I’m not that kind of girl who stays in one place for too long. Wanderlust flows in my blood. I have no qualms about packing up and leaving people behind. I’m someone who still hasn’t found home – commonly described as a person or a place you always come back to. There are random moments that I miss the people in my life and wish they were there wherever I was to share a particular moment with me, but they aren’t too frequent and the thoughts often disappear as quickly as they come. Someone would say that’s selfish of me, however I’d like to just think that I’ve met a lot of people but never that one person who — to quote “understands the dustiest parts of my soul”.
I’m not that kind of girl who lets people in easily. I take my time, I test the waters, sometimes that could go on for years. There are people scattered all around the world who I get excited over to the point of not being able to sleep, planning up elaborate day trips, menus and occasionally jumping up and down the house. It’s still not the same as opening yourself up fully to people who won’t judge you, who will reply to your messages even after days, who don’t mind your stupid shit, who understand you when you don’t even understand yourself, who are direct, open and will tell you straight to your face to just “get over yourself.”
I’m not that kind of girl who is “prim and proper”. I’m awkward around new people. I’m always in for a road trip. I hate being in photographs. I love coffee shops and cake and music I can sing along to. I say what’s on my mind, most of the time, it’s not appropriate. I could break out into dance anywhere. I don’t like being fussed about. I like my personal space. I laugh too loud, and I don’t care. I don’t follow fashion magazines, I have my own style. I fall over my shoelaces. I bump into the walls and doors when I walk. I show people how much I love them through food. I do million subtle small things. The small things in life are the most beautiful. I’m just one of them.
I’m not that kind of girl who misses people when she moves around. I pick myself up and I move forward. I never look back. I’m my own adventure. And I was going to be okay about this move, like I have been about the past 15 moves. But you are down right killing me. I’m actually having doubts. There was nothing left for me here, I wasn’t up for making new friends, but somehow you just snaked your way into my heart and soul. My head goes “yes, you too? brilliant.” I love no judgment. I love the raised eyebrows. I love how you still don’t know whether to believe what I’m saying. I love the love of food. Most of all – I love the love of laughter, dramatics, and talk of the good ‘ol days.
I’m not that kind of girl who opens up her personal space that often. I don’t do so well with getting hugs as I do with giving them out. But for yours, I’m making an exception. Please remember to virtually send one of those “hugs so tight, you can’t breathe” when I’m in need.
I tell myself I don’t care that much, But I feel like I die ’til I feel your touch.
Only love, only love can hurt like this, Must have been a deadly kiss.
~Paloma Faith, Only Love Can Hurt Like This