Even If I’m Not The One, How Far Love Can Burn Me Before It Turns Me To Ashes. | by Dwi Anggini | Oct, 2025
Sometimes, love isn’t grand gestures or perfect timing. Sometimes, love is quiet and aching, and it hurts in ways no one can see.
I do fall for you. I’ve fallen deeper and that I know the only way to do it right is to trust you. To trust that even if I know you are afraid, even when you’re doubting, even when you are pulling back. But my love won’t suffocate you.
Sometimes trust feels like I’m standing on a cliff blindfolded. Your head whispers fears that I can’t chase away. What if it ends? What if it’s only me still holding on? And yet, trust is the only air that love can breathe.
I just want to love you in the best way that I can — even if I’m not perfect. I want to be the best version of myself, so that when I’m with you, I won’t be a weight, a burden. I won’t hurt you the way you’ve never hurt before. That’s why I love you — and to be careful, tender, and deliberate.
It’s exhausting, it is. Loving someone whose heart has been burned feels heroic, quiet, and tragically human. I want you to know that love isn’t always scary, that not everyone will hurt you the way someone else did. But I can’t make you believe that — not yet. Not if you’re still protecting yourself.
Yes, you are protecting yourself. You’re building walls, not because you don’t care, but because you do. People who don’t care don’t bother fortifying their hearts; people who’ve been burned call safety the same thing as distance. And the irony is cruel. I came to bring warmth, not fire, darl.
Still, I tend to choose to love you this way. To be the quiet light beside you, even if I never get to be yours “forever.” Because loving doesn’t mean owning — it just has to be showing up with honesty, care, and patience. Even if it bleeds. For me.
I know it will burn me. I know I’ll keep showing up until you tell me to stop, until you say that I’m annoying, until I feel the fire finally too close. And maybe that’s how I’ll learn the size of my own heart — by seeing how far love can stretch before it snaps.
You’re scared of the idea of “forever”. And you’re honest about it — you said that you missed me, and loved me too, but you just can’t yet turn this love into something permanent. And that’s okay. It proves that you’re only a human. Loving someone in this space means sitting with the in-between: you’re here, you care, you love… but you just can’t promise together.
My heart wants an idea to be together, with you. But your heart wants space. Loving you now means embracing the tension without rushing it, without trying to untangle it too quickly.
Sometimes, the bravest kind of love isn’t holding someone too close. It’s standing beside them, letting them heal, letting them breathe, and still loving with full honesty — even if you’re not the ending.
Because love isn’t always about forever nor about being together. Sometimes, it’s about presence. And sometimes, loving well means trusting that the person you love will find their light again — even if it’s not with you.
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