POSTCARD DIARY

Destination: Love

To love and be loved. That was the dream. I’ve tried crushing it and killing. I’ve spent years fulfilling, or at least attempting to no avail. The advice I was given: patience, love yourself. It seems kind of hard when it feels like no one else does. What am I waiting on then?

I’ve been told that shouldn’t be my focus. Get an education. Get a career. They’re necessary, I do concede that fact. However, they’re not what I want. Without love, success is nothing to me. I feel fulfilled when other people smile at me, not when they kiss my ass. The quest was for someone else to be happy with me, not impressed what who they think they see but never took the time to get to know. The advice was to love myself, right? Well, I’ve started. I am accepting that love is my mission in life. LOVE. I’m not ashamed to say that I want it. I am not ashamed to hunt it down. Even if I die chasing it, at least I’ll go out attempting to fulfill my true desire rather than everyone else’s. I will have loved myself truly, even when the bearers of wisdom around me didn’t.

Dear Love,

I’ll damn anyone who dare stands between us.