Incapable of Love

Incapable of love.
Incapable of love.
You are not capable of loving or receiving love.
Incapable of love.
Years later the words play in my head over and over.
I bang my head on the wall to make them stop, but they do not stop and I get a headache. Like usual.
The words repeat themselves and the ceiling fan turns to their rhythm and I feel powerless to fight them,
as powerless against them as I was when they were said years ago.
If she had known those words would be etched in my soul, in quotes with her name attached, would she have said them?
But it doesn’t matter, because they were said, and cannot be unsaid, and the brand burned deep in my soul doesn’t even have the balm of regret to soothe it.
Incapable of love
A husband and two children later – the firstborn said ‘I uboo’ at 4 months old because he heard ‘I love you’ all day long.
And I still worry that maybe it’s true, and I am doomed to failure, and to make everyone I care about miserable
For the rest of my life.
And when I die it will be on my tombstone:
Here lies Lana: Incapable of love.
Which is probably one of my least rational fears.
Because my husband, who has promised to do his best to outlive me,
always calls me
Lana the Beloved
despite the voice in my head saying he must be lying, because I am not lovable
I fight to believe it.
Loved and loving.
Lana the broken, whose split heart pours forth both bitter sadness, and love.

5 thoughts on “Incapable of Love

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