I’ve been thinking a lot about the delicate balance of being true to myself while navigating the maze of love and connection. Upholding my standards and boundaries has never been effortless, but it’s something I owe to myself.

I’ve been here before: the moment when the act of staying true to my own light leaves me standing alone, wondering if I’m asking for too much. I know I’m not. I yearn for a love that feels like inescapable fate, the kind where my lovers heart quickens at the sound of my voice, and my devotion becomes their sanctuary. I want someone who believes in soulmates, who welcomes the depth of my surrender and becomes the steady axis around which my world turns. What is the point of lukewarm love? If I am not drowning in it, I have no desire for it.

I may seem weak because I let the disappointments get to me. But I am sensitive, sentimental and an empath, and my skin is not thick... It is porous, so I feel the changes in the breeze. I'm moved quickly and deeply, and I know this may be abnormal. I don’t expect everyone to understand this. But I know some of you do. I’m not scared to feel things so vulnerable and hopeful, I was not made to be half loved.

To those who see themselves in these words, thank you for existing. You remind me that I’m not alone in this journey, even when the world may make me feel like I am.