So, I have a confession…

I’ve been single for almost two years now. I went through a pretty turbulent and traumatic relationship—and no, I’m not talking about being cheated on. (Although, been there, done that, and yeah… that sucks too.) I’m talking about something deeper. More damaging. The kind of trauma that leaves you with a clinically diagnosed case of PTSD.

I can laugh about it now. Or maybe I have to laugh about it now—because otherwise I’d just spend my days crying about it. And really, where’s the fun in that?

Anyway, I’ve dipped in and out of the dating scene since the breakup, and let me just say: I hate it. Sure, it’s fun for the plot. Fun for the memories. Something to add to the storyline—blah blah blah. But the truth is, I crave something deeper. Someone who gets it. Someone who checks all the boxes. Someone who knows me better than I know myself.

That might be asking too much. That might be completely unrealistic. But honestly? I don’t care. I’ve been through hell and back, and the least I deserve is something real. For taking the high road. For not “crashing out.” For keeping it all behind closed doors and handling everything with grace—just like women are expected to do. (Ugh.)

I’ve been on countless dates, met so many people, and not once have I felt the “spark.” Not once have I had a connection that felt like more than friendship.
Until recently.

I have a crush. And it’s bad. The kind that caught me off guard. From the moment we met, the chemistry was just there—undeniable, almost electric. We bicker like an old married couple. We understand each other in a way I haven’t even experienced with some of my closest friends. It’s different. Really different.

There’s just one problem: it won’t work out. I won’t get into the details, but… yeah. It’s not meant to be. Still, it’s made me re-evaluate everything I thought I was looking for. This man is not my type—at all—but personality-wise? He might be my perfect match. Twin flame energy, for sure.

Here’s the thing: for so long after the breakup, I was floating on autopilot. I wasn’t trying too hard. I wasn’t too bothered when things didn’t work out. I was scared to open up. Scared to be vulnerable again. And honestly? Sometimes I feel like a broken record—repeating the same lessons to myself over and over. But this is the hardest part. The part where I have to work through the triggers. Where I have to remind myself that not every man is the same.

This crush gave me something I didn’t realize I needed: hope. Hope for a new beginning. Hope that what I’m looking for is out there. A reminder not to let delusion get the best of me. A reality check that not every tarot reading is going to resonate, no matter how badly I want it to.

They say it happens when you least expect it. And I believe that.
What’s meant for me will find me.

Maybe this crush isn’t meant for me—right now. But I have a renewed sense of hope. My time is coming. In love, in life, in everything.
Good things are on the way.

And if you’re in your own romantic drought, please don’t give up. I know it feels like you’re shouting into the void, wondering if love will ever come back around. But droughts don’t mean the land is dead—just that it’s resting. Rebuilding. Getting ready for the rain. Keep your heart open, even when it feels safer to shut it down. The love you deserve is still out there, and it’s not late—it’s just taking the scenic route.