After last year’s heartbreak, I thought I’d be single for a good while. The maddening process of moving on made me decide that I wouldn’t put myself back out there just yet, not until I’m pretty sure that I’m done grieving for what I’ve lost. Sounds dramatic, but no kidding, 2018 fucked me up like tissue paper. My Twitter feed could attest to that.
Now if you ask me whether I do or do not believe in pre-destination — fate, as the romantics call it — my honest answer is that I do not know. But what I do know is that opposite the summer of 2018 when things started going down for me, it was this summer of 2019 when I found my heart whole and capable of loving again.
She is a woman shaped by life’s ugly playfulness, and yet is still willing to take up arms despite her scars. She gave me a new memory of sun, sand and sea. She does not come with loud thuds and flash bangs of explosive feelings. She’s the steady beat, calm and quiet but reassuring.
She gifted me two homes in one instant — first in her arms, second in her welcoming family. The latter is pretty overwhelming, but in a good way, and only because I am not used to being properly introduced as a girlfriend to my partner’s parents. But she held my hand in front of them and I thought, so this is how it feels to be loved like this.
When 2019 started, I was wondering how it would unfold. I already established a routine as I navigate through single life. While I haven’t given up on love yet, a new relationship was not at the top of my mind.
She is the plot twist I didn’t see coming.
And I’m surprised, and amazed, and happy. ^_^
P.S. Happy first monthsary, babe! <3