I can imagine myself as the woman running through the dark and snowy streets of London in zebra print underwear, desperate to make things right with the man I love. (That's Bridget Jones' Diary, btw.)
I am, hopeless in that sense. Terribly romantic. Sickly obsessive over "the little sweet" things. I don't think there are many girls who don't dwell on their daydreams, but maybe not so many do it as often, or as well, as I do.
The human mind is a strange and changing thing. The human heart, moreso. I may not have as much experience with romantic involvement as some, but I've shed my share of tears. That's why, at 9 months, I'm for once, really happy. For once, I've found something worth hanging onto. Something that's not going to twist me round and round 'till I break, and then walk away.
I'm tripping on a burst of dopomine whenever he says my name. This, is heaven.
Something I've realized though. After the 2 years of pitiful teenage "heartbreak" that I endured, it was only after I decided that those guys were stupid for hurting me and that I didn't need anyone to be happy, that I began this new journey. Those other guys were stupid. They didn't know how badly they hurt my feelings, pride, self esteem and therefore, I couldn't be angry with them any longer. I let go. And that felt good. Forgiveness does bring happiness, because for once, I was finally happy. Then came the step of accepting myself. Who I was, my thoughts, my opinions, my story. I am me and I don't need them. I don't need anyone to be content with who I am. I don't need a boy to convince me that I'm a beautiful woman, inside and out. I don't need to feel wanted. It is nice, yes. But it's not a need.
For the first time, in a long time, I would wake up and say, "I can do this on my own.". I got sight of my dreams, my hopes, my feelings. I didn't worry about who was watching or what he'd think or if I could survive without a boyfriend. It was then, that I met the man I call my own now.
Yes, it is nice to hear him tell me I'm beautiful, that I'm wanted and he loves me. But it's even nicer to know that he means it and he's not just paying lip service. I don't need him for that and he knows it.
I took on a whole new meaning to my life and I guess I had to love myself before I could ever really love and be loved by someone else. I don't mean selfish love. I mean, confidence in one's self, security.
It feels good to need someone for the right reasons.
Not just because I need to cling to someone and their image of me.
I'm finally in love.
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