I want to look at my man and feel ridiculously lucky. I want to admire him, trust him, respect him, feel safe in his arms, and know he feels just as lucky to have me. That's the love I'm waiting for.
I would say happy birthday, America, but unfortunately I love abortions and immigrants and public education and universal healthcare and Black people and the environment and not bombing children with my tax dollars.
repeat after me:
dear universe, i'm not asking for small favors this time. i am asking for the unthinkable to finally line up. may this month rearrange what i thought was impossible, turn endings into new beginnings, and remind me that miracles exist for people like me.
Unfortunately, I do want a provider. I do want a protector. I do want a leader. I do want a dominant man. I do want emotional maturity and effective communication. I do want mental stability. I do want to be spoiled. I do want self awareness. I do want clingy, obsessed and safe. I do want someone who chooses me every time. And nobody is going to make me feel bad for wanting those things in a partner.
I was born for romantic love, Sunday family barbecues, quality time, lying on the chest of the person I love, spending time with my love ones,little gestures, feeling deeply, all of it.