💔My Love Was First, a Lie

They say love hits you when you least expect it.
For me, it came on a quiet day, wrapped in the softness of laughter and the warmth of attention. She smiled often, spoke gently, and had this way of making ordinary moments feel noticed. I thought it was love. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

I had been lonely for a while — not the kind of loneliness that comes from being alone, but the kind that lives inside even when people surround you. When she came around, she filled that space. She replied when others didn’t, she listened when others brushed me off. Her presence made the silence in my life feel smaller.

So I mistook relief for affection.
And comfort for connection.

At first, every chat felt like a spark. Every smile felt like a promise. I started calling more, wanting to hear her voice, to hold onto that little peace she gave me. But the truth was simple — I didn’t love her; I just didn’t want to feel empty anymore.

Love wasn’t what I was chasing. I was chasing attention. I wanted to be seen, wanted to feel needed again. And she became the closest answer to that desire.

Now I realize, what I called love at first sight was really a lie I told myself — a lie built from need, not choice. Because love isn’t desperate. It’s calm, patient, and sure. It doesn’t rush to fill a void; it waits to grow roots.

So yes, my love was first, a lie.
But it taught me something true — that sometimes the heart confuses comfort for connection, and attention for affection.

Now, I’m learning to sit with my own silence. To let peace come from purpose, not people.
And yet, beneath all that calm, a question lingers — I’m still unsure if what I’m searching for is love or just lust, lost somewhere between the two.

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