I am suddenly realizing that I have expectations of people. Real friends are taking priority and I am more aware of my feelings and who makes me feel that way. The knife in my back twists as a painful reminder of the toxicity that was left behind from a previous stab. I have been there so many times before. Angry tears burning my eyes and running down my face in rivers muddled with mascara. Tears that shouldn’t be in anyone’s heart, much less pouring in torrents in public.
My heart has been broken many times before and I take the blame for some of those accounts. I trust too easily and fall too hard and fast when I tumble and stumble into the depths of romance. The toes of my shoes are scuffed from the attempts. Broken and bruised, defeated and dejected, I climb from those depths each time with new battle wounds from wandering down that relatively familiar path - even though it seems to evolve with every step. Each turn takes me somewhere darker and more unknown. The hope for a familiar feeling keeps me motivated to head into the darkness again. Sometimes I close my eyes and just run.
My heart still beats and remembers when true love had taken it over. Every breath brought butterflies. I was ready to take on the world. I was young and invincible, and knowing that he loved me the way I loved him gave me power. Every time I remember this feeling, this feeling that I can only compare to defying gravity, my heart sings again. I feel that energy. I see him when I close my eyes and I feel his breath on my neck the same way I used to when I was wrapped up in his arms. Sychronized breathing. Hearts beating in tandem. You can not write anything more perfect and simple as what we had, even though it felt so complicated at the time. I can’t think of a single adjective to describe it, because to us it was everything.
It is possible. I know that this feeling is possible. It’s happened before, and it can happen again.
I’ve been told that not everyone finds prince charming and that I should settle down and stop looking for a fairy tale. But let me let you in on a little secret.
I’ve already started my fairy tale. And I get to decide how it ends.