I’m a senior in high school, and I still haven’t fallen in love. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because something’s wrong with me. At other times, I say it’s normal. Most of the times now, I blame other people. I couldn’t fall in love.
To be honest, there were times when I would be close to falling in love, but I would stop myself. I already knew how much it would hurt to fall in love. The fear of the other person not liking you back. The fear that you only feel that way. The pain when the person will break up with you. The pain when you’re the one who realizes you’re not meant to be.
So I stayed away from love, abstained from it. I found flaws in people’s character as a safety net to not fall in love with them. I found things that would make me angry at a person so that I wouldn’t fall in love.
Because I thought love wasn’t worth it.
But as a senior in my high school, I get to go out to hospitals or clinicals and do clinicals, rotations where I get to follow someone in a clinical setting and observe and sometimes practice healthcare.
In the intensive care unit, as I went in the room of a patient with the nurse I was following, one thing was almost always there.
Family – be it a sibling, a child, a parent, or a spouse.
The people who didn’t have family were in dark rooms. Watching TV, bored out of their minds.
But the people with family? They were happy, or at least, happier than the people without family. They had love, comfort, and everything they needed from their family. But the family caring part didn’t bother me.
It was the love from spouses.
I remember a diabetic patient who couldn’t feel much of their feet. So his wife came and massaged both feet. I watched as the nurse I followed told the patient how lucky he was to have such a caring and loving wife.
She had been with him for a very long time. I saw from the couch that she would even sleep there. The only time she left was when she thought it would be a good time to take a shower at home while her husband’s sister came to watch him.
For a Bell’s palsy patient, a husband would hold her hand. When she had a seizure, he stroked her face and gave reassuring words, and when she calmed down, he grabbed her hand, jolted out of her blanket while she was having a seizure, and placed it under the blanket. He kissed her cheek.
That love is worth dying for. That love is worth the pain and sadness and fear that all comes in a relationship because it’s that love that reminds me of the goodness of people. It reminds me that there will always be people who love each other no matter what.