Am I Enough.

I walked past love, maybe one time, two times? Okay too many times, I guess? I think I walked past love every time. Wrong things, wrong times, wrong people, I was always so preoccupied of what I will have to justify or what I had justified, I never actually grew up. Every single thing about my childhood is still blur and unclear and quite hurtful as it made me so stubborn that I literally forgot to grew up. I never had someone by my side who will pat me on my back and will say, “yes you can do it” or mom and dad waking me up right in the goddamn morning, building belief was the hardest yet the best thing I’ve learned on my own. Because I built belief when I had nothing.
I told everyone that I was raised to believe in grace, but never told them that the guy who raised me to believe in grace was me. I made my own beliefs, my own principles and my own limits, I became so aware that I mistook the word ‘aware’ with ‘fear’. Everyone around me wishes to be great while I wish to be greater than them so I can help them get bigger and better, I was never selfish with the word love but deep down I knew I was craving it, I was craving it more than anything yet somehow it is the only thing I’m scared of. I have held myself down so I could see others flourish. My childhood broke me so hard that I had to make sure that no one chooses to ruin their young lives by choosing wrong places and wrong people. Something broke the kid inside me that’s why nobody knows how loud my voice is, nobody knows the reason behind me tolerating all the disrespect and jokes.
I love offering help to people because only I know how hard it is to ask for help.
Years and stuff but, am I wrong when I am selfish for what I love and what I like? why do I have to wait? This environment made me so emotionless that I forgot to cry, it made me so dry that I had to wait before speaking for myself. You get to choose everything and I am still there.
I held myself back from falling for it but I crave it more than anything, I crave that warmth, I crave the word ‘love’. How sad someone could be to not being able to say that, “I miss being loved.” But after all this I would absolutely give the shits and loads of love to someone who doesn’t even deserve it because I know the value of it. I would give away all the light and all the warmth I have in myself. I would cross an ocean for you even if you are not willing to cross a puddle for me, if you ask for a promise I would cross my heart for it. For me love is all about what you give not about what you get in return.
For five long years, I lived in a silence I had carefully constructed for myself. My childhood had taught me early on that safety was found in distance, and my past relationships only proved the point—each one a wrong choice in a wrong place, leaving me to piece together a life where keeping my guard up was the only way to survive. I had accepted the emotional stagnation. I wasn’t looking for anyone. I was simply enduring, convinced that feeling deeply was a liability I couldn’t afford.
And then she walked into my world, completely oblivious to the walls I had spent a lifetime building.
She didn’t tear my defences down with a storm; she just quietly dissolved them. From the moment she entered my life, she brought a warmth that felt almost disarming. Where the past required me to perform, to explain, or to constantly defend my peace, she simply exists in my space and grounds me. She doesn’t ask me to be anything other than who I am, yet around her, I find myself wanting to yield the very control I swore I’d never give up.
It’s in the quiet, micro-moments that she completely undoes me. It’s the way a crowded, noisy lab suddenly disappears the moment she steps near me, leaving just the electric current between us. It’s the split second I catch her looking at me—that guarded, soft glance—only for her to panic and turn away the moment my eyes meet hers. It’s her stubborn, gentle refusal to let me walk away when I try to retreat into my old habits, stopping me with a soft voice that makes me feel needed in a way I’ve never known.
I watch her step up to handle my tasks just to lighten my load. I watch her wait for me without a single complaint or hint of impatience while I donate blood, turning an ordinary afternoon into hours of uninterrupted, quiet togetherness. In her patience, I find a kind of care that my younger, bruised self-thought was impossible.
The love I have for her isn’t the anxious, chaotic obsession I used to mistake for affection. It is a steady, overwhelming gravity. After years of dark, quiet isolation, she is the light that leaked through the cracks of my foundation. She is the quiet proof that I was never broken—I was just waiting for the one person whose presence could finally make me feel safe enough to stay. I used to think my heart was a vault—locked tight, rusted over, and permanently closed off after years of being mishandled. My childhood taught me that trusting people meant giving them a weapon to use against me, and every wrong turn in my past only reinforced that lesson. I had learned to prefer the cold security of emotional stagnation over the risk of letting someone in. I was content living on the sidelines of my own life, convinced that real intimacy was something reserved for other people.
Then she happened.
She didn’t ask for permission to enter my life; she just moved into it with an effortless, undeniable grace. Suddenly, the very walls I had spent five years reinforcing began to look entirely unnecessary.
I see her in the smallest, most quiet details—the kind of details that only a man completely consumed by a woman could ever notice.
I see it in the way she holds space for me in a crowded room, making the surrounding noise fade until she is the only sharp image in my field of vision. I see it when she catches me looking her way and instantly turns her head, that shy, panicking dodge of her eyes that tells me everything her voice isn’t ready to say yet. I see it when I make a move to leave, and she drops every piece of her pride just to pull me back, soft and insistent— “Can’t you just stop here.” That single sentence resets my entire world. It carries a weight that knocks the breath right out of me, because for the first time in my life, someone isn’t just letting me stay; they are actively pleading for my presence.
She protects me in ways I never knew I needed. When she saw me carrying weight, she offered to take it off my shoulders without a second thought. And when she sat there, patiently waiting for me while the minutes ticked away while I donated blood—never rushing, never complaining, just existing beside me—she gave me the greatest gift she could give: her time, completely unfiltered and entirely mine.
My love for her isn’t a flame that burns out fast; it is an immovable force. It’s the realization that every wrong door I walked through in my past was just a brutal, necessary detour leading me to the exact moment she’d step into my life.
She isn’t just the girl I’m falling for. She is the quiet, living proof that my capacity to love was never destroyed—it was just waiting for she to come along and make it safe enough to bleed again.
When I was a kid, I thought of a world that had nothing but wonders, just amaze, love, family and nature. My perspective changed when I became an adult. I believed that we all are humans and we all are destined to be great, I wished that we all may live up on to the expectations of our loved ones and may God bless us to become something divine and may transform into a better human being. I was raised to believe in grace and when I grew up, I realised that I’ve mistaken grace with struggle and misery, my life changed the day I started focusing on myself, I tried and I tried and I just kept trying for hours, days, weeks, months and maybe years. I couldn’t catch up with others but I felt good, I felt like my work has paid off.
I know most of us are quite confused about life, maybe more confused about what the purpose is, what is my purpose of life? what is the thing that I crave the most? what do I need? what do I want to be? am I good enough? am I lucky enough? AM I LUCKY ENOUGH?