I’m not exactly the kind of person whom you could easily introduce to a traditional family. I’m probably the kind of person your mother warns you about as I am filled with idiosyncrasies that no normal person could ever fathom and accept easily. (whatever your definition of a normal person is)

I am, like lovers and sad alcoholics, a poet. I adore art in every form and I am transparent. I could not pretend to like something I don’t or pretend to be someone I am not. I have battled self-demons and insecurities for a long period of time and now that I’ve finally learned to love myself, I cannot turn back. For that, I am beyond proud.

I am ironically strong and soft at the same time. Soft enough to know my mistakes and strong enough to accept my shortcomings as an individual. I will be a work in progress for always, and that’s okay. For life is about moving forward, even if you have to go through it alone. For dependency is not for everyone, especially for me. Over the years, I’ve learned that to depend on another is to accept an inevitable disappointment and one could only handle as much and so I’ve decided to just lean on myself.

Despite all this, I still crave to be touched with a certain touch that is more than just a fleeting affection. I still dream of being held by arms who’d constantly hold me through my darkest nights through beautiful sunrises. I still dream of having my picture taken in the morning as I sip iced coffee in bed; I still dream of genuine morning kisses and sleeping with a genuine smile on my face knowing that the next morning is just as lovely as the day it followed.

I am strong enough to be on my own, to live in a humble cottage surrounded by a huge garden, cats, sipping ice cold coffee in a reading nook while The Carpenters blare from an age-old record player. This is what I dream for myself; my earthly satisfaction… I could live in that space and time alone, perhaps, for the rest of my life.

Yet, of course, as a human being, I am also weak. I would also want to spend every waking moment of my life in that space and time with someone constant. I’ve played the game long enough to know the score and it no longer look pretty as it used to be. It’s exhausting, emotionally and physically draining… I often pray to be blessed with a constant to whom I could share my life with.

But till then, I’ll continue to love and be myself. I won’t chase anyone anymore. ‘Cause regardless of how many heartbreaks I’ve gone and will go through, I’ve no one to lean on but me. I’ve to be stronger. I’ve to be wiser. Most of all, more forgiving and accepting of the fact that each day is a chance to start over and make myself better.

Happy New Year, Maria. ❤

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