I’m not in love with you
Gwen Straeffer of Thought Catalog
I’m not in love with you. It’s just a word, and besides, I don’t trust love. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an abstraction, a promise that too many people fail to keep. I’ve seen love reduced to a point of contention between two people who didn’t care enough to make it work. I’ve seen love slowly dissolve a person into a fragile shadow of who they once were.
I’ve seen love destroy where it was supposed to build. I don’t want to be in love with you, because I don’t want that to happen to me.
I’m not in love with you. I wouldn’t know how to be in love with you even if I were. I’ve spent my whole life learning to stand, however tentatively, on my own two feet. I’m proud of the fiercely independent person I’ve become, of the way I’ve proven time and time again the strength of my own willpower. Relying on you, needing you, loving you — that would be a betrayal of the girl I fought to be.
I don’t want to be in love with you, because I want to be complete on my own. I’m not in love with you. It’s too soon for that, and I’m not the kind of person who rushes into things. I take risks only when I calculate them. I make tough decisions only when I consider every option and imagine every consequence.
I don’t want to be in love with you, because I didn’t plan it and I can’t explain it and every neuron and axon in my rational brain refuses to accept it. I’m not in love with you.
So what if all those sappy love songs have suddenly started making sense? So what if I catch myself wanting to hear every minute detail of your banal day-to-day existence? So what if the only thing that makes me happier than spending the night with you is waking up next to you in the morning? I’m not in love with you. I’m not.
Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll be true.
I’m not in love with you.