I ripped my heart into shreds and swore I’d never love again.

Only I’d made confetti and streamers for future celebrations. The pieces are smaller but they’re are infinitely more shareable.

I don’t love just one man. I love many. On an average day I might talk to three past romantic interests. They’re still in my life. Maybe they live on the opposite side of the world (like Tblisi) or they’re hanging out in bed next to me right now while we chill to Natalia Lafourcade. Doesn’t matter. They still love me. I am lovable.

There’s V who will always be a bit of a puzzle to me and whom other people will always pick up on the strange tension between us. They see something but what it is, they couldn’t name. Not that V or I could name it ourselves. It has strange undertones that hint a possible karmic origins.

There’s the Israeli who enjoys enigmas and has it in his head that we’re nothing more than subatomic particles who can never actually touch. It’s a shame, too. I’d do a world of good for that boy. Any loneliness he feels is self-imposed. I cannot convince him otherwise. You must meet a man where he is. And I’ve long since left the fantasy world of who he could have been to me and just appreciate him for who he really is. No illusions. No day dreams.

Even these two are still in my life.

Only the 🦄 is gone. I was such a mess of a human being that I didn’t know how to deal with him. Wherever he is (it isn’t NYC), I would wish two things: 1. He gave up on the whole “I’ll never fall in love” bit and 2. That he could know me as I am now and not the codependent needy hayseed I once was when we met. Despite him thinking he wasn’t that special, he really was. I hope he knows how special he is. If I had a magic lamp and three wishes, my second would be for him to check in with me.

They always come back. The men, I mean. They each of them have a confetti sized piece of my heart. They could have more, some of them…the best ones. But I don’t feel any less because they don’t take more. If anything, when someone wants to devour me whole, it’s a red flag that makes me run for the hills. This way, with my heart safely in the possession of so many, I get to float from love to love and feel the fullness of plenty.