I’m ashamed of myself.
I’m a girl – supposed to be more sensitive to the callings of Eros, supposedly fascinated by the magic of romance and the possibilities of happily ever afters – yet here I am: a self-confessed hopeless romantic who doesn’t even believe the male species is actually capable of falling in love. Now, how could a girl like that expect to be loved in return?
I’ve experienced many kinds of relationships – to the point where I lose count of what I should consider real or null. I can’t recall how many times I’ve embarrassed myself for being unable to accurately state how many relationships I’ve actually been into.
This, in spite of the truth that deep down, I know, none of them were ever real. None of them were ever worth it. And none of them were ever founded on love. They were just there – a reminder of my foolishness – and how I’m no different from the girls who have never experienced being in a relationship before: uncertain and afraid.
The main reason why I could never consider them real is the apprehension of expressing love and care when breakups are just around the corner. Eventually we will have to part ways, and I didn’t see the point of expressing love for someone who won’t always be there. That would be a waste of time, effort and emotions – leading to meaningless heartbreaks and pain.
So I shut myself.
I liked the feeling of being appreciated, of being cared for and of being loved. I loved how I always felt special because there’s somebody who loves me.
But reciprocating that love was never easy for me. The thing is, I simply did not trust guys. Period.
I grow in relationships thinking that guys are simply nice on the first few dates and would only exert as much effort when they want to get your “Yes, I’d be your girlfriend” reply.
I’ve witnessed countless relationships break apart because of the guy’s immaturity, fear of commitment, slow resistance to temptation or just pure jerk-iness. Because of that, I always make it a point to ensure I wouldn’t get hurt by men like that. I knew there were probably nice guys out there but the possibility of my ending up with them is slim, and I just didn’t want to take that risk.
Maybe I really am sexist. You can call me the female version of a chauvinist – and maybe I am. I’ve heard the line “don’t generalize” countless times before, but my thick-head and desperate attempts at self-preservation wouldn’t allow it. Falling in love can be very scary.
What’s really shameful is the fact that a male friend of mine actually believed in True Love and managed to experience it. He got his heart broken but never regretted falling for her. Most of all, he is actually unafraid of falling in love again!
What’s more shameful (for me) was I had to find out on his blog! To think that he seemed like one of the biggest cynics I know…or so I thought. He was so carefree and goofy, that you would never have thought he’d be so sentimental about love and stuff like that. He was my image of a stereotypical male: confident, loud, and just manly (I can’t come up with a better word right now). He looked so hard on the outside, I didn’t know he could be so vulnerable.
And now, I – a girl! – can’t even bring myself to believe men actually fall in love! O.O
I know it’s unfair for the other decent guys out there. I also know guys who may be crazy as friends but are totally sweet and loyal to their girlfriends. Good relationships like that are rare, and I’m happy for them.
But good guys never really seem to be for me.
Maybe good guys are really out there. They’re just not a part of my love story… Hopefully, that’s a “not yet”.