They’re always making comments, asking me with that pitiful voice if I found somebody yet. Feeling sorry for me for never finding someone. Truth be told, I found many people, all with the same shameful narrative.
I grew tired of the same chapters of the story. Every man I meet bringing my guard down and taking my trust like a toy. Letting me feel a certain way until they shut me down and disappear. Every one happily losing me and enjoying the new artistic picture that I don’t exist.
Eventually, I grew tired of the ache I feel every time they happily move on from knowing me. Like I was a temporary disease they were cured from. So just know this, I’m not alone because I can’t find somebody. I choose to be alone because at least I can grow to love and trust myself completely.
I’m alone because I choose peace over the heartache that comes with every man I’ve met.
Positive, Yet Cynical 