No one right for me. Yet.

The man I think I loved left almost 2 years ago. The worst part? Since he left, I don’t feel like I’ve made it any further in life. In fact, I think I’m regressing.

While my body moves forward and wants to move on, my mind is with that guy from 2 years ago. I constantly think about what the hell happened between us and fear not being able to find anything like what we had ever again. I take steps forward every day: 10,000 steps on my Pacer, a step towards that book layout, a little jump towards the Etsy shop I’ve been dreaming about, extremely long crawl to my Goodreads “70 books” challenge, a run towards my dream body. But when it comes to discovering what makes a woman seem more happy, more whole, I suck.

I resent the idea of only wanting a man because I believe that this is as happy as I can get on my own. I am at that stage where I know that I don’t need a man. But the “single girl” tradition of pizza and re-runs in bed with my best friend makes me judge myself a bit too much: pathetic, fat, undeserving. A man cannot fix my attitude towards myself.

I’ve been on some horrible dates. Good ones, too. I’ve been kissed and pursued. There’s no shortage of men who want me. Often, they make me smile. Sometimes I flirt with them and have a good time.

There’s just one problem, though: They’re all wrong for me.

I can feel it in my bones. For the past 2 years, the idea of being with someone else,anyone else has bothered me. My body shuts down at the mere thought of being with anyone other than him ever again, and wasting my time on some sort of sexy fling that will never last seems completely bogus.

Every time I try to branch out from him, I wonder if he could be the one because no one else compares. But the perfect stays, right? That’s what they teach us anyway.

I recently met someone who I could theoretically see myself with. Even though he’s not really my type, he’s pretty much the best man I’ve ever met. I can totally see myself completely happy with him, but I don’t think he’s ready for a relationship yet.

Falling into a whirlwind romance with him would be so easy, even if it goes against everything I believe in. I thought I wanted to enter into a serious relationship with someone serious who seriously likes me.

And yet, I’m scared.

Although I portray myself as this confident, kick-ass girl, I’m very scared.

I’m scared that all men care about one thing and one thing only. I fear that they’re only after the shell of me: my body, my blue eyes, my not-so-perfect-curves. I’m scared that the next time I meet a guy I really like, he’ll only care about that shell But that’s only a miniscule part of me. I worry that nobody would ever love all of me or care about what makes me tick:

The last time I felt this scared was right before my love left me. I was afraid then, but I feel just as afraid now.

Since he left, I’ve struggled to love myself and accept all the pieces of me, but I try to move a little bit towards self-love every day. Even when I get lost in the woods of depression and self-hatred, I always fight to find my way back. I know that eventually, I will move on and fight my way through the thorns of my insecurities.

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This is one of my favorite couple photos online ever.

There’s playfulness, there’s love, there’s winter and there’s snow.

God knows I love snow more than anything.

I love how cute they are together and how it makes me feel. I’d like to feel that with someone. Soon.

This article, mostly just thoughts put together I wrote a while ago and I’d like to think I’ve moved on from that. Not entirely. But I think I know what I want, or at least I know what I don’t want.

Someone who left me to come back.

Actually I like lying to myself a lot. I wish I didn’t want him to come back. But I do. I wait for it even. I wish I wasn’t. But there’s something there that is still alive and I just can’t possibly let it go.