If you’ve been keeping up with my temperamental, erratic twenty something life, you’ll know im now single and working toward moving out of my parents house.
There’s been one thing on my mind recently, it’s not necessarily a bad thing, i think its affecting me like this because its so alien to me.
I started thinking about the nights when i would lay in my bed, wath moulin rouge, cry into my ice cream spoon and long to have someone in my life who loves me that much, id mainly be crying over how beautiful it was, the music swelling up just as you realise you’re in love, a passionate embrace leading to somewhere meaningful and beautiful.
I always thought i was Mrs Hopeless Romantic, but it’s been years since i felt like that.
Maybe, after being unhappy for a while, i’m too used to getting all my love from myself i’ve lost a bit of faith over the last few years.
Maybe im too down to earth to feel anything.