Is it because we inherently don't feel we deserve it? Is it because you survived while others didn't? You're not as beautiful or full of light or whole as you used to be? Your baggage to too great to be vulnerable again with another human being? Or maybe we just hate ourselves.
I never thought myself as one of those idiots who's self loathing was so great that they would turn away from love, to run from the fear of it. But here I am. So caught up in my own insecurity, confusion, my desperate and pathetic need to please and the pain of rejection, distrust and judgment so great, I can't even move at times. Or breathe. Or see the room in front of me.
What's the answer? I think sometimes it's to let go, love recklessly, fall head first, even though there is a 100% guarantee that I'll end the night with a arrow though my reckless stupid head. And how many arrows can my head take? Do I ignore the hurtful things said just to be free of them? Do I shrug off more criticism so they can't weight me down?
If only I thought life was richer without love. But I know that to be untrue and can't ignore the possibility of a half lived life. I must navigate and find a way.
But if anyone has a map, a compass or even vague directions, I'll take them.