For the first time this year, my heart was beaten up.
I thought I was sharing something special with someone only to realize I might have been the only one thinking that way.
Regardless of the disappointment, my heart is still filled with love knowing that I have allowed myself to feel, to love, and to share myself with someone I sincerely appreciate and respect. This time, the pain is not that much of a heartbreak. It’s a mere tiny pinch in the heart.
There is no way to find out what really transpired, except maybe someday when either of us would want to address it if it ever existed. For now, I choose to write my own story and draw my own conclusion. I need the peace that comes with closure.
The three-week love affair which existed in my head was just enough to bring me reprieve from the daily grind of being an adult. Looking back, it was a sweet gentle feeling of fondness — of genuine love, care, and affection. It was all pink, fuzzy, and lovely.
Alright, let me pause for a bit.
I have used the word “love” so many times.
Whatever kind of love that was, it was a warm gentle feeling. It wasn’t overwhelming. It wasn’t burning hot. It was a gentle warmth enveloping me in sweet kindness and safety. It was a warm cup of coffee on a stormy day; a warm blanket on a cold rainy night.
It was a reprieve.
It was safe.
It was sweet.
It was something I will forever cherish. I may have misinterpreted some things, misread some signs, and misunderstood some actions; nevertheless, it was a story which existed in my mind and crept into my heart. It was a story I’ve lived.
Today, I close the story with a smile. I am free. I am free to love, to smile, to care, to share, and to keep my light shining. Someday, a new love will find me. Maybe then, it will stay — not as a make believe story, but as reality.