“Perhaps love was never meant for me; maybe it is best appreciated from afar–like an exotic bird who never visits my garden.”
Teenage Years (15-19): The Quiet Observer
You were sitting by the window at school, watching your friends exude excitement over crushes with blushing cheeks at any mention of names they liked. As much as you tried to recreate that feeling in yourself–imagining heart flutters or stomach-twisting jitters–there was none, just stillness.
“Why can’t I feel this?” You might have asked yourself.
As an observer of love, you were like a biologist observing an exotic species: fascinated yet unswayed. Couples held hands close, stolen glances exchanged, promises whispered or spoken aloud; you mimicked their words and smiled accordingly, yet felt like an outsider watching from outside, reciting lines from an audition you never took part in.
At 17, your best friend confessed her affection for a boy in a voice trembling with emotion. You held her hand while nodding as you understood human emotion, but inside, you felt confused by it all. Later that evening, while standing before your mirror, whispering the words “I love you,” you tested their weight; their words felt hollow without meaning, like shells without oceans.
Early 20s (20-25): A Forced Experiment
Society told you that love would come eventually–You’ll meet someone!–so you waited. And waited. Despite dating for curiosity’s sake and kissing boys to see if sparks would fly, their touches felt more like handshakes than romantic interests, while their words seemed hollow against your skin.
Have you been feeling as though something has broken inside of you? Have you been experiencing pain inside of yourself, even after making sure everything was safe to put back together again? Have you had doubts that something is amiss with you? If that is the case for you, then perhaps something needs fixing immediately.
At 24, you met Him.
Though seemingly different from everyone else, he seemed special to you. His laugh was sweet, and his words deliberate; you studied him carefully to attempt to decode the mystery of love. Gradually and carefully, you allowed yourself to begin experiencing romance for real.
One rainy evening, he held your face and whispered in your ear that he thought they were falling for you. Your mind raced: Is this it or love? In response, you whispered back, “Me too,” hoping this would seal it for both of you.
But love wasn’t a language you were fluent in–it was something new you were discovering every day.
Mid-20s (26-29): Heartbreak That Wasn’t Meant to Hurt You. You were sure you had finally cracked the code of love: memorising his habits, moods, and voice tone when tiredness set in. Convincing yourself that this tender, calculated relationship was what love looked like was deluding you.
One night, you discovered your messages.
Your chest collapsed not from heartbreak but from betrayal, not because you had loved him but simply because you had tried.
You found yourself sitting on the bathroom floor that night, staring into your tearless mirror. “Why does this hurt if I never truly loved him?” was all you could ask yourself as you wept uncontrollably into the toilet bowl. *But the pain wasn’t about him–it was about all of those hopes you had killed that eventually will feel real again.
30s: Thirst and Fear
It’s your 30s now. Your friends have all settled into happy relationships with shared memories, inside jokes and shared plans. While you admire them and their joy, sometimes your thoughts turn inward, and you wonder whether your hands will ever hold someone special who feels like home.
Your heart yearns for true, lasting love, but fear has created barriers around it.
What If I Fail Again? “Am I Just Not Meant For This?”
Last winter, a stranger at a cafe smiled at you for just an instant before you quickly extinguished any potential sparks of attraction by turning away and drinking your coffee while saying things like “not yet” or “maybe never.”
The Ecosystem of an Unloved Heart A woman whose heart has never known love can be likened to a desert: vast and adaptable yet desperately waiting for rain. She adapts, survives and adapts again, but underneath the surface, there exists an undeniable longing.
Love is an ecosystem. Some hearts can be like lush forests, full of life. Others might be like tundras–quieter but still vibrant–while yours might be like an ocean trench–unseen and mysterious, holding onto emotions so deeply buried that even light struggles to penetrate it.
Will You Ever Find Love Again?
Unfortunately, I can’t answer this question definitively, but here’s what I know:
It’s okay if love never comes. Some souls may be meant to love through other means–art, silence and living a life free from regrets. And it doesn’t matter if it comes late; love has no expiration date!
Fear should not be taken as an indication of brokenness but rather as an opportunity to learn.
Perhaps someone will recognise your depth and appreciate you for it, or maybe not.
But no matter what, regardless of love, you feel complete.
Thus, to my teenage self, present self, and future self:
It’s okay if you never experience true love.
Stay assured that you are still enough. And you are still… you.