June 19th, 2025

Everyone I’ve ever thought I loved
I found ways to push away
Thinking what was meant for me
Would find a way to stay
I’ve ended all my long term relationships
But I’ve longed ghosts for years
Because reaching for the unobtainable
Is easier than facing all of my fears
Finding those who don’t know how to show care
Is a way that I protect myself
Because I will never be fully seen
Through the eyes of someone else
Writing myself into the role of the victim
And maybe I even believed it
Dodging the words that I’ve been accused
While suppressing any regret
I’ve oscillated between push and pull
Always found ways not to get too close
Buried the evidence to plead my innocence
Until I let myself decompose
They held up a mirror of who I was
As I stepped into the role of those I’ve dated
Breaking the barriers I’ve hid the truth behind
Then seeing the illusion I’ve created
I don’t think I’ve ever known real love
Only settling when I stabilized limerence
Loving the idea I created in my head
And praying one day I’ll learn the difference

Note: This poem was written while I was recognizing how my attachment wounds shaped the way I loved. Neglect in childhood, followed by a decade in a marriage where love existed without being chosen, taught my nervous system to associate closeness with waiting and inconsistency. After those chapters ended, I found myself drawn to similar dynamics. Anxious longing meeting avoidant distance, a cycle that can feel like love, but is often the nervous system seeking familiarity rather than connection. Naming the pattern, and recognizing my disorganized attachment, helped me see that intensity is not intimacy, and uncertainty is not love. This year I worked through the need to prove my worth or romanticize inconsistency. Healing does not remove fear, but it has changed how I respond to it.