I am the type of girl who believes in love. I believe in it so fiercely, but still I find myself single.
I write about love, I talk about love, I dream about love, but I still haven’t found it. I am obsessed with finding love, but am I really ready for it?
I take a look at how I live my life and wonder whether true love fits. I stare deep into my eyes in the mirror and debate what I see. Am I in the place I want to be to introduce love? Am I who I want to be when someone falls for me?
Or could I be breaking my own heart?
I wake up every day and wonder if today’s the day I’m going to meet someone. Will it be at the coffee shop? Will I trip on the street and Prince Charming will rescue me? Will Mr. Right look up from his book on the subway and catch my eye?
I’ve imagined the scenario in so many different ways that I don’t think anything would surprise me. I’ve imagined this whirlwind of a romance, but I haven’t laid down the groundwork to make it stable.
The person I wake up as every single day is not ready for love. I still have not mastered self-control. I have not figured out where I want to be in ten years. I’ve confused love with attention, and a free drink for affection.
I’m not ready for love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think I deserve it.
It’s not like I need to be perfectly symmetrical for love to fit into my life. I don’t need to have everything figured out and my life put exactly into place. I don’t need to know it all… but I need to know more of me.
And I’m still figuring out who I want Me to be.
So I’m breaking my own heart by imagining a love story and not completing the backstory. I’m breaking my own heart because I’m not working on my half before finding my second. He, whoever he is, deserves better than Me.
I believe in love, I want love, and I’m not giving up on it. Yet, in the process, it looks like I gave up on myself. I stopped working towards my dreams. I stopped feeding my soul. I stopped coloring in the life I’ve spent years drawing out.
I’ve stopped loving myself, and I’ll be the first one to admit it.
So why should someone love me if I can’t even do it? So I’m breaking my own heart by creating these fantasies and writing out these fables. I’m fixated on the introduction, instead of what I’ll say about myself once introduced. I’m wasting time.
I’m focusing on the love-at-first-sight moment, but forget about what they’d be looking at past that moment. So how then could someone right love me if I’m not even sure of who I see looking back at me?
I’m breaking my own heart by not working on it.
No one is going to sweep me off my feet unless I’m firmly standing on my own. No one is going to save me. No one is going to change me. It’s up to me to be the person who deserves the same type of love I write about.
I’m done breaking a heart that has so much to give. I’m done with small talk, stolen glances, midnight desperation, morning regrets, and digital romances. It’s time I focus on the person I expect someone to fall in love with.
So here’s to repairing a heart I didn’t realize I was breaking. So here’s to fixing the cracks from past mistakes I didn’t realize Band-Aids didn’t take care of. So here’s to following my dreams and accepting myself for who I am.
Here’s to laying down the groundwork for love to break through.
Here’s to writing my personal love story before incorporating anyone else in it. Here’s to being ready for the type of love I believe in. Here’s to being the person my soulmate deserves.
It won’t be easy, but I’m up for the challenge. I’m not looking for perfection, and I don’t intend to color inside of the lines. I intend to wake up each day knowing what I want, and not being someone who’ll trade true love for infatuation.
I am the type of girl who believes in love, but doesn’t believe in herself. Here’s to changing that, a single stride at a time.