My abstract heart can only understand, the real meaning of love
My parent’s divorce profoundly affected me. My father left the house soon after I turned eleven, and I never saw him again. The sense of abandonment always stayed with me and would later have a more profound impact on my relationships.
When you're a girl transitioning into teenage years, the world seems like a playground, but once you encounter the many ups and downs of puberty, things begin to warp in another direction. I became a lot more aware of the way I looked and how other people perceived me. I wanted to belong in a world where I had always felt different, due to the break up of my parent’s marriage. I knew other children were going through similar experiences, but I couldn’t relate. They could still see their fathers, but I never got the chance to do that. I saught refuge in old movies, watching romantic comedies about perfect families and relationships. I wanted to believe that it was possible to have a happy ending and that pain could be exempt from life’s equation.
Boy was I wrong. The first time I experienced a breakup, I felt like my heart would explode. I was fifteen and thought I had lost my place in the world. We had only been going out for three months, but to me, it felt like forever. I remember spending the next few weeks listening to cheesy pop songs about lost love and heartbreak. I was healing and just trying to understand this abstract form of pain. To me, love was confusing and strange. I couldn’t quite grasp the intriguing nature of it.
I experienced a very toxic relationship when I was in my twenties. I was always the one accepting mistakes and forgiving errors that were repeated continuously, without any sign of regret. I remember thinking about how my father treated my mother in the past. I realise now that it was a very controlling relationship on his behalf. We tolerate a lot from people when we feel like we don’t deserve love. For some reason, I was confused about the difference between love and control, which gave me the illusory idea that I had an abstract heart. One that couldn’t understand the real meaning of love.
Through the years, I drifted in and out of relationships. Some were better than others, but ultimately none of them could fill the empty void that I always tried to ignore. My closest friends were getting married and looked so radiantly happy next to their partners. I thought they had just been lucky in finding love. I was the eternal bridesmaid but never the bride, and I was ok with that. I didn’t want to be with someone that made me feel lonely or misunderstood. I would rather be in my own company and enjoy the simple things. I had given up on the idea of a happy ending and decided I would learn to love and accept myself first. I didn’t want to be with anyone until I knew what I wanted.
After five long years of self-reflection and acceptance, I had finally learnt to love myself. Even though it was challenging, It was the best thing I ever did. I had to stop blaming myself for what happened in the past and come to terms with the things I couldn’t change. I also realised that it was ok to fail at relationships. When we think about love, perfection becomes an absurd concept that only puts extra pressure on something that should flow naturally. We are imperfect beings trying to make the best out of what we have. Sometimes we all feel lost, unloved and insecure, and that’s ok. At the same time, we still want to believe that love can be magical and pain-free, but it’s not a reality.
My abstract heart can only understand the real meaning of love, only because I allow it to. I want love to be authentic, passionate, committed and honest. I want to trust someone enough to let go of my fears and embrace my imperfections. I don’t want to regret anything. I want to live and experience love with all the trials and tribulations that come with it. I am not afraid anymore, and I don’t want to control things. I just want someone to love the imperfectly, beautiful me.
