I am incapable of being loved, it seems
Apr. 26th, 2026 04:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seapicklesupremacy My life is a comedy and I'm the only one not laughing.
3 months. 3 fucking months it was supposedly mutual. I liked him, he liked me. We fucked, we literally slept together, we planned our future together. He looked me dead in the eyes and said he loved me. Twice. I thought everything was peachy.
It was drugs. It wasn't real. He was too hopped up on antidepressants for it to be real. The medication made him love me. The meds made him want to fuck me. The meds made him say "I love you" two times. But now he's off them. There's nothing clouding his mind. There's nothing stopping him from seeing me as I truly am and pulling away.
Those adoring words and gentle looks, all spurred by chemical intervention. I knew there was no way that he could actually want me. I knew there was no way in hell that someone could look at the mess I am and choose me. I wanted to believe him so bad when he said he wanted me, but here I am yet again, holding the bag, not one bit surprised.
I really thought he was different, I had so much hope that things would be different this time. My desire to be chosen without hesitation clouded my judgement. How foolish I was to believe that someone could actually love me romantically? That someone could look at me and want me for me, instead of just my body.
He had to be drugged to love me. He literally had to be out of his mind to love me. Am I so unlovable? I devoted 6 months to my ex and they still couldn't love me by the end. Now he's also pulling away.
Is this a sign? Should I just give up on finding love? Because whenever I seek it, I get burned to such a degree I wonder if it's even worth it. I just want to be wanted. I'm not asking for the moon. Still, it seems that life is intent on fucking me in the ass whenever I gain even a modicum of happiness.
3 months. 3 fucking months it was supposedly mutual. I liked him, he liked me. We fucked, we literally slept together, we planned our future together. He looked me dead in the eyes and said he loved me. Twice. I thought everything was peachy.
It was drugs. It wasn't real. He was too hopped up on antidepressants for it to be real. The medication made him love me. The meds made him want to fuck me. The meds made him say "I love you" two times. But now he's off them. There's nothing clouding his mind. There's nothing stopping him from seeing me as I truly am and pulling away.
Those adoring words and gentle looks, all spurred by chemical intervention. I knew there was no way that he could actually want me. I knew there was no way in hell that someone could look at the mess I am and choose me. I wanted to believe him so bad when he said he wanted me, but here I am yet again, holding the bag, not one bit surprised.
I really thought he was different, I had so much hope that things would be different this time. My desire to be chosen without hesitation clouded my judgement. How foolish I was to believe that someone could actually love me romantically? That someone could look at me and want me for me, instead of just my body.
He had to be drugged to love me. He literally had to be out of his mind to love me. Am I so unlovable? I devoted 6 months to my ex and they still couldn't love me by the end. Now he's also pulling away.
Is this a sign? Should I just give up on finding love? Because whenever I seek it, I get burned to such a degree I wonder if it's even worth it. I just want to be wanted. I'm not asking for the moon. Still, it seems that life is intent on fucking me in the ass whenever I gain even a modicum of happiness.
