Paciencia.

I’ve heard my whole life “we write our own story”

But that’s not true. If it was true, my life would look a very different way.

Instead, my story feels like I’m constantly chasing paper to write on and it’s never available. And when I finally find a piece of paper, I seem to run out of ink mid-sentence.

So I never get to write the story I meant to tell. Instead, I’m stuck with whatever I managed to get with the resources I had.

I’m getting tired of begging for ink and paper.

If you felt more alone than usual, know that it’s ok to feel that way. It’s ok if today you felt sad, bitter, a bit envious, and hopeless. I wish for you a small moment of hope and content that pushes you forward, one step closer to happiness.

If you felt full and loved today, I hope you cherished it and valued it like the little miracle it is. I hope you never take it for granted, and that you keep nourishing that spark and safe space every day; not just today.

Today I am extremely thankful for my little miracle. But I don’t forget how I felt years before. My heart is with those that are still in that space of pain and uncertainty about what to do with their hearts. I remember those feelings vividly, and I wish to never fully forget, because I believe is what allows me to appreciate what I have now so deeply.

I got swept up when I least expected it.

I was completely unprepared, unsuspecting.

Suddenly I felt chased after, cared for, chosen.

I feel safe, seen, heard, and taken care of… I feel beautiful and appreciated, I’m met with compassion and understanding when I need it.

But also something strange started happening to me… my demons came hunting for me at full force. I’m faced with deep, dark ghosts of my past that I have been escaping from for too long. They’ve caught up with me now, and they’re testing me at every chance they get.

Threatening to strip me from what I’ve always been waiting for. Pushing me to the edge, pushing me to push you away.

I cried more the past four months than I have in years, and I honestly can’t believe you’ve seen me cry more than my closest friends. And you’ve held me every time and told me everything is going to be fine.

And that is how I know you’re the one… I finally feel safe.

I finally feel like I can breathe again after what felt like an eternity of holding everything in. All I can hope for is that you’ll stay. Stay through the war in my head until you see the healed me, the old me. The me that I love.

She looked at me the way I’ve been waiting for men to look at me. I could see her looking at me from the corner of my eye while I sang my heart out and I felt seen.

Maybe I was just starstruck. I had just seen her on stage, mesmerized by her hair, thinking I’d add her to my playlist. Then next thing I know, I’m looking at her tooth-gemmed smile up close, head-bobbing to Slow Dance together.

I discovered something fluid in me that night. But also unlocked a new fear. Will I ever find a man that looks at me that way? Am I being foolish waiting for a man to make me feel that way? Should I just embrace how I felt that night with her?