Sweetheart weekend
In any case, this wasn't supposed to be a negative thing! As "Tshirt" by Destiny's Child is currently humming in my background, I reminisce that as a forever single gal (y'all on them black singles chats er nah?), I've always loved Valentine's Day. I think it's the simple fact that other's happiness or perceived rather, doesn't bother me. Seriously, for as long as I can remember I've just always thought my company was the best company. Not that I don't love that of others, but nobody gets me like I get me, you feel me! Haaa, it's a weird mentality from the outside looking in, but it really makes a lot of sense. It's comforting. Self-love really is the best love, I believe. However, these past few months I've really come to terms that it's okay to love others with the same amount of passion you love yourself. It's scary, it feels really risky or something. As if you're about to give up this thing you've held near and dear for so long. Synonymous to a childhood bear or whatever may have you. But at the same time it's liberating? It's okay to receive that love shit as well? Life is as confusing as crack yet crystal meth clear at the same damn time. Like imagine, someone can actually add to the love you have for yourself, the appreciation you've got, even (...wait for it...) supersede it. Solange, aka my muva aka half my spirit animal, says it's the icing on top of the cake. Y'all ever experience this faraway land? I can't wait to wake up to such craziness. In a way I feel like I've been preserving myself for it...
xxoo missusmonroe
Forever21 top, thrifted pants, forever21 loafers |
0 comments:
Post a Comment