With the start of a new year, I wanted to share a story that has been压在 me心头 for a long time. The story of how love can be so powerful, but also so painful.
When I met you, I was excited for the first time in my life to meet someone who could truly bring me joy. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my days with you, sharing in each other’s triumphs and comforting each other in each other’s struggles.
But as time went on, I realized that your love for me was not just love, but also a kind of pain that I could not escape. The pain of knowing that I could not have what I needed, or what I wanted, and that you would always be there for me, taking care of me, even when I needed you the most.
The pain of realizing that I was not the person I used to be, and that I had to change, and work hard to become the person you expected me to be. The pain of watching you grow and become the person you were meant to be, and me, just as much, but not quite as good as you.
The pain of realizing that our love was not a happy love, but a love that was full of pain, and sadness, and loneliness. The pain of not being able to hug you, or hold your hand, or feel your body next to mine.
The pain of knowing that our love would never be enough, and that I would have to move on, and find another person, another love, who could truly love me, and care for me, and make me happy.
And the pain of losing you, and not being able to see you, or hear from you, or talk to you, or hold your hand, or feel your body next to mine.
Love can be so powerful, but also so painful. It is a pain that we cannot escape, and a pain that we cannot fully understand, until we are left behind, and the pain is gone.
But even though my love for you is painful, I will always carry with me the memories of you, and the love that we shared. The memories of us laughing, and us breaking down, and us trying to make it through the day. The memories of us being together, and being happy, and being loved.
And even though my love for you is painful, I will always carry with me the knowledge that you are in my heart, and that you will always be there for me, even when I am gone. The knowledge that you are the one who loves me, and that I am the one who loves you.
And that is the pain of love, and that is the beauty of it. The pain of knowing that I cannot have what I want, or what I need, and that you will always be there for me, taking care of me, even when I need you the most. The beauty of knowing that our love is not a happy love, but a love that is full of pain, and sadness, and loneliness. The pain of losing you, and not being able to see you, or hear from you, or hold your hand, or feel your body next to mine. The beauty of carrying with me the memories of you, and the love that we shared.
