Sometimes Love

There’s a thing called sometimes love, and it’s intoxicating. Don’t mistake this for the cultural buzzwords on narcissism and toxicity — we’re keeping it simple. Sometimes love is when it feels really good…

sometimes.

When they lock eyes with you and see you. When they finally say the thing you’ve been aching to hear, do the thing you’ve been asking them to do. And for a moment, you breathe. For a moment, you think, this is it. But it’s just…

sometimes.

And that’s what makes it so dangerous.

You’ve been waiting. Hoping. Wishing. Praying. Manifesting. Lying on the ground in meditation, arms stretched out, imagining you already have everything you desire. You’ve been showing up, doing the work, acting as if, believing in what’s yours. And then,

sometimes,

you get it. And when you do, it feels so damn good that you forget. You forget that it’s just sometimes. You forget the silence that came before. The absence. The confusion.

And this? This kind of love will disorient you. Especially if you grew up in a home where love came and went. Where love was warm one day and cold the next. Because we know this: abusers are not always abusing. And even outside of abuse, people love in fragments. They love in cycles. And we, the ones conditioned to sometimes love, mistake those cycles for something whole.

Let’s get one thing straight. These are not bad people. Spirituality does not judge. Spirituality observes. It allows. It recognizes that everyone operates at their own level of consciousness. So sometimes love isn’t about them being malicious, which is quite counter-culture. It’s simply how they love. It’s how they show up. And sometimes they can, and sometimes they can’t or don’t.

But here’s where we go wrong.

We try to figure it out. We analyze. We decode. We justify. We search for the why.

But spirituality does not ask why. It simply accepts.

Peter Crone says that suffering comes from denying reality. That pain comes from resisting what is. So what if we stopped denying reality? What if we looked at the course of our relationships with clear eyes? We might see that sometimes love is just a counterfeit manifestation. A false promise. A trick. A test.

The truth? Sometimes love is the crumbs of connection. It’s someone giving you just enough to keep you near — whether consciously or unconsciously, whether manipulative or not. It’s the kind of love that has you questioning your sanity, standing at the edge of yourself, wondering if you can survive another minute of this whiplash. It’s the love that makes you feel like you’ve won the lottery one day, lost everything the next.

And here’s the hardest part.

Sometimes love can feel like home. It can feel like destiny. Because if you grew up in a home where love was intermittent, where safety was conditional, where warmth was a guessing game — then sometimes is what you know. And we all gravitate toward what we know.

So what do we do?

We stop trying to understand them. We stop justifying why they love like this. Instead, we turn inward and ask:

Do I feel sometimes loved?

And if the answer is yes, then we trace the pattern. Have I always felt sometimes loved? Have I always felt sometimes safe, sometimes seen, sometimes held? And if sometimes is a theme in my life, then maybe — just maybe — this isn’t about them at all.

Maybe it’s about how I love myself.

Because if I am allowing sometimes love, I might be sometimes loving myself, too. Maybe I only show up for myself when it’s easy. Maybe I ignore my own needs. Maybe I leave myself behind the same way others have.

And here’s the shift.

If I stop sometimes loving myself — if I start showing up with full, unwavering, unconditional, always love — everything outside of me will change. My relationships will fall into place, not because I force them to, but because I no longer accept anything less.

So here’s the question:

Do you want to be loved always?

Then start always loving yourself.