The Burden of Love

Have you ever been in love—so in love that you feel both obsessed and enchanted at the same time? There’s this constant pull, this need to connect with that person, almost like your heart depends on it. When you’re sad, they’re the only one you want to talk to, the only one who can ease the heaviness. When you’re happy, you can’t wait to share every little detail of your day, every laugh, every random thought that pops into your head. It’s as if they’re the missing piece of your heart, the part of you that makes everything else feel whole.

But there’s something else that comes with this kind of love—a fear that creeps in quietly. You’re terrified of losing them. As much as you cherish having them in your life, the thought of them slipping away sends waves of panic through your soul. It’s an unsettling feeling, isn’t it? To love so deeply, but also feel vulnerable, like at any moment, the foundation could shake.

I’ve heard people talk about butterflies, but with this person, it’s more than just that fluttering feeling in my stomach. It’s like my heart races whenever I think of them, whenever I’m reminded of how much they mean to me. I didn’t know loving someone could feel so sweet and scary all at once. It’s an overwhelming mix of joy and fear—a delicate balance between wanting to hold on tight and letting things unfold naturally.

Loving someone like this is a beautiful burden. It’s the weight of caring so much, of being so invested in their happiness that it feels like your own. It’s the burden of wanting to protect this precious connection while knowing that love, by its very nature, comes with risk.

But maybe that’s what makes love so profound—the fact that it holds both joy and fear in equal measure. It’s not just about the highs of happiness, but also the depth of vulnerability that comes with it. And somehow, in this blend of sweetness and anxiety, we find ourselves growing, learning, and understanding just how powerful love can be.

So yes, love is a burden. But it’s one I’ll carry gladly, because even in its heaviest moments, it reminds me that I’m alive, that I’m capable of feeling something so deep and true.