in the name of love
Love & Abuse Can't Coexist
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Love & Abuse Can't Coexist 〰️
In the Name of Love
So much has been done to us in the name of love.
The worst pain I have ever felt was not from someone I didn’t know, but from the people I loved the most.
There are so many things wrong with the version of love I was taught and given.
It’s very confusing when the people who would do absolutely anything, burn the whole world down to protect you, are the ones you need protecting from.
It leaves you a little jaded when you can’t really make sense of the fact that abuse comes in many forms and colors, and some of them come in the shade of love.
I was taught that real love is to be a sacrifice, not to sacrifice, but for me as a whole being to be sacrificed.
Because my dreams, feelings, pride, confidence, and hope are all minuscule in exchange for peace.
I refuse to love in the way I was loved.
My version of love is to love without expecting anything in return.
It’s not the strangers we converse with at work who deserve our polite gentleness when we’re reeling inside, but in fact, it’s the people we love who we need to exert power and effort for, to swallow the acid in our throats, even if it burns, and coat our words with sugar and make sure they come out of our mouths in a dancing rhythm, not spite.
It’s the people we love who deserve to see our best, not our worst. We often take advantage of the fact that we know they are bound to us, they will always stay, and this subconsciously unleashes versions of us we do not allow anyone else to endure. But I’ll make sure my loves never see that. I’ll make sure to hide the venom deep behind my eyes, even if it blinds me in the process, and train my eyes to always dig deep and find the love in my heart and mirror it. When they look in my eyes, that’s all they’ll see—the love I have for them.
It’s not new people who we should jump through hoops for, painting an intricately beautiful version of ourselves, interweaving our best qualities in calculated consideration. It’s the ones we love who deserve that, to be loved with caution and fragility, always careful not to hurt them.
My love is the kind that scrubs the tired post work demeanor off my face and digs into my deepest depths to pull out the energy you deserve. Because, despite anything and everything, seeing you is a privilege and I’m so excited to live another day in your presence.
My love is to consistently go the extra mile to consider all the what ifs. Words will not escape my mouth, they will float out with intention and love lingering in every breath.
My love is affection so genuine and earnest you’d think I was specifically made to love you, even on the days when the last thing I would want is to be touched.
My love is when I’m angry, I will protect you from me. I will slaughter my own beasts with all my might before they ever reach you. I will water down the rage with anything and everything I have, even if it costs me. I will will a reservoir of endless streams of water, even in extreme droughts, to put out all the fires before I meet your eyes.
My love is when you do something that upsets me, enrages me, that I told you not to do—I will run through 99 excuses for you and defend you to myself until the judge and jury within me are convinced that you are not only innocent, but I’m guilty of the accusation.
My love is to love without doubts, even if I see it with my own eyes, hear it with my own ears—I will think the betrayal is from them: my eyes and ears. Because you would never intentionally hurt me.
My love is granting you the best versions of me. It’s saving the best parts of me for you. It’s rationing my resources to ensure you get the absolute best.
My love will not hurt, scream, or abuse… and certainly not in the name of love.