Rethinking Love in its true Form, whatever that Means

The last time I was in love, my heart felt like it was going to burst. It was a lie though, Johnny Garrison was just using me as a pawn and then I realized that the love I felt for Johnny...the gratitude that I had for helping me cope with my alcohol poisoning, his black sweatshirt sprinkled with my vomit...his soft blonde hair and stormy blue eyes. I could be sentimental and say he killed my love, but it's not true. I just gave all the love I had to give to the wrong person. Now I believe I have no more left to give.
This week has been a strange week for me. Hormonally, I am a sexual wreck...I usually am a few days after my period ends. Hopefully this desire will back down...
My therapist dove into my first sexual experience, she told me I was lucky that Peter loved me and that my first experience was a happy one. I left the office missing Peter. So what if he can't spell, and he's an alcoholic...he did love me and treated me well and respected me (sort of). I just miss him throwing me against the band room lockers during lunch, his body pressed into mine. I had bruises up and down my arms...but it was so passionate, so enticing...so forbidden...
I hate relying on the kindness of outside sources, of men of my past desperately seeking entrance to something they had years before...of time travelling back to when times were different. I'm a changed person.
West Point Jason has also expressed his love for me...and sadly I cannot return the feelings. I feel trapped in some ninteenth century British novel...where I, the woman that everyone wants...can't do anything to help or save herself from a fate that will haunt her. Murder is her crime because she has no love to give. I have passion, I desire love in all its forms...but even as men boldly step out and confess love, I cannot reply good things.
In all my passionate escapades...I only hope that my future ones will not leave me fulfilled but emptier than before. That's what happens to me. All I ask for is to be respected, not used...cared for, and not stepped on.
I long to be fiulfilled in all aspects. Doesn't everyone?
I shouldn't bitch about how it's not fair...there are plenty of men that care about me...some people have nothing.
I just wish I had love and trust to give...but I don't, that's what makes it so hard.