I can never really know when someone loves me or if they’re just looking for someone to love them. I don’t know if anyone can truly know the difference, at least not in my experience.
After all this time, searching, hoping for the right person to come along, I have concluded that there is no such thing as a ‘one true love’, merely a chance-encounter with someone like minded enough to put up with your bullshit.
It’s a strange concept, love. It’s supposedly better than just tolerating someone, and a whole lot better than resisting the urge to murder them. But I don’t know how it could be. I’m such a cynic when it comes to, well.. human beings, that to suggest I fall for someone, trust them, find a soul that could understand and embrace me for and in spite of all my baggage is just beyond me.
I know there is someone out there who wants what I want out of life. But I know the odds. There’s always a catch. That someone will be older, younger, unavailable, uninterested, damaged, detached, derailed or dead by the time I find them. That’s why cemeteries make me so curious. What potential soul mate did I lose to the earth already? And how many more will fall before I can catch their eye?
I don’t pretend I know very much about love. And I don’t pretend to be cut out for love either. There’s a chance I’ll live my life only knowing chance-encounters and brief flings I will enjoy for years to come. I mean, hey, I might as well enjoy them while I’m still enjoyable, myself. You only get one life in which you must make those mistakes, learn who you are and find someone who wants to make them with you.
I’m a soul without a mate, a hand without a holder. The girl I see in my dreams is a girl for whom I’ve fallen, whether or not she knows it. Hell, whether or not she ever will or even can know it. I’m okay with that idea. I just want to know, you know?
I just want to know there’s someone capable of loving me because they love themselves enough to let it spill over onto someone else. I hear that phrase a lot: ‘You can’t love someone until you love yourself.’ And that’s true. That’s very true and.. sad, to be honest. Because I know a lot of people who can’t find a single nice thing to say about themselves, but they have such potential to be SOMEONE’S happiness and can’t be because they have no smile for their own mind.
To clarify, I have happiness within myself. I might’ve done terrible things and been vengeful in my youth. But I am not the same person I was, even a couple years ago. That’s mostly due to my friends and the time I took for myself. I learned a lot about me by being alone that I’ve learned not to hate the idea that I won’t find anyone. Instead, I embrace the empty chair across the table and let my mind wander off, teaching myself more about my ideas on philosophy, my rulings and understandings of the supernatural and paranormal, and smaller things like how I like to wear my hair.
I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a chance at happiness with another person. In fact, I believe it’s a basic human right to seek something/someone that will put a smile on your own face. I know there’s a soul out there, looking for me just as I am, her. And if she’s anything like me (which she would have to be), she will know there’s a chance we’ll never meet. But that won’t stop us, no. We need this hope.