((This is writing based on the song cupid by Jack Stauber and my real life experiences from being cupioromantic.))
Cupid
When I was younger, my only real dream was to fall in love and start a family with my very own prince charming. I had no idea what else I would be happy with, after all, it was all my friends ever talked about. So in a way I lied to myself about love, over and over again. I pretended I knew what it felt like to throw myself at whoever I could, time after time. So when I realized I’d never really felt happy with a person, I pushed it down as far as I could. I convinced myself that I could learn to love you. Deep down I knew this would only hurt us both, but when you looked at me like that, what could I really do?
I told you what you wanted to hear, in hopes that i’d feel the same way at your praise. I couldn’t say I was shocked when you told me you loved me, but what am I supposed to say?
Should I just tell you I feel the same?
I don’t.
I want to, I swear. I want you to feel better, even if I don’t. I want you to be happy, you mean so much to me, after all, But I can’t tell you that. I know that you’d say “If I really mean so much to you, than you love me don’t you?” and in a way I do. But I can’t bring myself to lie again. I don’t want to hold your hand or whisper sweet nothings, because that’s all it is, Nothing.
I want to feel loved, wanted, and adored. But I don’t want what they want. People my age who sob over the slightest hint of fading love. At first I believed they were just dramatic and I’d grow into such love, But I didn’t, and now what?
Do I just say that it’s not my time yet? I don’t know, and that’s the thing. I can’t tell why I feel so hollow at your words, that I beg to hear. I don’t know why i’m so desperate to feel something I can’t. I don’t know if the term broken fits me. I don’t think it does, but I don’t know why everyone else says that. I can’t grow into love, or just find the right wonderful person to take all these worries away. I’m not even sure i’d like that.
I don’t want you, or anyone else to kiss me, despite how much I want to be wanted. I’m sure it’s selfish to want love when I can’t give it back, but god knows I do. That’s not fair to either of us.
I can’t tell you how much I want to love you, and a part of me does, just not in the way you need. I love you the way I love how the sun rises, or how the snow falls. I love you like I love the songs the birds sing on foggy spring mornings. I love you the way I love when music tears at me.
I do love you, Just not the way you need.