When You Fall In Love

In life, we all love and we all lose. The saying goes “it is better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all.” But is it truly better to love and lose it, then to never experience the true art of love? The answer has never been clear to me. I have loved many and lost many, I have continued to search for love, and I have continued to have it fall through my fingers. No matter how many times I have learned to love, I have still not learned that losing it can be just as hard to understand.

There was once a man, the first man I loved, many years ago, that taught me many things about love. How love can be so true and so beautiful, but also so heartbreaking? Never had I loved anyone like him. He was my best friend, my confidant, and the person who made me feel beautiful. There was no hesitation in my falling in love with him.

I remember the day my heart was broken. The day the other woman, my roommate, had shown up at his door. When he tried to explain away the reason she was there, telling me they were friends and only going for coffee. But I knew the truth, the truth was only cemented when they didn’t return until the late evening.

I also remember the day I stood next to the man I loved, as he married her only 5 short months later. I stood next to him as he said the words “I do.” I stood next to him and I gave a wedding speech congratulating them on their new lives together and on how their love would grow.

However, I also remember the day I stopped loving him. I remember the day I looked at him and felt nothing. I remember the day my heart healed itself and fell in love again...

I was married once. I thought this man was the love of my life and I loved him with my whole heart. But the marriage wasn’t a good one, it left me with a hole in my heart that I thought could never be filled.

It tore me apart. The abuse I suffered at the hand of a man I fell in love with, well, it felt like end of my heart. I trusted this man with my love, my life, and my body. Instead of cherishing these things he destroyed them. Leaving physical and mental scars that have taken years to repair. These moments aren’t worn repeating, nor do they pertain to my story. What does pertain was the love I lost in such a way that it was almost impossible to live through.

It has been a few years since that relationship ended. The first year, my happiness was gone. I felt like a hollow shell, not quite dead but not quite alive. I decided love was not my true calling, I was meant to see it experienced in others but never for myself. There aren’t many memories I have during that time, my heart couldn’t hold much in time or memories.

The second year, I grew in life and love. I didn’t find someone to love. I found myself. I had come to realize that if I couldn’t love who I was then how would anyone else love me? I didn’t do any “glow ups” or “hot girl summer” and I sure as heck didn’t park my butt in a gym. What I did do was understand that I am not perfect and that was perfectly fine. I started to express my emotions when I felt them, I started expressing my colorful nature through clothes and make up, and I started being the person I wanted to love.

The third year came and we hit a pandemic. It was a whirlwind of fear, disaster, sorrow, and solitude. But I actually fell in love again with another man. This time I came prepared though. My walls up, my guard stood firm, and my heart never truly open. He was long distance, he lived in Panama. And no, not Panama City, Florida. But the country of Panama. When we met he spoke no English and I spoke no Spanish. Together we built and bonded and made it work.

The love was short lived, lasting only couple months. I lost him because of distance and time. We were never meant to be, I understand that now. It didn’t take away the sting of losing yet another person I loved, who I believed loved me.

So why write this depressing story? Because here’s the good part. I’m getting to the good part, I promise.

I met this boy. I wasn’t looking for anything serious when I stumbled across his profile on bumble. I had just moved to a new state, a new part of the country, all I wanted was a friend. His goofy smile and no nonsense attitude made it hard to turn down.

I remember the first time I met him. It wasn’t very long ago. The first time I heard his voice, my heart skipped a beat. We talked for what felt like forever about everything and I never wanted it to stop. I wanted to grab his hand and never let go.

He told me of his past and it echoed mine. Loving and losing over and over again. His heart being broken so many times he wasn’t sure if he could ever love again. As I listened to his story and how it mimicked my own, I felt compelled to tell him that I was different. That I knew what it felt like to love and lose so many times that your heart felt mangled. I decided to hold my tongue and instead show him that love comes in many different sizes and ways and times.

Currently, we have yet to tell each other those three little words that bring so much of an impact to our lives. On my end it is because I want to be 100% sure that I the love I feel for him is 100% true. I didn’t want to be the one to make him lose another love.

Here’s the thing, I think it’s the same for him too. He doesn’t want to be hurt again. Not does he want to be the cause of the hurt. Love is such a mess that it can be hard to weave it’s way through all of its tangles. Love is scary. Love is hard. Love is a choice. And neither of us want the other to hurt. But in the process, the love we do feel for each other is being crushed under the weight of fear and old hurts and being unsure of ourselves.

So how to love again without being hurt? I believe it’s impossible. Can you love again after being hurt over and over again? I believe so. Love and losing comes hand in hand. But not because we lose each other, sometimes it is because we lose the walls and guards and excuses. Sometimes when we love, we lose all sense of comfort and we lose our sense of what is safe.

Sometimes we lose because we end up hurting the other. Not on purpose because no one is perfect, we do the wrong things, say the wrong things, and have done wrong things. Does that mean that love isn’t worth it? I can’t see why it wouldn’t be. If everyone was perfect would love even exist?

For now, I’m still not ready to say those three little words. Love is so important, so masterful, and so incredibly beautiful. Love is full of heartache and pain, but full of happiness and kindness. It brings a certain joy not felt in any other emotion. I can’t bring myself to say them to him yet, we both aren’t ready.

I know for fact though that it is better to have loved and lost, because if I hadn’t lost all of those whom I have loved before, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to learn to love him. If I had never loved before, how would I know that this is the path I wanted to walk down with him?

The answer is, I wouldn’t. I’m so happy to have found one that I hope to love and never lose.