don’t judge me but…

well if you asked me i’d say i wasn’t in love because truthfully i wasn’t. but if you wanted to know more i’d tell you to hold my hands lay on my bed and i’d stare into your eyes for what feels like an eternity before i explain that unfortunately……

i don’t quite think i can fall in love.

hey baby, i’ve written an awful lot about love recently, most of which i didn’t publish, just looked at it in my notes app and smiled - just a quiet understanding of me and my life and my love.

easy, quiet, understandable.

i don’t know when i started thinking i couldn’t love…….because i remember this one time i heard a famous person say ‘they weren’t built for romantic love, just platonic’ and i remember being absolutely heart broken yet here i am at my friend’s beautiful birthday party sitting in the corner telling myself i think i’m the same.

unlike everyone i know.

i like to be slow to wait and study before coming to conclusions, so the first time i realized there was something different to my emotional psych - i realized i wanted to be loved, but not quite love and then i wrote about it to you with all my heart and some of you saw it as “cute” or “different’mor even “vulnerable” but to me it was just true. i was just writing what i felt and how i felt it and this doesn’t change anything, i wanted to be loved? yes and now things are …….different.

i love who i am and the life i’ve created for myself, i’ve fallen in love with who i am and the choices i can make and it’s a long way from who i was last year and the year before but i’ll be dishonest to say my life is perfect. i still don’t know what exactly my content type is but unlike when i started writing two years ago at least now i know what i am more, what i like more, what makes me happy and well what doesn’t, i have a mirror now and i look at it an awful lot and as a plus i love what i see when i look at it, not just a boy, but a boy who has struggled with almost everything and has won every single time. i like to look at myself and imagine the me who started writing 2 years ago and how proud he’d be of who i am, who i am becoming and who i’m yet to become. i’m still anxious but my anxiety has a sudden calm i no longer fear everything, i don’t fear the world or the people in it or the voices i hear when i’m alone i’m simply used to the silence.

i still worry about not having a stable career or stable income but i’ve learnt that because i’m “known” i shouldn’t speak about these things.. not too much i should seem to have my life together….. to some extent. so on most days i act like i don’t worry even though i don’t know that i should be okay with still not having my community yet. i’m deeply introspective and disgusting excited at what i find out whenever i think of my life and the inbetweens, what a flex it is to create the life of your dreams.

to then live it and have the disgusting range to want more. how dare me? but how dare i not?

but you know what’s funny? that’s not what any of this is about it isn’t the life i created for myself, nor the life i grieved, it’s simply

i don’t think i can love.

the first girl i fell in love with was a year younger we were in junior school and i remember how she distinctively dragged her feet on the floor when she walked she had soft curly hair and hazel eyes and i think she was one of the first people to ever see me, truly see me. the second was the one that did my maths holiday assignment or was it home economics?

we were 12 and it was so stupid that our school forced us to do holiday assignments- we should rest during holidays, i mean it was called holiday for a reason.

the holiday after i’d spend it wishing she made a crochet cap for me. she loved to crochet and i loved to watch her crochet.

everyone says the cruelest part about growing up is the constant worry, constant bills…. constant everything but peace, but i think it’s worse. i think it’s not remembering, not remembering the face of ex lovers or their smell or their favorite color.

what good is a memory if it’s not even true?

i remember when i learned how most memories are false because over time they change and change and change leaving what you consider as the memory a fraction of the actual memory, how cruel it is……to grow up.

but i did like love, i did love.

until the second worst part of adulting happened, i grew older and people who promised to stay eventually left and i noticed, shoulders i had to cry on became rock solid and i learnt to clean my tears myself, soon after i would learn to not cry.

there simply was nothing worse.

it’s been 30 minutes since i started writing, so what if i think i can’t fall in love? i can live, i’m literally in a party. why the hell am i writing in a party?

goodnight and goodbye! i’m going to go have fun my love - i deserve it and even if i don’t. i’m still gonna have a time.

before i forget, how’s your day going joor? i miss you and think of you often, please write back to me my baby.

maybe another day we finish the conversation about love? or well my lack of it. talk soon my baby and by the way… i got this new time piece on my wrist in cape town and i’ve been loving it - as someone who suffers serious anxiety from buying expensive things i’m so happy i bought this. bye baby! might not love anyone but love you always always.