I will always look for that green light, that green flag, or a sign that love will happen to me, no matter how many men come and go from my life; no matter how long it takes; no matter how many heartbreaks I have to go through. If there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I'm stubborn, and if I want something, I'm going to get it. But unfortunately, love isn't like going to the store, picking whatever I like from the shelf, and bringing it back home with me. I need to take time to figure out how to let another individual into my life again without feeling taken advantage of and fooled as my walls come down.

There’s this quote I’ve been living by this past year in my so-called “healing era”: "Your partner is a reflection of how much you love yourself." And boy, in my interpretation, if you keep loving someone who treats you like crap, that shows how little self-value you have. So for the past year, it seems that I have turned into him or at least see a glimpse of him in me—and when I say glimpse, I don’t mean the good sides of him, I mean the bad sides. Whatever I wanted him not to do, I am now clearly doing. And though I am doing it as a single person without lying to anyone, it still feels off. That temporary high and happiness don’t seem to make me feel anything, and if there’s anything at all, it’s definitely steering me in the direction where I'd rather keep having fun than wait for someone good for me.

That said, there’s a lot of baggage in me. I’m still grieving that one true love relationship I had despite how long it’s been. And right after that relationship, I still give myself **** for falling for a traitor and selling my soul to the devil for what I thought was “love” and the right person.

I don’t know when the right time will be. I don’t know when I will be ready. As much as I want to fall in love again and have someone by my side, I have to slowly believe the words I say: I want to love myself first. I know I do, but I think I need to give myself more grace and accept that I have made mistakes in choosing the wrong men in the past, heal, and move on.

It wasn't just one thing

It was the minutes that felt like hours idling in the driveway
not wanting to go inside

It was the solo trips to the supermarket
for some space to breathe
just a moment of relief

It was the feeling in the pit of my stomach knowing that I was running late
and it would end in a fight

It was the time you made me cry on my birthday
or any random Tuesday

It was the not knowing who I was anymore

It was never being enough
because it was never just one thing

I don’t know how to heal out loud, I’ve nearly died in silence because I tried to have a voice.