Alone on Valentine’s day

As every year I find myself alone on Valentine’s day, and sometimes I truly wish I can do something about it.

I do, I envy those who have their own special ones on that day. Not that it means anything. It’s not like these kind of holidays matter, or should be counted for anything. It’s just, this day is a reminder that unlike so many people around me, I am alone.

the-tunnel-of-indecent-intentions
© mimokhairphotography.com

 

I’m still young. I am. But I always feel that there’s a part of me missing. Probably because I know I want to be happy, and I know I want to be with a special someone, and feel truly loved.

I know I have my friends, and my family too. But I do feel the need to be with someone to love, to be with that special person that I will find to complete me, not that I am incomplete, but to feel part of someone’s life, part of someone’s love.

Perhaps I’m not a social person and that’s why I don’t get the chance to meet these kind of special people to be with. But I’ve met collections of men/guys/boys. I fell in love more than twice in the past 5 years, it all led to nothing. Absolutely nothing. I am not picky, I am a bit hard to please, and I will never give up on passion.

I’m not sure if being alone is by choice or by luck (either I have an awful luck or I have a horrid personality that drives people away.) All I know that Shakespeare wrote the beginning of my story but could never finish it (and I’m talking about the comedies not the tragedies).

It leaves me with my plans for tomorrow: study and work.

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