"I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love."
I can pretend all day that I'm fine, life is good (and it really is) and that I'm strong and don't need anyone. Only part of that is true. I'm very thankful for the family and friends in my life and I am strong. But I'm not fine, I'm lonely, and I want to think I'm going to find love again someday. But I don't feel hopeful about that.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. Growing up, I believed in fairy tales. I desperately want to think my prince charming is out there lurking, just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Okay, maybe lurking is the wrong word given a few recent, creepy events.
I am told all the time that I'm fine. That it must be nice to have nobody. But nobody realizes how lonely I really am. Especially when Barbie, Jr. is gone. Sure, sometimes the peace is nice, but most times, the silence is deafening.