One day I’m going to fall in love again.
Real love. The kind that holds on no matter what. The kind where our hearts know they are protected. The kind where trust, honesty, and communication are honored.
The kind of love where you can say anything or nothing and be perfectly content. The kind where no body would be able to look at us and not know we’re in love. Even when we’re 90.
One day that other heart is going to love as deeply as mine does. Those other eyes are going to see their love reflected in mine.
One day I’m going to feel held, heard, and grateful to hold and hear them.
One day I am going to travel with that someone who gets excited about travel too. Someone who points out the things I miss and looks at the things I point out. Someone who surprises me and plays with me. Someone who likes to eat good food, drink good wine, and have a great time no matter what happens. Someone who also realizes that age doesn’t determine the ability to have fun.
Someone who keeps me thinking, has intelligent conversations with me. Someone who takes me dancing, sings along with me as we make dinner. Someone who lets me in, who lets me hold them when they hurt, lets me know how to help them when things go wrong.
One day I’ll find that someone that makes me feel desired above the others even though they appreciate the beauty around them. One day I’ll be able to pamper someone and make them feel desired above all others.
One day I’m going to take that risk again. Because they’re worth it. Because I know they will be taking a risk too, and I’m worth it.
My heart is whole again within my own chest. One day is on it’s way. But for now, I’m happy to report that I still love myself enough to be alone with myself and be happy.
One day I will meet someone who is happy with themselves. Loves themselves enough to love me.