This Time, It’s Different (2013)

The Liar
The Cheater
The Manipulator
The Narcissist
The Inconsiderate Prick
The Abusive Misogynist
I’ve had them all.

Each left me wanton, craving something genuine or at least reciprocal.  With each heartbreak, that special someone became more a mystical being found only in dreams.  (It’s no wonder I’ve spent so much time asleep.)  I set up camp in the ethereal recesses of my mind, wishing and hoping for a dream to manifest and damn itself into reality.  I learned what it means to be lonely, what it means to be independent, what it means to be free.  I’m well versed in the use of substance as a cure-all, and I’m acutely aware that no substance will quell the empty ache associated with the want for love, the desire to give yourself over to another as an act of trust and respect.  

I waited.  I dreamed.  I hoped.  I persevered.

Eventually, I would find a love beyond my wildest dreams.

Now, my nervousness is merely a knee-jerk reaction brought on by a sordid past, and each day, it’s a habit I find a little easier to break.  I don’t second-guess his intentions or my own.  I don’t have to compete with a myriad of outer distractions for the affection I’ve craved for so long, and I am not chastised for displaying and returning the same affection in the manners that I choose to.  Giddy school-girl excitement replaces the loathing and frustration I felt in my existence.  I’m no longer hollow, not teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown.  It’s an understanding that could remain unspoken as it’s written in our eyes and as simple as a finger tracing over a palm.  It’s soft kisses on my shoulder, a laugh shared by sunrise, dreams big enough to challenge and change fate.  It’s love made in ways I never thought possible, butterflies I can finally force into formation, time to miss each other, and the knowledge that we have so very much to live together.

This time, it’s love as it was meant to be.


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