This is not a poem
Iāve fallen in love, once. No, Twice. It happened so fast, so subtly, that it all feels like it happened all at once.
It started when I met a girl. I donāt know why, but she got me. I had never liked girls before, Never had I noticed any romantic feelings for them. When she and I spoke about love, I felt like I was faking it. I was faking it until I wasnāt. I fell in love with her beauty, her smile, the way she would purr my name and stretch like a kitten. I loved her, and she was my best friend during that very short time. Then, my world came tumbling down when she didnāt feel the same. Words were spoken, but I just hadnāt understood why it ended. Absence made the heart grow fonder. After that, all I remember is pain. Pain with the brief and infrequent pauses of affection from the girl I was in love with. My misery drove me to my friends. One, in particular, seemed to have a personality that mirrored my own. Complimented it. In that safe space, my love grew back, stronger than ever before. Only not to be returned once again.
Those two loves are still with me to this day. Though they feel more like dreams than realities. I yearn for my passion to be returned to me. I wish to long for someone and to be longed for in return.
Love cannot be rushed and will appear when you least expect it. When you arenāt looking for it.
But what happens if your longing makes it impossible not to look?
What if it makes it impossible not to wait?
To put your life on pause, waiting for your soulmate to come find you.
Love stories happen unexpectedly. When one is living.
Life must go on for it to thrive, and it will perish if not given the chance it needs.
I fell in love once. Iād like to fall in love again.
G Dign 2019















