i knew i loved you when i started making excuses for the way you hurt me

I knew I loved you when I started making excuses for the way you hurt me — this realization didn’t hit me all at once; it crept up slowly, like a painful truth I couldn’t ignore. Love, they say, can blind us, and in my case, it felt like Cupid shot me in the eye. One day, I woke up blind, justifying your actions, explaining away your words, and convincing myself that the pain you caused was somehow my fault. I told myself that maybe it was just a part of loving someone and that the pain you caused was a testament to your love for me.

At first, the red flags were easy to ignore. A careless comment here, a broken promise there. I told myself everyone makes mistakes and no one is perfect. I held onto the good moments, the times when your smile made my heart soar, and your touch felt like home. I believed in the person I fell in love with and wanted to keep that image intact.

But the little red flags grew and multiplied, and so did my excuses. When you were distant, I told myself you were just busy. When you were harsh, I convinced myself you were just stressed. I twisted reality, bending it to fit the idea that our love was worth the pain. I ignored the warning signs, silenced my inner voice, and drowned my doubts with excuses.

"I knew you loved me," I whispered to myself in the quiet of my room. Those words were a fragile lifeline. I wanted to believe your love was real, that it was worth enduring the hurt. I wanted to believe that behind your coldness, there was warmth waiting to be found again. So I stayed, and with each hurt, I became more skilled at making excuses. I did great, didn't I?

But why did I do it? Why did I allow myself to be hurt? Love can be powerful, blinding us to the damage being done. I loved you so much that I couldn’t face the truth. I loved you so much that I let Cupid shoot me in the eye so I could be blind and ignore every disrespect you showed me. I couldn’t admit that the person I loved could cause me so much pain. So, I shielded myself with excuses like a fragile armor against the growing ache in my heart.

There were moments of clarity, brief times when I saw the naked truths. But I pushed them away, fearing the emptiness that would come with losing you. I told myself love required sacrifice, that enduring the pain was proof of my commitment. I wore my suffering like a badge of honor, convincing myself it was a sign of how deeply I loved you.

I wondered if you ever saw the pain in my eyes, if you ever realized the excuses I made to keep us together. Did you know how much I loved you? Did you know that my heart broke a little more each time I defended your actions?

I knew I loved you when I started making excuses for the way you hurt me. It was a bittersweet realization, showing how deeply I felt and how far I would go to keep our love.

But love should not be about making excuses for pain. Love should lift us up, support us, and heal us.

I cannot be stuck in those moments forever. I had to free myself from the chains of your so-called love. I had to leave. I had to face the truth. Love should never require us to excuse the hurt. True love is kind, understanding, and gentle. It does not inflict wounds and then ask for forgiveness. I loved you deeply, but I learned that loving myself means letting go of the pain, the excuses, and the version of love that hurt more than it healed.