Why is it so scary to give 100% to love?

Time and time again, I always read about how you should give 110% to everything right for you. Why is it that love seems to be the exception? Why is it that everything that you work hard for you will eventually receive, but when it comes to love, it looks like that is something that should just come quickly. At some point, it shouldn’t ever be so hard to love is what you always get told or see in the movies or read in the books.

Why is it that when a man loves a woman, it’s perceived as a loss of masculinity. You always lose man points with the fellas, and you become a “simp” or something like that. When a woman falls for a man, she’s a fool, or in some cases, it just seems like the right thing to do. Why do we have this thought process that a woman should be more forgiving than a man? If a man was to put a woman in a predicament, it’s on her to forgive him, but if the roles were reversed, it more than likely would be easy for the guy not to be judged for leaving. He might be judged for taking so long to move on in the first place.

I’m sure I know why that is, but what I have such trouble understanding is why do you allow this to continue? Why do we believe it? Why is it that when I share how I feel about a girl, I get hit with the “aw that’s so cute,” and I suddenly feel like I’m doing too much or I’m also extra. However, when I’m doing a shit load of work for a corporation that could replace me in a heartbeat, it’s almost applauded. I’m giving compliments for being a hard worker, and my work ethic is ultimately admired and praised.

I know of maybe a few of my buddies that do this, and I think they’re the ideal situation. They could care less about what anybody from the outside circle thinks of them. They do whatever they can to keep the only clique that matters, their love circle, happy. I think I have even made comments toward this because I think I’ve put love first only in a few situations, and I think the biggest issue is the vulnerability you’re if something was to happen. Suddenly all of your feelings are in one basket, and if someone was to take your basket, you don’t know how you’d react.

I think that’s the danger of love. Love can come back and hurt you like hell. I don’t know if anybody has ever died from a broken heart, but I can recall how hard even a minor heartbreak hurts, and it’s not pretty. It also makes you wish you could make that pain stop. Food doesn’t taste the same. Your old hobbies just don’t seem to relax you like before. You even have to stop yourself from writing so much about it because ultimately, the only thing keeping you from going insane is the amount of writing you’re doing to break down how you’re feeling. It’s a cold world out there; I think we’re the ones keeping ourselves from the blanket at times.