Love isn’t something you find. Love is something that finds you.
I’m a hopeless romantic.
I’ve always dreamed of knights in shining armor, princes rescuing fair maidens, and that happy-ever-after. I buried myself in fairy tales and always sighed at the ending of each story I read.
As I grew older, I plunged myself into Regency and Victorian England through the Historical Romances I read. I fell in love with each an every dashing male hero and placed myself in the shoes of each and every heroine. I sighed at the idea of true love.
I wanted that.
I wanted to experience that.
So, I flitted from one serious relationship to another. Seeking for that spark, that sudden skip of the heart, the feeling that the whole universe aligned just for the both of you, and that conviction that he is The One. I chased love. I sought it with a hunger that was insatiable.
But I failed. I got hurt. As I moved on, I began to realize that things like that doesn’t exist. There were never any knights and dashing heroes or even a Mr. Darcy. That shattering reality made me cautious, made me protective–made me a cynic.
I still continued to be in a relationship but I wasn’t in it whole heartedly. I broke it off with my last. I’ve had enough. I’m too tired of chasing what wasn’t there. I gave up on love.
It doesn’t exist anymore.
After more than a year of being single, Louie came a-knocking at my heart. I was on defense; I clutched my heart closer. With a bit of coaxing, he managed to make me believe in love again.
They say do not chase love for it will continue to elude you. Instead, let love seek you.
I had stopped chasing but love eventually found me. It found me when I gave up and believed that it did not exist. It found me at the most unlikely time possible. It found me and made me believe of fairy tale romances and happy-ever-afters.
I fell irrevocably in love.
I couldn’t be happier.
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