After 2.5 long-term relationships totalling almost a decade before the age of 20, and the many false starts afterwards (some of which felt more real, even), my heart feels bankrupt for awhile. A happy broke hippie.

It felt a bit weird trying to get it to work again (why did I try so hard?), but now I love how I simply don’t want to. How many times have I said I loved being single and actually meant it over the past six months? How long did it take for me to finally mean it?

I was learning, you see.
Sorry to those whom I wasted along the way.