How does one who admittedly doesn’t fit the mold, or even try to, have a happily ever after?

They know that since they don’t fit the mold, they don’t fit the typical moldy happily ever after…and they never settle.

I don’t even like the sound of “settle down”.

I certainly don’t like the sound of “someone to settle down with”.

It sounds like a fancy way of saying someone to trap me.

And settle?!?

That word should never be used when speaking of your happily ever after.

No thank you, I will not settle and down is not where I’m headed.

I refuse to sink.

I find the idea of swimming free in the sea of life invigorating.

Someone to swim with, fight the current with, run with, up, up, up, sky’s the fucking limit with…someday, for certain.

That’s a happily ever after I could believe in.

Most of you know, the trilogy of “meth, alcohol and the married man”, left me a bit…shall me say…bitter?

Understatement considering its been ten years and this is the first time I’m sharing my thoughts on love without throwing anything at anyone.

Perhaps, motherfucking bitter and battered is more accurate.

I felt like the life had been squeezed out of my heart.

It was broken.

Like, really fucking broken.

So then I felt broken.

I felt like I’d done everything wrong, obviously.

The love of a lifetime, happily ever after shit just wasn’t for me & after the blender of hell my heart had just been through, I was more than ok with that.

I needed a break. I just needed a fucking break.

It’s been ten years and I’m still content with my break.

I’m in no hurry to relive any part of my disastrous past love life.

I am however, learning….

With learning, comes changing.

I’ve grown, learned, lived, swam on….myself.

I guess part of me had to prove to me, that it could be done, by me.

So, I did it…I’ve done it.

I’m going to keep on doing it, keep learning, growing and swimming.

For me, only me…which sounds selfish but it’s far from it. When I’m at the best me…the ones I love will feel it just as much as I do, more when worthy.

Over the years, I’ve come to realize and understand that my failed relationships are not a reflection of a failed me.

Flawed, hell yes but far from failed.

I didn’t do anything wrong.

I did what I do…I love with all my might.

A fierce love that is a force to be reckoned with.

A fierce flame that warms the one I love and burns my enemies.

When you love like that, with ferocious passion, you expect you’re being loved with the same sort of ferocious passion.

Reality is…loving with all your might is not all that common and just because you love that way, doesn’t mean someone else can or will do the same.

That is where my mistake lies.

Loving wasn’t….isn’t the problem.

Misplacing love like that is.

I’ve learned from my mistakes, slowly but surely.

It hit me at a friend’s wedding a few weeks ago…so I told her…..



Love is real. Happily ever after happens.

I will have both.

They won’t fit the mold either but it won’t matter because they’ll fit…..



3 Responses to I was wrong. I do not hate love.

  1. Happily ever after does happen….it’s just got to be YOUR version of it, not someone else’s. Once you figure out what yours looks like, then you will find it, my friend, I have no doubt of that.


  2. Not so sure about true love anymore. I, like you was with an addict. Being a single mom with no help from anyone whatsoever has made it impossible to find “true love,” much less anyone decent to date. The older you get, the more baggage everyone has, and sometimes you don’t find that out until it’s too late.

    I’ve been burned by too many f**ked-up guys, so now I write romances to ensure I’ll always have a happily ever after, because I sure as hell can’t seem to find it in real life. Lol

    • CC says:

      Write your own. I fucking love it.
      I’m still not actually trying to find love, or a date for that matter…although, recently there was a flattering in an offensive kind of way, invite into a ‘relationship’…his wife’s ok with it which I’m not sure why that matters…I’m still not ok with being a side dish, option, plan b….call it what you will, I call it shit and I’m all done with shit.
      Just knowing that true love IS out there, makes me feel oddly content. Just because we don’t have it, doesn’t mean we won’t.
      In the meantime, write one for me too, k?

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