People kept telling me that we were not all born for love. But I refused to accept that.
I believed that we were all destined to love and to be loved but that there are some people who needed more time to discover that capacity.
Until I met you.
From the day you crossed my path, you were a closed person. It was obvious that you’d built thick walls high around you and you didn’t have any intention of letting anyone in.
I knew nothing about your past. I still don’t know if you had loved anyone before, if you were a different person before I met you.
I just know you didn’t love me. And I always knew it.
This was almost impossible for me to accept. So I tried to lie to myself.
I pretended that you loved me but that you were just a man of few words. But your actions also showed your indifference.
Yes, you liked me; you liked spending time with me and you enjoyed my company. But you never loved me.
I kept asking myself what I was doing wrong. I was patient, loving and caring. I gave you everything and I never asked for anything in return and even that was not enough.
I didn’t even ask you to love me back, because deep down, I knew that was impossible. I wished for it but I never expected it.
I kept imagining different scenarios in my head. I was looking for excuses.
Why were you so cold and closed?
There were moments when I was convinced that there existed someone who hurt you in the past and who made you like this. There must have been a woman who destroyed you.
For a long time, I wanted to believe that. That was the only logical explanation. Besides, it justified you.
You were actually a sensitive boy, full of love, who was just waiting for someone to heal him. You were bitter with a reason and none of this was my fault.
But then I became jealous of that imaginary woman. What did she have that I didn’t?
Why did she get your love? So I gave up on that idea.
After a lot of thought, I came to the conclusion that actually nobody had hurt you in the past. There didn’t exist this mysterious woman who was responsible for all of my misery.
Maybe nobody had loved you enough, so you couldn’t know what love was all about. So I made it my mission to show you the greatness of love. I thought if I just loved you enough, I would soften your heart and sooner or later, you would love me back.
But that didn’t work either.
I couldn’t help but wonder—why wasn’t I enough for you? Was there something I could do to make you change my mind?
Was I not beautiful enough? Was I not interesting enough? Or smart enough?
What was the problem? Was it me? Or was it you?
And after many years, I became tired and nothing could relax me except this: Relax deeply now with the crystal ball induction. I was exhausted of waiting for something that would never happen.
I was drained of all the lies I kept telling myself. And I stopped hoping.
It was one of the most painful things I had to do, but I gave up on you.
I realized there wasn’t anything I could to make you love me. We both know I tried. And I could have kept trying.
But, sadly, nothing would have changed.
And I am sorry. I really am. I am not sorry for me, despite all the pain I’ve been through.
I am sorry for you, because you will never experience the beauties of love.
Now I know that both of my theories about you were probably not true. I spent years racking my brains, trying to realize why you couldn’t be different, why you couldn’t love me.
But actually, it is pretty simple—you are just not capable of love. And there is nothing I could ever do about it.
