I know people make promises all the time

Then they turn right around and break them

When someone cuts your heart open with a knife, while you beating

But I could be that guy to heal it over time

And I wont stop until you believe it

Cause baby youre worth it

So don’t act like its a bad thing to fall in love with me

Cause you might f*ck around and find your dreams come true, with me

Spend all that time and money just find out my love was free

So don’t act like its a bad thing to fall in love with me, me

Its not a bad thing to fall in love with me, me


So I’m sitting in my car, driving along when the fuckshit from above assaults my ears. Okay, perhaps that’s too harsh of an assessment, but damnit it’s my honest feelings. ┬áThe more Justin crooned, the angrier I got. Mainly because it reminded me of someone I’d rather forget. This guy…listen…he says “What’s so bad about falling in love with me?” Welp, that’s just as dicey as playing a game of “Just the Tip”. ESPECIALLY if said person who eventually convinces you to fall isn’t so sure of their feelings and end up playing with yours.

I was gunshy. Having come off a “relationship” that fizzled out of nowhere, I wasn’t looking for love. I wasn’t even looking for like or lust. This guy appeared, literally, out of nowhere. Things went…badly it putting it lightly. Ever since that debacle I’ve been a bit…hesitant about actually dating. Lately though, I’ve been feeling the overwhelming urge to get back out there. As I told some friends on a recent trip, “My pocketbook is DYING to date.”

I’m so scared though. I don’t know that I’m built to take the risk again. I’ve played russian roulette with my heart one too many times only to have it crash and burn. As much as I’d like to…*ahem* spend money again, not quite sure I’m ready for all of the emotional baggage that come along with it. A few people that I’m close to have been talking to me about their relationship woes and each time we speak I sigh in relief that I don’t have to go through the drama. But a bigger part of me is wistful and longing. Because despite all of the bullcrap they have to deal with from their significant others, they still have someone who has their back when they have to deal with all of the bullcrap of the world.

I miss that feeling. I miss the embrace of strong arms. I miss playfully calling him by his full name when he exasperates me. I miss the butterflies when everything is all fresh and fun and exciting and new. I miss the annoyance when he refuses to acquiesce, despite knowing I’m right. I miss long phone calls and even longer kisses. I miss referring to my man in a disgustingly adorable way whenever someone asks me what I’ve got planned for the weekend. I miss the being in a relationship.

But I just don’t quite know if I’m ready to overcome the fear to get back some of what I’m missing…