I’ll start by saying this: I had a difficult childhood-
but that’s not what this story is about.
I grew up believing that love had to be earned.
That you had to prove yourself to deserve affection.
Achieve something. Behave the right way.
Fit into what someone else expected of you.
When I was a kid, my father only said “ I’m proud of you” or “I love you” when i came home with excellent grades.
That was enough to teach me :
love is conditional.
You must deserve it.
My mother wasn’t there.
I tried to be a good child, but you know how it goes-
hit 15, hormones explode, and suddenly everything falls apart.
We all had that phase. Some lighter, some darker.
Today, while walking down the street, I saw a family with a child.
And a simple question hit me:
Do we really have to earn love ?
The answer is clear: no
We don’t.
This belief is a model passed from parent to a child.
Children learn to love the way they were taught to receive love.
And later in life we repeat the pattern.
Our relationships spin around the same patterns, again and again.
Friday night.
My best friend Tobias and I decided to go out.
He is 25. Gay. Sweet, kind but unlucky in relationships.
Not that I’ve ever been lucky either.
But we’ll get to that.
We went to our usual bar- Friday tradition.
Full, loud, the kind of place where you can drink without caring how you look or who’s watching.
Three cocktails later, we were ready for the next bar.
The second bar was almost empty.
A few people here and there.
Nothing exciting.
Then I saw him.
A boy sitting alone.
Foreign-looking.
Something about him felt interesting.
I said to Tobias:
“Should we go ask if he’s alone?”
“Yeah, why not. Could be fun.”
he said.
So i went.
“Hey, How are you?Do you have a lighter by any chance?”
“I don’t smoke” he said.
“Are you here alone?”
“Yeah. I just arrived a few hours ago. Wanted to visit this bar but it’s empty.”
“Want to come with us to a club nearby?It’s much better.”
“Sure.Why not.”
We finished our drinks and headed out.
There was something very attractive about him.
Two more cocktails in the club and everything shifted.
Suddenly we were kissing, while Tobias held our drinks.
I saw the look on his face- maybe jealously , maybe disappointment, maybe both.
He left
And it was just me and him.
I told him:
“Hey, let’s go home.”
“I want to stay a bit more…” he mumbled.
“Come on, let’s go.”
We somehow managed to stumble out.
It was 3 a.m.
The city was quiet.
Empty streets.
Just us.
And for a moment-
I felt something I hadn’t felt in years.
“Hug me.
Kiss me.
Right now.” I said.
And he did.
It felt like a movie scene — two strangers, wrapped in night,holding something fragile between them.
The emotions were overwhelming.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the oxytocin, maybe something else-
but it was beautiful.
We went home together.
Spent the night.
He left quickly in the morning.
But his presence stayed.
I was thirsty for more.
Not for water-
for warmth.
For closeness.
For someone who stays without being asked.
I realized I’ve been walking through life dehydrated.
And this boy.. he gave me a sip.
A tiny moment of what i had been starving for.
and it made me wonder:
Aren’t we all thirsty for love?
