The Right to be Ridiculous

I cheated on my boyfriend at a party. I miss him now. We broke up. I broke up with him because we just weren’t working out. I knew that a long time ago, but I thought I was in love with him. In reality, I’m just in love with being loved. I love the affection, crave the affection, NEED the affection of another. I need the love of everybody I know. I’m upset if I know someone doesn’t like me. He is telling me how awful of a person I am, how I lied to him about everything from the very beginning, and how much he doesn’t need me. Well, in retort, I cleverly refute all his claims. But honestly, he’s right. I just need his affection. I want him to pine over me. I don’t know if I’m a bad person or not. Maybe he’s right. But the lonely little child in me wants the love of everyone, and is willing to manipulate others in order to get her way. Yes, I’m going for the classic fallback of blaming my childhood. Maybe because I’m aware of how I feel about people’s affection I’m better. Admitting it is half the battle after all. Or maybe it makes it worse because I’m aware of what I’m doing and doing it anyway. Or maybe I’m just mad because what my ex said to me was said to purposely hurt me because he’s still angry and hurt. But I also know the fact that he’s hurt because of me, and then I proceed to hurt him more because his words hurt me. I think everyone feels this way to some degree after a bad breakup. My ex-boyfriend feels like he’s exempt from human nature for some reason. I think he’s very young and naive because he keeps emphasizing how much more mature than me he is. Especially because of that, actually. He’s extremely child-like. He thinks he has this understanding about the way the world works, but if you ever listen to kids, they’re usually laughably wrong. And my ex is no exception. I don’t mean this in any sort of bitter, condescending way. I found it endearing when I was with him. I really did believe I loved him when I told him so. A part of me still does. I love him for loving me. I love his physical aspects. I love cuddling with him. I don’t love him. And that depresses me. I have no idea what love actually is. It hurts me that he doesn’t understand any of this. If he was truly mature, he would understand how I feel and why I did the things I did. But instead, I understand why he’s doing the things he’s currently doing, and using that to manipulate his feelings. I’m a horrible person for doing so, and I openly admit that. But I want him to understand how immature he really is. I really hope for his sake that he really grows up and stops believing he’s so mature by actually maturing. He’ll understand one day. I hope. I wish I loved him. I wish I loved someone. I am so in love with the idea of being in love, I’m prevented from actually doing it. I was just talking to this one person about one of my best friends. I know I love that friend. He’s just a good person, through and through. He’s the reason I get excited to come back home, I see him every opportunity that I can, and sometimes that means, quite literally, every day for weeks. I love talking to him, and I respect him so much. He does good things for the sake of doing good things. He doesn’t have any motivation other than that. I really wish I could be more like him. That is what love is, and that is how I figured out that I didn’t actually love my ex. I love my friend for him. Not for myself. There’s no me in this love for my friend. I don’t even tell him how much I love him, but I think he knows anyway. But this same friend is like my brother. I can’t ever imagine being with him romantically. If I try to picture myself kissing him, it’s just the most awkward fantasy I’ve ever had. I used to have a crush on him, but then I really got to know him and started actually being romantically involved with other people, and realize just… no. With me and him. I really wish I was a better person.