i am starting to wonder if i am on this endless, unrealistic hunt for happiness – this rare, knock the wind out of me, dizzy spell of absolute joy.  and for some reason the missing link is love.  i have an adoring family, the most caring, dependable friends.  i love life and everyday i have lived proud of my ambitions.  proud of my achievements.   yet it is not enough.  and i think because i yearn to share this all with somebody.   but i also know that an ‘anybody’ just won’t do either.

i have spent my young life loving the wrong person or being loved in the wrong way.  i have been careless with my feelings while selfishly hurting others.  i have doubted my instincts, have had meaningless lovers but i have also adored a few that were good men but not right for me or me for them.

then there is the recent love that i thought was love but really was just emotional confusion.  and in all of this i am learning that love does not define happiness.  being happy with the person that you love – and who loves you equally as much – is what matters.  so i continue to be on my own loving life, learning what it is to be happy on my own until the right kind of love comes along.  after all, i don’t need a guy but i do want to love someone purely and wholly one day and to know what that feels like in return.