I am truly an eternally optimistic person. We are all our worst critics, I know, but I must say that I can be optimistic to a fault, at times.
Case in point: I have some health issues that are limbo now, and I am cautiously prayerful and optimistic that God will get me through this rough patch and all will be well, in the end. ~~~ Praise report: I have been cleared of the bad report that was pending, and I am so very thankful!!
On the flip side, I am kicking myself for being optimistic about a relationship that died long ago, due to immaturity and lack of focus on both our parts. Why? Well, that’s where the hopeless romantic in me comes into play.
You see, I am not only your run of the mill, glass half-full optimist. I am a hopelessly, hopeless romantic. Did I say hopeless? I have been blessed with this innate quality (since I was a very young girl) of loving the unlovable, missing the unworthy, and trusting the sketchy.
Now that I’m full-grown, I have been blessed with wisdom and patience, among other qualities. In hindsight, I wonder if one of the reasons why my last two relationships were unsuccessful is because of the secret that I hold deep in the pit of my heart. I have found myself telling a girlfriend that I haven’t truly experienced love, at least not in the appropriate sense of the word. I now know that, as dysfunctional as it was at the time, I have been loved and felt love for a man, only once. I have uttered those three little words to several, but I am certain that I have only felt it once. Of course, I have crushed on a few, been infatuated on occasion, and even lusted after one or two. True love, though, is few and far between.
Am I really saying this? Even though it has taken me a whole week to finalize this post, I must admit that full disclosure comes so easy when you can hide behind a computer monitor. Now, ask me if I am ready to admit this to my lover?? Not quite.
To be continued…