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I have always been full of love, but I have also been full of heartache.
After being single for more than a year you build up a life full of plans and people, so when you try to merge that life with somebody else’s – especially if they too have spent time being single – you end up stretching out your time as far as it can go. And there is a case for being wily with your days in order to be the available friend and daughter and sister you were able to be when you had more time. But while falling in love made me happy, I began to miss the moments I spent alone in my mind, thinking and planning and taking the temperature of things.
It’s in those quiet moments that I find a sense of togetherness that then allows me to be happier when I am together with someone else.
Of course sometimes it’s uncomfortable – when you’re on your own you can’t avoid your problems; the solitude forces you to turn and face them.
So, because of this, I tend to fall, I tend to break, and I tend to float a while in heartbreak’s wake.
I used to drown myself in doubt, constrict myself with fear, and bind myself with misconceptions about not being enough.