You Don’t Lose Love. It Just Feels Like You Do.
An ode to loving an addict by an Anonymous Narcissist with Romantic Tendencies
Loving an addict will break you into a million little pieces. You’ve been warned.
Love. Such a little word. With such large implications. Such as…How the fuck did this happen? I met her in May 2015. She was this hot yet nerdy, popular yet introverted girl at work and I was a low key “player” by all accounts. Cocky, charming, arrogant, shallow, talking to four or five women at a time. I was laid back, I was having fun. A very, ‘love? Miss me with that bullshit’ attitude. But she made me nervous. She changed how I felt about women. And that shook me to my very core. It changed me in all the right ways. I recall exchanging numbers with her like, ‘no big deal, she’s not my type, this won’t be an issue’. This seems really, really funny now. 21 months later. 21 months deep. We’ve been on a journey..
Her personality drew me in. Like how authors describe vampires in books, everything about her was alluring. I couldn’t get enough of her. I tried. I couldn’t stop myself from loving her. I tried. It didn’t take all that long. I tried. My friends would read off lists of everything against us. I tried. None of it mattered. I would reason with myself. I tried. Then discard my own advice. I tried. She just had me completely wrapped around her little Pisces fin. Which was new for me. I’ve been in love twice before, but never like this. It never felt so visceral. Before it felt like fun, this feels like forever. Like I have a certain smile that’s just for her. This wide, cheesy grin. Like my mind designed this particular smile as hers and hers alone. How ridiculous is that?
Love doesn’t make a lick of goddamn sense. All of a sudden you’re willing to put your happiness on the backburner. Willing to take a shotgun blast to the chest so she can get out alive. Willing to give her the last slice of pizza. What is happening to you?? Wishing you could take all her pain and make it yours. And then you realize it kind of is yours. Because when you think of what she’s been through and is going through, it hurts you. In a way it hurts you worse than if you were just going through it yourself. It hurts because you’re impotent, you can’t do shit to fix it. You didn’t fuck it all up to begin with. It’s not your fault they say. She’s not your fault they say. That doesn’t help. You’ve become useless and that would’ve been okay. Before. With other girls. Cause you used to not care much either way. But now that you care, being useless is like being punched hard in the gut every hour but never learning to expect it.
Love is not created equal. This is a once in a lifetime love. This is not me being dramatic. I swear, I’m really quite reasonable. This is nothing like my first two loves. This will not be like any love I have again. Some of us get a chance to have this ethereal love but once. Most people don’t even get it once. Most people settle for something watered down. I cannot settle. Especially now that I’ve seen a glimpse of storybook love. I hope you get the chance to love something that’s like a shooting star. Brilliant and blazing and then gone but the universe will never forget what it saw. “Love is supposed to be beautiful and easy and only bring out the good in us.” Bullshit. Love is as messy and difficult as people are. It’s not just supposed to bring out the out good, real love brings out everything. Your best, your worst, your happiest, your saddest. Fuck, it puts you through all the feels. But it’s real if you still love her after the saddest and angriest moments. If she can rip your heart in half and walk away from it and you’d welcome her back with a hug. If you can figure out love, you can figure out life. It’s all there really is. But good luck figuring that shit out. Let me know if you do. I’d love some insight.
You see, my love, she is amazing. She’s a beautiful soul but she’s a girl who doesn’t realize her value. Too many of those amiright? If you met her, you’d know why I love her. You’d love her too. If she reads this letter ( I sent it to her and if I know her like I think I do, she read it), she’ll love/hate it. The sweet part of her, her true nature, she’ll love it. The roughed up part of her that punishes itself daily, it’ll hate it. Too sappy, too sweet, too fucking loving, too much. She doesn’t deserve a letter like this, just like she doesn’t deserve a love like this. She’s there for other people, she makes them feel good, she picks them up and dusts them off. But she can’t return the favor to herself. She can’t care for herself. Loving someone who doesn’t love themselves will be the hardest thing you ever do. But I shall never, for as long as I live, no matter what happens, regret loving this girl. Sometimes I think I needed her more than she needed me. I hate that I wasn’t the first person to love her. I wonder how different her life would be if she had met me when she was 14 instead of some of the people she did meet.
Most of the time (unless I can get myself bone weary tired) I lie awake at night and I wonder if she ever loved me back. Or I imagine her with someone else. And right when the hurt starts to get to that unbearable point…I realize how much I love her. I love her so much that it’s okay so long as she’s okay. If she’s happier next to someone else, then I’m okay. If she didn’t really love me and so now she’s not very sad, that’s okay. Except in many ways, nothing is okay. Because wherever she is, I so badly want to be there. Makes you wonder if the universe knows that being together would just destroy you. Cause I’ll never tire of trying to figure her out. Her mysteries. Her nature. Her stories. Her essence. I would let her consume me fully. And maybe I’d just cease to exist. And maybe that wouldn’t be good. Like at one point she just disappeared and she was gone for weeks and she didn’t bother to write me or call me (and believe me, that hurt) and when I received the hey you email 80 days later, everything stopped. Blood rushed into my ears, my hands shook, I had to sit down, the world ceased to exist for a moment. Everything outside of that email. And maybe that’s not good.
If someone loves her after me. If she won’t let me be the last person to love her then I want them to know how to love her. So this part is an open letter to a person I hope doesn’t actually exist because I really hope she lets me be her last love but anyway here we go, whew…Be gentle with her. She seems tough, but she’s kind hearted. Be patient with her. She will drive you up the wall. She is worth the headache. Hold her through her crazy moments. Love her with everything you’ve got, but give her space. She needs to be loved but it overwhelms her. Stop looking at other women. As if they matter anymore anyway. Bring her pizza. Kiss her forehead. She likes Batman. And Nikes. Don’t stick your finger in her ear, it annoys her, really. Buy her gifts, but don’t tell her you’re going to. She’ll try to stop you. When you say something funny but rude her nose will crinkle and she’ll say ew, notice it, it’s adorable. Recognize that her mom is almost as cool as her. Her sister aight too. Ask her opinion on things, she’s so smart and she knows what’s going on. Write her bedtime stories. Bitches love bedtime stories. But mostly just love her and keep loving her and when she pushes you away love her and when she’s mean to you love her and just keep doing it and realize how lucky you are to love her.
You, you’re a romantic (I know this because you’re reading an article about love and I know people) so you do things. You write down these reasons you love someone and don’t get me wrong, it was so easy. I wrote a 100 reasons why I loved her list and it was so, so easy. I could’ve written 200 more. But you realize it’s not about these reasons. You recognize that you love this person on this molecular, soul recognition level. Like once it’s there, it’s there forever. It’s not because her bangs are great (they are) or because she’s so funny (she is). It’s like you start to believe that a higher power does in fact create people for other people. Like someone sent me out into the world early, ahead of her and then I had to wait for her to catch up. It’s like her birthdate becomes the most important date in your life because without that day none of your days would matter. And it’s like even if you don’t end up with this person, they’re yours. And you’re theirs. So you don’t lose true love. It’s like energy, it’s always there. It may not be in the form you want, but it can’t be destroyed. True love is there, unconditionally, always, all ways.