Philophobia, also known as the fear of falling in love. I think a lot of us (even if we don’t know it), are afraid of falling in love. It’s one of those things where we really can’t control, it just happens. I don’t think it’s that we are afraid of love itself, I think it’s that fact that we are afraid of being hurt. All through history, horrible things have happened because of love. But, very good things have happened because of it as well. We just need to find that people that are worth getting hurt for.
I think I first realized I was afraid of love after my first major breakup. I told myself that I would never open up my heart again, for the fear of getting hurt. So for a while, I tried to stop it. And it worked for a while. Until I met him.
He’s like a cup of tea on a sunny Sunday morning. He’s like taking a nap on a Saturday afternoon. He makes me feel awake and refreshed. He is a breath of fresh air. And I have just run a marathon across the country to reach him.
He scares me. It’s not him himself that scares me, but it’s the me that I am when I’m with him that scares me. I’m so unrealistically happy when I’m with him. It’s the kind of happy that is only true in teen romance novels and cliché toothpaste commercials. I’m a different me when I’m with him. It’s a kind of me that only he’s allowed to see. My walls are done. I’m not hidden in a veil of sarcasm. I’m light and sweet. It almost seems fake, but then I have to ask myself what’s real?
He’s sad. And it makes me sad that he’s sad. I just want to hug every last once of sadness out of him. He fakes a smile when we are in a crowd, but I can see him slowly breaking from the inside. It hurts me. I want to fix him. But I feel as though that’s a very hypocritical thing to say because I’m broken as well.
We are both blind. We are blind to what’s happening between us. Everyone else can see it but us. Or can we? Are we afraid to say something because we know that once we do there is no going back? Because if we acknowledge it we will have to acknowledge that fact that love truly exists. Love can’t be ignored. The feeling it contains need to be felt. People fall in love and get hurt. It’s the natural process. But we can’t stop it anymore.
I love him. And it’s childish for me to hide it for the fear of getting hurt. I need to grow up and acknowledge that fact that he’s the only person I think about. And when I’m not with him it’s physically hard to breath. That I spend an extra ten minutes a day in hopes that he will tell me I look nice. I do these things for him, because I love him. And although the possibilities of us growing old together are slim to none I’m willing to take those chances. Because it’s worth it, he’s worth it. I would fly across the world just to see him smile. I would give him a kidney, and kidneys are very vital organs that we need to survive. But I don’t care, because as long as he’s happy I’m happy. As long as he’s breathing, I’m alive. Love is a battle. It is silently screaming in the blackness of the night. But love is also a dove. A ray of sun shining through the valley in the spring. Love is smile. Love is a hug. Love is letting someone know that you are there for them till the end of time. Love is living. Love is dying. Love is me. Love is you. Love is him. We are love. We feel love. We all need love whether we deny is, or run at it with open arms and smiles on our faces. I thought all this time love was a weakness. No, it’s the thing that makes us strong.