Bad At Love | ✔️

eleven

The rain hurled wildly against the window pane of the lonely apartment. I had been alone for the last couple of weeks. Sofia had been crashing over at Nic's place. She stopped by to retrieve clothes and say hello every few days. We had managed to sneak in an afternoon with homemade pina-coladas the other day - but today was not one of those days. The weather had been murky since five that morning. The sound of rustling trees and rushing wind woke me more times than I could count.

Thankfully, I had managed to convince Frank to close the shop for the day. The weather radar suggested this would be an all day affair. So, I sat snuggled in the crevices of my couch. The soothing sound of the rain soothing my nerves while the news played in the background. My hands warmed from the fresh mug of coffee in my hands. Despite the harrowing weather, my morning had progressed with ease.

The tips of my finger ran along the edge of the mug. The tiny specks of runaway coffee spilling onto the pad of my index finger. I pressed my thumb over the drops, rubbing my fingers together. The once visible drops now blended into my hand

I eyed the now clean skin.

The space the coffee once covered with its brilliant brown was now rubbed away into oblivion. I sighed subtly as my mind wandered to deeper thoughts about life. I had long ago come to terms with how my life had ended up. But the more I sat alone in this apartment, the more I had to think to myself.

This time was spent reminiscing my past and how it still affected me to this day. I had long ago stopped dwelling on my mistakes with my family, longing for solace with them again. Now, I was more caught onto how lost I felt

I was always falling behind in love.

As a young child, I was unable to control my emotions - and there were always plenty of them. I could feel all them at once, or sometimes none at all. I would give my all, whether it be love and loyalty or friendship and honesty. I submerged myself into my relationships with other people. I had the heart a child shouldn't have. The empathy of a wise soul who'd live a thousand lives, too forced to admit to realities of life a little too soon. Parents who can't seem to get along, incessant competition between sisters. All those uncontrollable emotions bursting at the seams. I did nothing but put myself on the back burner. Soaking in all the bad habits and toxic knowledge I was surrounded by.

Maybe I could blame them on being bad at love...

I knew it was wrong. Their incessant arguing and habitual physical altercations were always occurring in the home. No matter how many times we moved to escape the small town rumors. They always followed closely behind us in the shadows. I was young, but not naive. I knew they weren't a good couple, I could see that when I saw my other friend's parents. I remember being young and promising to myself I would never be like them

But I should have known better...

Their continuous indiscretions and bad habits seeped into my brain and built a home. I developed bad habits without realizing.

I habitually chose the wrong men, knowing they weren't the one for me. I knew the men I chose were in bad taste. And the regrets I would have to live with would sleep under my pillow, like the monsters who hide under my bed. The demons lurking in my closet, casting shadows across my closet. But the more my mind wandered to the thought of Silas. His alluring smile and captivating touch captured my heart more than I had liked to admit.

I couldn't bring myself to text him despite thinking of him nonstop. I realized I didn't think I deserved happiness, let alone a loving and healthy relationship. I couldn't help myself, but I shot him a quick text, my heart on my sleeve.

I was raised in an environment that held inappropriate interpersonal methods and irrational approaches of thinking. I saw a love fall to the depths of no return. I couldn't mend their hearts, let alone my own. Maybe they healed, maybe they didn't. I don't know.