A few days ago I had a strange feel­ing. The idea that I was a virus stuck in my head. Anything I came in con­tact with became infected.

It just seemed like any­one I’ve become close with has been hurt in some way. It felt as if all my rela­tion­ships always take a turn for the worse, and it’s my fault. I’ll find some tiny, for­giv­able trait, and turn it into a detestable prob­lem. I’ll close off. I’ll hurt someone.

Sometimes I think that I hurt peo­ple to test my bound­aries, to know how much they care. Perhaps I’m so inse­cure in my rela­tion­ships that I need to be sure about how some­one feels about me.

It’s as if I try to be friends with peo­ple I want to offend, so that they will hurt me back in some way, like Travis Bickle. Perhaps I need to be hurt.

I con­stantly feel as if I don’t know how to love. It’s such a fright­en­ingly scary idea. I wish I loved more. So many times I believe that I am expe­ri­enc­ing love, only to real­ize that I’m not, that it was just a fleet­ing emo­tion. Perhaps I need to be hurt to know that I can love.

I’ve only truly loved once. Perhaps it was so intense, so pas­sion­ate, that all other emo­tions feel numb in comparison.

Perhaps I sim­ply don’t know what love is.

I just know that I don’t want to hurt anymore.