Because I’m someone who loves with all my heart, I’ve had my share of devastating breakups. Every love I’ve had felt like it was going to be the last one I’d ever need until suddenly it wasn’t. I used to want love, but after all of the pain I’ve suffered and the disappointments I’ve endured, I just don’t want love anymore. Here’s why:
The pain has always outweighed the happiness.
After it was all said and done, the memories and feelings that always stuck with me the most were the bad ones. Maybe that’s an internal issue, which is highly likely, but if I can do something to avoid adding to that sea of bad feelings, I will.
I love way too hard.
When I fall, I fall hard. The problem is, most of the people I’ve fallen for weren’t able to catch someone coming in at lightening speed so I always ended up crashing to the ground. I loved with everything I had and when it wasn’t or couldn’t be reciprocated, I was crushed all over again.
I’m terrified of being screwed over again.
Love is scary, there’s no way around that. Some will argue that it’s worth facing your fears for, but after several failed loves, I’m not quite sure it is anymore. It’s going to take one unicorn of a guy to have me face those fears again.
I have the worst taste.
The guys I choose to love always end up being terrible for me. This is my own fault for choosing the wrong partners, but it’s hard to tell who a person truly is and what qualities they have when your perception is based on first impressions (and when so many guys present themselves as someone they’re not).
Love isn’t supposed to be hard, but it always ends up that way.
It’s really supposed to be the easiest emotion to feel and the most exhilarating, yet whenever I fall in love, it ends up being the hardest thing in the world. I’m pretty much done with fighting that losing battle.
I’m not sure being in love is worth the heartbreak.
Love is great and all, but the pain of losing it is far worse. It’s not better to have loved and lost at all — especially not when it happens over and over again. It’s better to have never loved at all.
After every heartbreak, the pain of all my breakups comes flooding back.
When my heart breaks again, it’s as if all the heartbreak I’ve ever experienced comes crashing down at once. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s how I was apparently wired and the more it happens, the more hurt I become.
Being lonely is easier than being heartbroken.
Sure, having someone to share my life with would be cool and all, but the longer I stay out of love, the less lonely I feel and the more I heal. I’ll take an occasional bout of loneliness over months of crying at rom-coms and downing chocolate ice cream any day.
I don’t want to grow cold.
My heart still works and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to end up some bitter old hag that hates everything and everyone because some jackass broke her to the point of no return. I’m still a warm person and I won’t allow any man to change that.
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