Love is not meant for me
This journey made me face my love life. How I always ended up extremely unhappy.
I've already written millions of times about that guy who was my missed chance.
It honestly haunts me. How I fucked up by not making a move. Of course, it takes two to tango—he could have told me how he felt too. He should have. But so could I.
What if...
What if...
What if...
It honestly kills me.
I shouldn't torture myself over it, but missed chances are something I just can't move on from.
And then there was this other guy. Oh, what chemistry we had. A night-long walk on the bank of the Danube, going from bar to bar, laughing, talking about the big things in life. Those kisses.
But he was still in love with his ex.
It seems like all the men I could share real passion with, the ones I could talk to all night, are just too broken to hold me. They all have something broken inside them that they can't work through in order to choose me.
With everyone else, I just feel empty.
I spent a lot of time wondering what the hell was wrong with me. A lot of men would want me. Many think they could hold me, but... there are barely any who truly interest me. The ones I can have deep conversations with, who could fulfill me emotionally and intellectually, who I can have fun with, who make me feel like a woman.
But honestly, I don't want anything less than that. Nothing without fire, passion, and midnight conversations. Nothing less than a relationship where we can build and create together.
And honestly, if I hadn't decided that I won't blame or hurt myself anymore, I would still be asking: what the actual fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I be happy with what's available to me? Or maybe the better question is: why isn't what I truly desire available to me?
I think love is something that just isn't meant for me.
Better to focus on my career, my dreams, and my talents.
They'll never fail me.