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I’ve always been a lover girl. I love love. Everything about it.
I met someone who I fell head over heels for. For the first time in my life; I was sure. It was him. My person. I loved him deeply. I had the most perfect love. I would’ve married him in a heartbeat.
And then it was gone. On a random Tuesday. I remember everything about that day because for me it was the end of the world. For him, it was Tuesday.
So now I don’t believe in love anymore. Because how can something so perfect turn so cold? How can someone who wanted to marry me all of a sudden decide it’s best for us to become strangers again?
I used to smile at elderly couples holding hands. I used to love rom-coms. Valentines was my favourite day of the year. I used to love love. I daydreamed about my wedding to him, our future children (who had my eyes of course), I got in deep. In my head I was his and he was mine, forever. I loved him more than I thought I ever could love anyone. He made me happy.
I used to think we would be that elderly couple holding hands. I wanted that. Oh, how I wanted that.
And I loved with my whole heart… I loved hard. And it got me nowhere.
I loved love.
Now I don’t want to see a Rom-com. I don’t want to celebrate valentines. I don’t want to smile at couples in love. I don’t want any of it.
Now I don’t even believe in it.
That’s the saddest thing of all.
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