My workplace’s Claude limits ran out.

I decided to code without it, but I couldn’t; I found an alarm bell ringing in my head; you know what they say about ideas. And I have to get this thought out of my head and into yours.

So I’ve lived a fair bit! I’ve run through so many people; from shy bookworms to nomadic deviants. This, and talking at length with people all across the spectrum of genders.

I notice; a significant part of what makes people the person they are is how they love and who they’ve loved. I say this because every 2 AM vulnerable conversation I have with ex-strangers and to-be strangers, the questions and stories we end up sharing have been either about this, or root from this part of their history.

Something common I saw across all of these people, including me. And not just us, but everywhere in art as well, is that…

People just want to love, not be loved

What do you mean?

I’ll answer your question with a question;

If a million people truly loved you, but you didn’t love them back, would it make your day any better? Would it make a difference to you?

To me, it won’t matter. And I’d wager it’s much the same for most people who are actually in these positions, much like any actress in Bollywood; or one of the BTS blokes. Neither would the millions occupy my mental space nor would they change my day-to-day.

Though this would be completely different if I was in love with someone, this would eat up my mind;

Which is amazing. It has led me to create;

I’ve started learning instruments

I’ve planted trees metaphorically and literally

Started reading, writing

Hell, I built my entire career because I was in love. I wanted to become someone I’d be proud to ask another person out as.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Loving people has made me a better person.

That is healthy.

But the same instinct that makes us want to become better can also keep us chained to people who never asked us to stay, and it becomes a self-consuming day dream, doesn’t it?

I feel like to possess the ability to accept love in the first place, you first have to acknowledge that you are worthy of being loved.

I think with the lack of that:

People get caught up in the “Why would they?” or “Do they really?” when love presents itself to them; missing out on genuinely amazing connections no matter how temporary. People are outside, begging to be let into your house and help you rebuild it into a home, and you are too scared to let them in and see the broken picture frames.

Or they keep following a bread crumb trail that they know will lead to heartbreak and are okay with some small hope. Optimism is amazing, but at some point, hope stops being optimism and becomes denial. Falling for breadcrumbing is just gaslighting yourself. People spend years living as guests in other people’s homes. How long will you?

And then there’s these two perpendicular parallels; They’re opposites on the surface, yet both avoid the vulnerability of mutual intimacy:

The fuckboys who enjoy the thrill of the chase and seek it by jumping from one person to another, while seeing their dates as a number; and the stans in “parasocialships” who are genuinely in love with someone who sees them as a number. In both cases, mutual intimacy is replaced with something safer. How long will you go before you see; Your house is on fire while you sit in a stranger’s home.

Everyone always comes back to their house. And soon, you; You shall eventually come back to your own house only to feel the rot in the decayed white walls.

Only when you listen to the doorbell ringing, will the alarm bells in your head disappear.

If this thought has made its way into yours, I hope it finds you at home.