Case of Doubt: Is This Love?

Case of Doubt: Is This Love?

When you are in a relationship. So in love, happily married. Will you ever ask yourself whether what you have right now, with that person, is real or not?

Would you look at other couples, and secretly think, do they make the sacrifice that you make? Do they heal their own pain the way you heal yours? Do they hide their disappointment from their significant other?  Do they need to forgive anything? Do they cry under the shower? Do they curl under their blanket, holding themselves from calling the love of their life, nobody knows whether is the one they get married to, or someone else out there.

Do they say to themselves: “this is it. I have to endure this. this is the price I need to pay in order for me to understand that person. in order for me to prove to that person that I am able to love. I am worthy of their love. this is the pain I need to get accustomed to. this is the tears I need to see in front of the mirror before I sleep.

And when they say that, do they also ask to themselves: “But what if, one day, that person could finally love the way I want to be loved, but for someone else? What if, that person does care about other people, but the right person hasn’t come yet. That person does know how to love other people, but the right person hasn’t come yet. That person is brave in showing their feelings, but the right person hasn’t come yet. What if I was just never the right person. Not the right voice. Not the right body type. Not the right age. Not the right mind. Not the right moment. Not the right hair. Not the right nose. Not the right family. Not the right shoe-size. What will I do then?”


Do they stare at the ceilings in the middle of the night, thinking: “What if I’m going crazy from all of this. Would that be worth it? I just want to sleep, damn it. Why can’t I am being loved the way I want to be loved? Do all of this worth it? Am I being stupid? Am I throwing away my future and my life?”

And then do they ever think, why human can’t just love the person that loves them? Why they want to be loved the way they want to be loved, and only by the person they want to be in love with?

Why can’t love be simple?

And when they finally tired, thinking: this is not good for me. I should stop. Do they hold a little laugh inside, thinking: “oh that’s right, love is supposed to be for one person and one person only. even the love you have for yourself is proof that you probably don’t love that person enough. you still love yourself more. that’s why you want out.”

And when they’re hurt. Closing their heart. Clenching their hands. Holding themselves from falling apart. And on some good days, they decide to open themselves, just a little. Do they think: “Now you know me. Would you love me, then? If this isn’t enough, what do you want? What should I do? Where should I go? What part of me you don’t like? Should I hide that? Can you accept that? What should I do?”

And do they ever ask whether they could survive without love? Without a text asking, where have you been all day? What do you eat for dinner? How’s your work? Do you feel well? Do you need me? Do you want me to hug you? Do you want me to stay? Do you care about me? Do you hate me? Do you want me to wait? Do you want me to go? Am I important to you? Do you think about me when you are happy? When you are sad? Do you care if I’m hurt? Am I a burden to you? Should I go and disappear from your life? Will I ever be able to forget you? Do you want to be remembered?

When they remember that some people said that love is a verb, therefore, not supposed to be said over and over, but supposed to be shown again and again. That some people love secretly, in hiding. Do they wish for that superficial, showy, love, just a bit? Just a word. A reminder. So they could stay a little bit longer. Feel a little bit stronger. So they could hush the voice in their brain, saying “leave. that person took advantage of you. just leave.”

And then do they ask for the last time, Why all of this seems so important to me?

Do they hate themselves when their final words would always be:

Will you love me?


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *