A million love letters and I’m still on my own.

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So… I sat down. Writing it over and over on a piece of paper and using capital letters in hopes that it sinks in and actually make sense.

“A MILLION LOVE LETTERS AND I’M STILL ON MY OWN!” were my exact words.

Coming to think of it. It’s an emptied bold statement that sums up my love life in simple text. A very ironic situation if you ask me and I’ve found a way to live with it.

Sometimes I even doubt that love exists. I mean even great men who’ve written about it have failed to explain what it is.
Even I who counts herself amongst the great has failed to understand it and my definitions keep contradicting themselves.

So I chose to ignore. Exclude myself from the culture of falling in love and wanting to be part of those who feel the need to belong.
…and don’t get me wrong y’all.

This isn’t because I chose to but because I have to. I mean even if love was to smack me right in between my eyes I could never notice it because for years love has knocked and I’ve failed to answer.

Some say it’s fear, some say it’s preference and I always say that it’s time and the universe working against each other and causing unpleasant frequencies encouraging me to shy away from what’s known to be “good enough” for me.

So all those love letters a.k.a proposals have been flooding in and I’m still on my own because I’ve decided to turn a blind eye and ignore.

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