"I knew he was red"

I knew he was red but I still loved him. I wasn't dumb for giving him the love I thought he deserved. I chose to love him and I did not regret that because my feelings were real.

 People kept on asking me why I loved him even though there were red flags waving in front of me every time he walks in. They're telling me that it was such an impulsive move to even welcome him inside my life that fast. He was a pocketbook, easy to read. My friends already knew what he's capable of doing the first time that they saw him. They told me about it, I didn't turn a blind eye, I was aware of what I'm doing. I wasn't here to justify his mistakes, I just want to be honest with myself-- I knew he was red but I still loved him.

I was a mess back then, I didn't know the real meaning of love but I knew I was craving it. I accepted the love I thought I deserve. I settled for less and I didn't know it. I thought love was all about giving, that's what I've learned as the eldest in the family. So I gave my all, I swallowed my pride and accepted his scarring words every time he's angry.

I also thought that love was meant to be painful, I was raised in a family where physical abuse was a form of discipline, therefore a sign of love. So I stayed with him even though he's already emotionally manipulating me into thinking that love was normally a torturous journey. I trusted him, I believed in him-- I knew he was red but I still loved him.

Nobody had ever told me how beautiful I was even in my most exhausting days, only him. He assured me that I am still lovable even with my traumatic past. He embraced the flaws that I can't accept in myself, he loved my imperfections more than I did. He showed the love that was new to me, I thought it was right. I clung to that love because I didn't know my self-worth. I knew he was red but I loved him even more.

I thought fights were normal inside a relationship, so I'm always forgiving him. Forgiveness, I was very generous with it. I was very compassionate and he used that opportunity to hurt me even more. He knew that I was forgiving and he abused those second chances. I let him hurt me-- because I already knew that he was red but I still loved him.

In loving him, I lost myself. 

It took years for me to build myself again, I'm still stumbling and seeing red. 

But I'm bright as a yellow now, I already learned new colors in life. In a process of healing, I saw the colors of the rainbow. 

I'm still trying to forgive myself-- because I already knew that he was red but I still loved him. 

f.m. // I wrote this to remind myself that I'm still in the process of healing. There's no such thing as moving on, just moving forward.