I Fell In Love With my Solitude

I do not know what sparked and fueled this raging feeling, maybe it was a long-time process, or maybe it happened so quickly I did not know when it started. But it did. I fell in love with my solitude. Hard. But for once, the fall did not hurt. This time I did not have to pick up broken pieces of myself. It did not break me the way the previous falls did. I did feel an ache, deep inside of me. But it was the good kind. A redemption, even. It was liberating. It felt like it was always meant to happen. And finally, it did. Boy, did it made me feel complete.

I felt found. Have I been searching what was inside of me all this time? Feels like it. But I did not resent myself for taking this long. ‘Cause maybe it won’t feel as magical as this had I found it sooner. Had I not been bruised and crushed in my first three falls, I may not be able to see that this fall is the one that counts. This fall is the one that makes me want to keep falling in that abyss that did not feel suffocating for a change. Maybe this is my kind of romance. Maybe this is my fairytale love story. And I have no complaints. I fell in love in my solitude.

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