#aromantic angst

[mothmanavenue]

would love not to be the straight peoples image of a lonely aromantic that secretly craves romance but guys. I’m feeling pretty lonely and the whole being raised in the promise of companionship thing is starting to eat me alive especially when i know i AM aromantic. guys it’s getting hard to be at peace when im never anyone’s first choice guys

[veryadorabelle]

My therapist now knows the phrase "aromantic angst"

[tssidesfics]

"Love" - An Angsty Poem for the Aromantics (Me)

What is love?

What is love if not a fierceness of the soul,

an unquenchable thirst to know, to support, to cherish,

a need to have close and be close,

not with the body but with the mind, with that intangible center of being that commands us all.

What is love if not a drive, a hunger, a need,

alienating in its extremity?

I know love.

I know it in the late-night conversations held with pixels,

the one who's known me with all my colors faded, with my heart barely beating in my chest.

I have loved with selfish abandon and I have learned to love with caution,

with gentility. For love can raze kingdoms low as it can raise them high,

and love is a potent weapon for which there is no cure,

for once you have loved something--truly loved something--then how can you ever know indifference to it again?

Love has purged itself from me, a dagger through the chest,

a fountain pouring forth without my consent.

I have loved recklessly and foolishly.

I have chased love and hungered for it,

I have relished love and hated it,

I know love, for I have been its warrior and its victim.

Yet you would come to me, here in a puddle of my blood and tears,

and you would tell me that this beast which I have wrangled is in fact a fraud,

when I know and pledge it true with all my being?

You would tell me that to love is a meeting of the lips,

a hunger of the flesh, a mold to be fit en masse,

never questioned, never rejected, only accepted,

no matter how limiting. No matter how it crushes your heart,

that thing which you claim loves though it only beats for the sake of indifferent life;

you would call your prison love?

I have hated myself. I have decried my name

and reckoned myself among the villains. I have

called myself Satan and Antichrist, I have called

myself misfit and fool, I have known a hatred fierce

for the self and the self without mercy. I know hatred

as I know love, yet you would tell me to choose the burn of one, lie to be about the other?

You would devalue the gauntlets I have battled for those I love

and tell me I am right to hate this loveless heart of mine?

Live one day with the wounds I have, the memories I have, the losses I have

and tell me that feeling is not love.

I know there are others like me. I have seen them cry

and jest through pixels on a screen, I heard of them before I knew myself,

I know I am not alone,

yet I stand in a room as it echoes, my voice bouncing endlessly into the abyss.

Somewhere in the darkness, there was another, a light,

but now that light has gone dim,

and I feel alone. I feel loveless. Yet I have loved.

I know love. I tell myself that as I lay myself to sleep.

It's a chant, a prayer, a melody.

I know love. I know love. I know love.

(I am not broken.)

I know love.

(But what if I'm lying?)

[frogsdobegay]

don’t you love when a supposed ‘friend’ just so happens to ‘forget’ crucial parts of ur identity, like using the she/her when I’m a man or asking about my love life as an aromantic who doesn’t want to date ever again

mind you, a friend that I’ve had for the last 5 years, like not some new person in my life whom I could easy forgive and move on

[actualmalakai]

Does love mean the same thing to you as it does to me? Is yours somehow better and mine worse? Does my "I love you" Carey the same weight as yours? Or is it just a rough stone to bast aside?