writingthysoul

[writingthysoul]

love emerges as life’s quintessential essence. a soul longs for the tender grace of affection, which is shown to those who are considered worthy. i’ve been alive for quite a long time, and i never felt that somebody gave me love or, someone gives, but also disappears after a few days, or months, or years. love, an omnipresent force, dances before my eyes, yet it dances not for me, but for others.

few people gave me love. i accepted it because i thought it was genuine. reciprocating with gestures reserved for those i held close, i found myself entangled in a paradox—love given freely, only to vanish abruptly. i just keep thinking, is it wrong to be me? is there a problem with me? or in the things i do?

am i unworthy of another’s enduring affection?

my heart yearns for love, and so i beseech its presence relentlessly. the love that is true, the feeling that i become safe when i’m with them, that i can do the things i do when i’m comfortable. but even in the cardboard box, toward the edge of the house, in our neighbor’s cabinet, in the people i gave love to, i didn’t find any love for me. i just sat there, stunned. i left a space on the seat, for somebody may sit close to me, taking care of a container of fondness. i have never experienced living with love. i feel rare, extraordinary, yet forlorn. i know that i’m not capable enough to receive attention from people, so when somebody attempts to give me fondness, i simply leave. it scares me. but i’m at least trying.

as i observe the radiant sunshine, the nocturnal moon, and the glittering stars, admiration abounds from many. do they, too, feel the embrace of love? even the animals, trees and plants. it’s envious to hear when there are many people who love you. when people give you attention when you need it. the people who will encourage you when you participate in a contest or event or congratulate you when you score well on tests or quizzes. the ones who wishes you a cheerful birthday despite the fact that you didn’t announce that it’s your birthday today, for it’s written in their calendar, or in the notes app, or just remembered.

how long will i be jealous?