Everyone has this fantasy of love in their heads, maybe it started with fairy tales from childhood or maybe it’s been formed by #RelationshipGoals. Either way, it’s almost like everyone is looking for someone to call theirs, someone who feels like home, someone who stays when everyone else leaves.
It sounds wonderful. But I don’t want it.
Not now or anytime soon, anyway.
I sometimes wish I was the girl who wanted someone to stay. I sometimes wish I opened my heart and really wanted love. I sometimes wish I wasn’t constantly waking up alone because I know two is better than one, I know life isn’t meant to be lived solo, but right now I can’t find room in my heart to love another person.
I wish I wanted someone to offer to carry in the groceries and love all the unflattering parts of me that I’m still learning to like. I wish I wanted someone to make me feel like I’m the best thing to happen in their life, but for some reason I don’t. Maybe it’s because I’d have a hard time believing them.
I wish I wanted someone to share my dreams with me and motivate me like hell when I’m in a slump and don’t want to do anything, but in that moment I want to figure it out for myself and be my own form of motivation.
I wish I wanted someone to want me in the morning when I’m just waking up and be fine kissing them with a dirty mouth. I wish I wanted someone who would tell me I looked beautiful without makeup. I wish I wanted someone who told me I looked beautiful standing naked and had nothing to worry about. I wish I wanted all of it, but for some reason I don’t.
I think that scariest thing about this all is that I’ve become so used to being on my own. I’ve become so used to figuring things out for myself, pushing myself because I know no one else will do it, fighting for what I want because no one else is concerned about my wants and needs.
No one is there to text me on my lunch break and ask me how my day is going. No one is there for me to vent to when I’ve had a bad day. No one is there to hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.
I’m so used to being on my own that I don’t think I could handle someone being there. It would completely flip my world.
I don’t think I could find it in myself to believe someone who told me I looked beautiful naked when I have a hard time believing it myself. I don’t think I could find it in me to believe someone who tells me they love all the pieces of me that I don’t love about myself.
I’ve grown accustomed to being alone, to learning to try to love myself, to making decisions that best suit me, to doing what I want, when I want. I’ve grown accustomed to making myself happy and putting that first. I’ve put time and money and energy into becoming the person I want to be and I can’t help but think that’s all going to disappear if someone came into my life.
I know one day I will meet someone (hopefully) who will make me wonder how I ever lived without them, but until that day comes where I’m ready to let someone in to try to take down the walls I’ve built, I’m going to keep living for me. I’m going to keep doing the things that make me happy and work on improving myself.
I want someone who wants to stay, but just not yet. I’m not ready for someone who wants to stay when I’m still busy pushing people away and working on me.