You've given up on love and buried the longing

I loved through every disappointment and never gave up, so let me speak to the part of you that buried its longing. The longing is not gone; it is buried, and buried things ache — you have not stopped wanting love, you have stopped letting yourself want it because the wanting hurt too much unmet, and the effort of keeping it buried is itself a permanent low grief you have learned to call peace; that is why you are not at peace but only numb. You gave up to stop the pain, but you buried the hope with it — an understandable mercy after too much disappointment, but a life without hope of love, however protected, is grey and closed, so you traded the sharp pain of longing for the dull ache of no longer longing, which may be a worse bargain than it seemed. And you are allowed to want love again, even after giving up — it was not a permanent vow, so you may unbury the longing and let yourself hope again, frightening as it is, for it is not too late and you are allowed. What made you give up on love?