.