My Dearest Would Be,

I thought I was wise.

For the past year, I have looked around me and smirked secretly to myself, watching as my friends fought with the men they love about things as trivial as where to eat.

I thought to myself, if I am ever again blessed with love, I will never take it for granted. I who have spent the last two years alone, contemplating the value of walls vs. a home, would never be so foolish as to get upset over the trivial, at the expense of having someone who would care about me each and every day.

My tiny wrists were tired, they were determined to appreciate a good man who would help carry the grocery bags without complaint.

I was wrong Would Be. Turns out I am not as superior as I thought (shocking to me too.) I sat there thinking here I am, open to love, accepting the blessing I am being given, changing the course of my life.

Yet here I am today. Alone again. Because despite my good intentions I let all my silly fears get the best of me.

So Would Be, it turns out, I don’t only need you to be kind, wise, good and generally fabulous, it turns out I need you to be forgiving, and have a saintly ability to bear with me while I exorcise my inner demons, before my equally fabulous self shows through.
Yours,

CP

Ps. Here's a great blog to get us through this: I wrote this for you.