Why is not love enough?

So I end the year the way I started, with only a hope of building friendships which defy my autistic social skills, but rest solely on the merits of the one thing I believe that should matter, love. I have yet to prove that possible. I have yet to find that way for love to conquer the awkwardness, fear, and lack of understanding that is inherent in who I am, regardless of how much love lies beneath those things. And all I hear is that I need to love myself, and I do, but yet, there is still a hole in a heart that wants only to love and yet does not seem to understand how to do the one thing it wants more to do than any other. That does not understand how to love those it loves in a way that makes them feel loved, in a way that brings them the happiness and joy that love should evoke. I still have to feel that a failure, and my biggest one. And I watch each year go by, and I see myself getting older, yet not apparently wiser in those things that matter to me. And I would love to make love my New Year’s resolution. And in some manner it will be. Yet just loving, without understanding, seems to have gotten me no further at the end of this year than I was at the end of the last. And I don’t really know where that understanding lies, or I would go grasp it by the horns and shake it until it irretrievably became part of me. Love alone should be enough. Yet somehow, I seem to be more proof that it is not, instead of being what I wished I somehow could be, an example of how it is…

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