This is it

Romance has passed me by. I will never fall in love again.

Confession: I’m in love with being in love. Butterflies, blushes, lopsided smirks. I want it all. I want passion. I want someone that kisses me and makes my mind go totally blank.

I want someone who gets me. I need someone to understand my movie quotes. I need someone who falls in love with my flaws, in the same way I fall in love with theirs. I love anything imperfect. I love flaws. I once went on a date with a guy who had this one-inch vertical scar on his right cheek. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Him? Not so much. One of those silent, brooding types. I’m the silent, brooding type- there can’t be two in a relationship. We were too much alike. He was too aloof. I need someone who compliments me, gives me all their attention, makes me feel special. Without being smothering.

My longest relationship was almost two years. We lived together for the last year. He was my best friend. I could be my unapologetically weird self with him. And he loved me for it. I could be a selfish brat. I could be straight up cruel and mean. And he still loved me. I fell out of love with him long before we moved in together. But he was comfortable. And I was scared to be alone again. I needed him.

We broke up five years ago. I haven’t had a serious relationship since. I wonder if that was it for me. If that was my chance and I fucked it up. If love really is supposed to be passion-less and comfortable.

I’m still friends with him. We still text. Everything I hated about him when we broke up five years ago is still very much a part of him. I don’t miss him. Not like that. I couldn’t, wouldn’t date him ever again. I just wonder lately if he was it, if that was my only soulmate.

The fucked up thing was I cheated on him and broke up with him. I didn’t cry. I jumped into another relationship with a man 10 years older than me. An alcoholic. He was unavailable. He liked the idea of me but not the messy reality. When I finally caught him texting his booty call of 10 years, I flipped and ended things.

I was so fucking heartbroken. I had this idea of him, this image of us. That fairy tale was shattered and I was left alone to pick up the pieces. I swore to never again allow myself to be vulnerable like that. To be so stupid and naive.

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