The Love I'm Waiting For

Maybe I'm asking for too much. Maybe.

But after everything, I've decided that if I'm going to dream about my future love, I'm going to dream properly.

No half measures.  No “let's see where this goes.”

No emotional gambling. I've already played that game.

The house won. I lost enough. 😂

So this time, I want a different kind of love.  

I want the one who stays. Not just when everything is beautiful and easy. 

I want the one who shows up when life gets ugly.

When I'm tired. When I'm difficult. When he's difficult. When we're both annoyed and neither of us is particularly charming.

I want someone who doesn't disappear when things get uncomfortable. 

Someone who doesn't use silence as punishment.

No silent treatment. No mind games. 

No making me guess what he's thinking.

No disappearing for days and then coming back like nothing happened.

Please. I'm too old for emotional hide-and-seek. 😂

I want someone who talks. Actually talks. 

If something is wrong, tell me. If you're angry, tell me.

If you're hurt, tell me. If you're scared, tell me.

If you need space, tell me. And then come back.

Because I don't want a relationship where conflict means abandonment.

I want a relationship where even when we're angry, we still know: We're on the same team.

Maybe that's what I mean when I say I want someone who stays.

Not someone who never gets angry. 

Not someone who never disappoints me.

Not someone who is magically perfect. 

I don't believe in perfect anymore.

I believe in people who care enough to repair what they break.

That's different.

I want him to adore me. Badly. Embarrassingly. Ridiculously.

The kind of adoration that makes his friends roll their eyes because apparently he can't stop talking about me. 😂

I want to be spoiled rotten. Not necessarily with expensive things.

Although… I'm not going to complain. 😂

Spoil me with attention. With affection. 

With time. With little surprises.

With remembering the things I casually mentioned three months ago.

With showing up. With asking if I've eaten.

With sending me something stupid because it reminded him of me.

With holding my hand in public. 

With pulling me closer just because he can. I want to feel cherished.

Not because I'm perfect.  But because I'm his person.

I want loyalty. Real loyalty. 

Not the kind that only exists when nobody is watching.

The kind where I don't have to wonder.

The kind where trust isn't something I have to constantly monitor.

I want to feel safe enough to put my heart down and leave it there.

I want him to treat me like I'm precious. Not fragile.

There's a difference. 

I don't want someone who thinks I need rescuing.

I want someone who respects my strength and still wants to take care of me sometimes.

Someone who looks at me and thinks: I've got you. 

And actually means it. 

Maybe I want something a little royal too.

Not because I need to be treated like a queen every second. But because I want to feel valued.

I want a man who knows that loving someone is an honor, not a burden.

Someone who doesn't make me feel like I'm asking for too much when I ask for the bare minimum.

Communication.  Affection. Presence. Consistency. Loyalty.

These shouldn't be luxury items. 

And maybe I'm a little stubborn about this now.

Because I don't want to gamble anymore. I don't want to fall in love with someone's potential. 

I don't want to spend years trying to convince someone to love me the way I need to be loved. I don't want to disappear inside another relationship. I've done enough disappearing.

This time, I want to remain fully myself. And I want someone who loves that woman.

The loud one. The emotional one. The stubborn one. 

The ridiculous one. 

The woman who laughs at inappropriate moments.

The woman who overthinks. The woman who talks too much.

The woman who sometimes needs reassurance. 

The woman who has scars. The woman who has dreams.

The woman who still believes in love despite everything.

I want him to know all of her. And still choose her. 

Again. And again. And again.

Maybe that's asking too much. Maybe. 

But I don't think I'm asking for perfection.

I'm asking for someone who shows up. Someone who doesn't leave me alone in the middle of an argument just because he's angry.

Someone who can say, “I'm mad right now, but I'm not going anywhere.”

God. That sentence alone could probably repair half my trust issues. 😂

I want someone who wants me around. 

Not because he's dependent on me. Because he genuinely enjoys my company.

I want to be the person he wants to tell things to.

The person he wants beside him when something good happens.

The person he wants beside him when something terrible happens.

The person he looks for in a crowded room. 

The person he comes home to. And I want to do the same for him.

Because love isn't supposed to be one person chasing while the other decides whether to stay. I don't want that anymore.

I want mutual. I want ridiculous. I want soft. I want passionate.

I want playful. I want deep conversations at 2 a.m.

I want stupid arguments about what to eat. 

I want laughing in the kitchen. I want road trips.

I want ordinary Tuesdays that somehow feel special because we're together. I want a love that feels like home. 

Not a home I have to constantly prove I deserve.

A home where I know I'm welcome. Where I know I'm wanted.

Where I can finally exhale. And maybe, someday, there will be more than just the two of us.

Maybe there will be little footsteps. A mini me running around.

A mini him causing completely different kinds of chaos. 😂

Maybe our house will be loud. Messy. Full of toys. Full of laughter.

Full of arguments about bedtime. Full of love.

Maybe I'll look across the room one day and see him holding our little ones and think: So this is what I was waiting for.

Maybe that's my future.

Me. My soulmate. Our mini me. Our mini him.. 

Our ridiculous little family. A life that isn't perfect. But real.

Safe. Full. Loved. Maybe it's too much to ask. Maybe it's unrealistic.

Maybe someone will read this and say I'm dreaming.

Good. I've spent enough time dreaming about things that made me miserable.

I might as well dream about something beautiful now.

Because I don't want to gamble with love anymore. 

I've already paid the price. This time, I want to choose carefully.

I want to be chosen carefully.  

And when I finally give my heart again, I want to give it to someone who knows what it is worth.

Someone who won't make me regret giving it. Someone who stays.

Someone who shows up. 

Someone who loves me loudly, consistently, stupidly, completely.

And maybe that's the future I've been waiting for.

Not a perfect man. Not a perfect marriage.

Just a man who looks at me and says: “I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” And then proves it.

Over. And over. And over again.

That's the future worth waiting for. 

And if that makes me unrealistic? Fine.

I've survived worse things than being called a hopeless romantic.

Beside I've already survived the heartbreak.

I think I've earned the right to dream about the happily-ever-after.