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Although – to my disappointment in myself – I’ve been playing halfsies lately, I am and always will be an all or nothing kind of girl. Some say that will be my downfall – not understanding how to compromise, how to just accept what’s being handed to me. But tell me really, would any of you compromise in matters of the heart? Looking down at my “pickiness” from a standpoint of more or less blissful coupled happiness can you, hands on your hearts, look me in the eye and tell me to just settle already?

My heart would never be content in a state of settling (not settling down, mind you); it would constantly be tingling or aching, according to the weather outside, or to the way the air smells, or to the memories those fragrances conjure up. It would be forever wondering what I might have missed by accepting less than what I wanted just because others told me I should.

They say you shouldn’t fall in love with potential – it’s a sure fire recipe for disaster and heartache. Potential stems expectations and oh, boy! are expectations easily ready to breed disappointment. Still, I can’t help myself but do that; I don’t just see someone for who they are right now, in this very point in time and space. My mind goes to places you’d never imagine existed, I see hundreds of different possibilities of that person growing into much more than they dreamt of. And that’s not discontent on my part, not at all! It’s just what I call dangerous optimism. Because as much of a realist as I am with my own life and potential, I’m just as much of a hopelessly optimistic fool with other people’s paths. And this is how I break my own heart.

Yet somehow I know I’d be more content in my self-induced heartbroken state than I’d ever be settling for less than I want just for the sake of settling down.

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