I used to think that being loved by someone was what would prove that I am living the highest way of life. So, that’s the goal I always worked toward. In every piece of media I ingested, may it be a novel or movie, it would always end when the couple finds a way where they can love each other. There wasn’t a time when I wasn’t romantically involved with someone. Even if it was cheap affection or over my boundaries, I’d take it all upon myself to accept it. Because I’d rather feel a little bit of love from the wrong places than feel nothing at all. I frame myself as the good one in the relationship, the one who does anything because I value loving the other more than being loved by them. But all I am is a huge liar, I do everything for the sake of being loved. And looking back at my past relationships, I question whether I truly loved them for them or did I just love them to feel the “love” they gave me deeper than it actually is. I know the last two people I’ve been with genuinely loved me. This girl from high school and this guy from the other side of the world. In hindsight, these two fell into the same cycle with me. I find something lacking so I leave… but I come back because I miss their love.. then I leave again. I find myself stuck in this continuous loop until I’ve completely drained the other and I’ve driven them away for good. Both of them wanted to show me what true love felt like and I did feel it for a good while. But the problem came with my emotions and how they were with it. Both of them were willing to understand me and give me the emotional support that I needed. But no matter what kind of translation I did, all that they could do was hear me. I never felt listened to by either of them. Then I felt I couldn’t be with them because they were unable to connect with me, they didn’t have the emotional fluency I needed. And I thought, “How could I be with someone who can’t touch my soul?” Yes, they’ve both touched my heart so deeply by how much they love me. I thought that love was enough but that was my biggest mistake. In the end, I chose to lose them. I know I genuinely loved them. When we were apart I’d miss the girl’s broken shoulder and the guy’s pink nose among many other things, more than the love they had for me. I’ve been loved and I’ve loved, I know that now. I’ve had a taste of my old concept of “the highest way of life.” But what I crave more than being loved is to be truly understood. I just need someone to prove that this dry hunger isn’t insatiable