You can’t expect everyone you love
to know how to be loved by you.

Some people were never taught
what love is supposed to feel like.

So when you show up
real, open, honest
it doesn’t always feel safe to them.

It feels unfamiliar.

Heavy.

Sometimes even suspicious.

To you, your love feels like a gift.

To them, love might have always come with pain.
Conditions.
Loss.

So they don’t reach back.

And you’re left there
with everything you’re feeling
wondering why it isn’t enough.

Why they don’t say it.
Why they don’t show it.

Why it doesn’t feel the same on both sides.

And it hurts.

Because from where you’re standing,
you gave everything.

But from where they are,
they might not even understand
what they’re being given.

Not everyone pulls away because they don’t care.

Some people don’t respond
because they don’t understand it.

Some people don’t say it back
because they were never taught how.

And when you’re the one loving them,
that still feels like rejection.

Even when it isn’t.

Sometimes it’s fear.

Sometimes it’s damage.

Sometimes it’s someone standing in front of something real
and not knowing what to do with it.

I tried to love someone through that.

I tried to be softer.

More patient.

Less overwhelming.

I tried to show them
that my love wasn’t something to be afraid of.

That it wouldn’t disappear.

That it wouldn’t turn into something that hurt them.

And maybe they could have learned.

But I started losing myself in the process.

Because understanding someone’s wounds
doesn’t mean you’re meant to carry them.

And patience isn’t the same thing
as staying in something one-sided.

I learned that loving someone gently
shouldn’t require me to disappear.

(I understood why they couldn’t meet me, but that didn’t mean I was meant to stay.)