I looked at him quite seriously. My eyes full of pain. Devoid of hope
I said, “There’s really no use in dating me. My heart is a broken mess. And I won’t settle for mediocre. I want passionate, extraordinary love and I’m not willing to waste my time or energy for anything less. I’ve been broken too many times. Burned until I am nothing more than ashes. And now for the first time in my entire life, I’m content being alone. I want poems and someone to scream my name into the stars. I’m tired of being the only passionate one in a relationship. So I am done. If someone wants me, they can prove it.”
Then I took a sip of my Pinot Noir. He continued to stare at me, as if digesting my words. I thought to myself, “I surely scared him away. But you know, I don’t care. I am being honest here. Let’s not waste anyone’s time.”
Days later; he wrote me poetry. Poetry.