BLEEDING HEART- The Weight Of Wanting To Be Chosen

Laura began measuring her life by the moments she spent with Daniel. Mornings felt lighter when she knew she would see him after her lectures, while evenings felt heavy and hollow when he was busy. Her phone became an extension of her own heart; every vibration made her chest flutter, and every long silence made her stomach tie itself in knots. She hated how much power he held over her, but in a strange way, she loved it too.

They started studying together in the quiet, tucked away corners of the library. Sometimes they barely even opened their books, spending hours talking about their dreams, their deepest fears, and childhood memories. Daniel spoke about growing up in a strict household where he always felt he had to prove his worth. That shared sense of pressure made Laura open up more than she ever had before. One night, she confessed that she constantly felt like she was both too much and never enough at the same time. He looked at her and promised that she never had to be anyone else when she was with him.

That sentence stayed with her like a vow. From that day on, her guard dropped. She started dressing with his tastes in mind and laughed a little louder whenever he was nearby. She began to swallow her own opinions if she thought they might annoy him, loving him with a careful, quiet intensity.

Whenever he did not reply to her messages for hours, her mind would spiral. She wondered if she had said something wrong or if she was being too needy. She would stare at her screen, fighting the urge to send another text or apologize for things she had not even done. She was terrified of scaring him away because losing him felt too much like losing her entire world again.

One evening, they sat under a tree near the hostel as the sky bruised into a deep purple sunset. He reached for her hand and traced idle circles on her palm. Her heart pounded as she admitted she was scared of loving him more than he loved her. He went quiet for a moment, then smiled softly and asked why she always jumped to the worst conclusions. She leaned into his shoulder instead of answering. The comfort felt dangerous, like a sudden warmth after years of freezing cold.

That night, she wrote in her journal for hours. She asked herself why love felt like a blessing and a threat all at once. She started noticing changes in herself that she did not like, such as how she would cancel plans with Sade just to be available for him, or how she lied about being fine even when he hurt her feelings. She was losing herself piece by piece, yet she convinced herself that this was just what love looked like—that it required sacrifice. She stood before the mirror one morning, fixing her hair and thinking that if she were only more beautiful or more confident, he would never want to leave. Her reflection started to look like a stranger.

Daniel finally asked her to be his girlfriend on a Thursday outside the cafeteria. Her heart skipped when he said he was tired of pretending they were just friends. She whispered yes, and his hug felt like a homecoming. That night, she could not sleep, replaying his words over and over in the dark.

Their relationship moved with a dizzying speed. He began sleeping over in her room and eventually started going through her phone. One night, he questioned her about a classmate who liked her photos. She explained they barely spoke, and though he dropped it, he told her he did not like other guys being in her space. Her stomach tightened, but she laughed it off to keep the peace. Later, she quietly unfollowed three male friends just to avoid a confrontation.

The first real crack appeared when Sade invited her to a birthday party. Laura hesitated, already anticipating Daniel’s reaction. When she texted him, he asked if her friends were suddenly more important than him. Her chest tightened, and she called him immediately to explain. He told her that if she truly respected him, she would not go. Silence followed as her mind raced, but she chose to stay behind. Sade did not answer her messages that night, and Laura sat in her room feeling both cherished and trapped.

A major red flag waved two weeks later. She had worn a fitted dress to class, but when Daniel saw her, his smile vanished. He asked who she was trying to impress and told her she was dressing like she was single. Her throat burned with shame, and that night, she pushed the dress to the very back of her suitcase. She was learning that love should not be this loud or painful, yet it already was.

She began to shrink again, reverting to the version of herself she had been at home. She stopped posting photos and pulled away from her friends. One evening, she told him she felt like she was losing her identity. He simply sighed and asked why she had to overthink everything. When she asked for a little space, he snapped, asking if she did not love him anymore. Tears blurred her vision, and her heart felt heavy with guilt. She promised she was not going anywhere, and in that moment, her last boundary vanished.

By the fourth month, Daniel was the center of her universe. He held the keys to her self worth. If she spoke too much, he would pull away. If she cried, he would turn cold until she apologized for being too emotional. He told her she ruined perfectly good moments with her overthinking. She swallowed her pain and said she was sorry, and he would soften, telling her that was exactly why he loved her.

Slowly, she began to believe that every bit of friction was her fault. If he canceled plans, it was because she was too demanding. If he disappeared, it was because she was suffocating him. She started policing her own emotions, crying silently in the bathroom so he would not accuse her of being dramatic.

One Tuesday, she went to the library to surprise him with lunch. She heard laughter and saw Daniel sitting far too close to a girl from their department, his hand resting firmly on her thigh. Laura’s vision blurred and her hands shook as she pushed the door open. Daniel stood up abruptly and asked what she was doing there. When she pointed out his hand on the girl’s leg, he told her she was overreacting and making a scene.

He claimed he was only comforting the girl because she was having a hard day. Laura’s tears fell as she realized he had lied about being there to study. He rolled his eyes and accused her of playing the victim again. He told her she was embarrassing him and that her jealousy would eventually be the reason he walked away.

Her heart felt like it was collapsing. She wanted to scream, but she only managed to whisper that she just wanted to feel safe. He stepped closer and told her she was safe, but that she needed to stop sabotaging their relationship. He pulled her into a hug, but she felt completely hollow inside.

That night, he sent a message saying she needed to work on her insecurities. There was no apology for the lie or the broken trust. She typed and deleted a dozen responses before finally telling him she was terrified of losing him. He replied that she should not push him away then. He won.

The next day, she apologized for catching him and for ruining his mood. She bought him lunch and promised to be better. He accepted her apology like a king granting a pardon. But something deep inside her had shifted. She started having panic attacks and began to doubt her own memory of events. She checked his social media obsessively, feeling physically sick whenever he smiled at his phone. Her grades plummeted and she stopped eating. She would whisper to her reflection, asking why she was never enough, but the mirror never had an answer.

Laura began measuring her life by the moments she spent with Daniel. Mornings felt lighter when she knew she would see him after her lectures, while evenings felt heavy and hollow when he was busy. Her phone became an extension of her own heart; every vibration made her chest flutter, and every long silence made her stomach tie itself in knots. She hated how much power he held over her, but in a strange way, she loved it too.

They started studying together in the quiet, tucked away corners of the library. Sometimes they barely even opened their books, spending hours talking about their dreams, their deepest fears, and childhood memories. Daniel spoke about growing up in a strict household where he always felt he had to prove his worth. That shared sense of pressure made Laura open up more than she ever had before. One night, she confessed that she constantly felt like she was both too much and never enough at the same time. He looked at her and promised that she never had to b