I used to think there was something romantic and extraordinary about being able to feel so deeply. Like I somehow possessed a special gift to understand things at a soul level. In fact, it’s a curse. It’s earth shattering, spirit breaking, and so incredibly lonely to always be the one who loves the most. Being the one who always stays. The one who takes all the blows and comes back for more, because I never wanted anyone I loved to ever feel like they were unlovable. I refused to abandon those that were slowly killing pieces of me without a second thought. In actuality, I remain the abandoned. I’ve martyred myself by refusing to walk away from a lifetime of pain. I question, no I scream at God and ask what the hell is the purpose of putting me here just to experience loss, abandonment, and bone crushing pain… all because I don’t know how to love less. I grieve for myself now. I’ve lost her in the torrential downpour of all the pain in this world. I am powerless in the big picture. I grieve for all the love I’ve lost on people who never saw any value in me.

Then I turn the page. And do it all again. Because love lost, is in fact, still love had.

By Becca Hulen

From: United States