This Is For The Next Man Who Will Fall In Love With Me

I have been through a lot of heartbreaks. I am a hopeless romantic at heart, probably the dumbest too. I wear my heart on my sleeve and have always hated the idea of playing games. I have been warned, both by friends and family, to always keep watch of myself and not carelessly give my heart away. I should never be the first one to admit feelings or it will be a lost cause. Sadly though, I am a go-getter (Sorry mom!).

I have heard thousands and thousands of beautiful words, given countless promises, offered everything a girl could ever dream of and ask for, only to see them get ripped apart right in front of my face.

I told you so”. That remark never misses to echo in my ear. I know, they warned me before but I am too stubborn to listen. So what happens next is this:

I get hurt.

I cry myself to sleep.

I scream inside.

I breakdown.

I detach.

I lose myself.

I think.

I feel.

I pick myself up.

I live life (again).

That practically sums up how I cycle through my failed relationships. I learn, I think, and I feel much more than an average person. I trust and accept everything at face value, no doubt, no second thoughts. And I do not need you to tell me because I know quite well, it is damn stupid.

BUT THIS IS ME.

Yes. I have been hurt. I hated myself for believing and falling for the things they say. But at the same time, I learned to appreciate and love me for it. I know what I want. I know what I will settle for. I know when to get out and call it quits. I know if it is worth it. And when I do, I make sure to give my best and do all it takes to work things out.

Maybe they left because I am not good enough for them, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not skinny enough, or they simply got bored of me.

Maybe.

And I do not give a shit about it. The last thing I would ever want to happen is see myself change to fit in some other people’s standard. I am proud of myself. I love myself. I respect myself enough to not put up with all the crap people throw at me. I prefer reality over wishful thinking; hard truth over false pretenses. I would rather be real than pretend to be someone I am not. Perhaps this makes me appear vulnerable, reckless, or even stupid. I could not care less.

I do not want your well crafted promises. I do not need your sugarcoated words. I only want your honest, conscious decision to commit and act upon it.

I want no prince charming; I want a partner. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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