I adore a cheesy love story. In my sarcasm I pretend to be better than the romance, but a look through my dvd collection and bookshelf would prove otherwise. I had always said I was happy to be single. But more importantly, in the last few months I have come to understand that my happiness is based on liking myself, regardless of my status on Facebook.
Through a messy breakup, a loss of job, friends betraying confidence… this is what should have broken me, made me hate my life, myself, and just wish for the easier road. But weirdly it didn’t do that… it has only made me stronger, a desire to love myself more, and I feel even more free, even more open.
I used to have so many boundaries in life – rejecting good and bad before I was the one being rejected. It made me feel like I was in control.
I met this guy in the supermarket. Your typical “meet cute”. I dropped a carton of strawberries all over the floor. He came to help pick them, meanwhile making fun of me. We finished the task, and I chose a different carton. He looked at me shocked, “you mean you’re not going to take that carton?”
And I replied, “No! Those have been all over the floor!”
A few months later yet another supermarket, and then a handed out phone number.
I love being in the place where sometimes it doesn’t matter if he calls, it was just good to flirt and to be open to possibilities.
And so, no matter what happens. I am happy to be me.
I read this from the beautifully written Bel Canto, and my heart knows it to be true.
“He kissed her. There was such an incredible logic to kissing, such a metal to magnet pull between two people that it was a sooner that they found the strength to prevent themselves from succumbing every second. Rightfully, the world should be a whirlpool of kissing in which we sank and never found the strength to rise up again. ” Bel Canto by Ann Patchett
So there it is. I can be happy and single. And confident. And kiss. Clearly, I need to kiss. And in my world, none of those are exclusive.