I don’t know how to describe myself when it comes to my love life. My history of love has gone through phases. I fell in love, high school love. The love that was sweet and young. He bought me flowers, cheap jewelry that high schoolers could afford. He surprised me with love letters and sweet gestures. We couldn’t let a minute of free time pass without texting, or being around each other. But he went off to college and I was still in high school. He broke up with me over text and that was that.

Once I got a taste of love, I didn’t want to let it go. I wanted more. It was like I became an addict that couldn’t find their drug. The only thing I wanted to talk about was who my next boyfriend could be. I was found constantly talking or thinking about a guy. If a boy showed even a glimpse of interest in me, then I was into him. I slept with guys because I liked them or because I thought they liked me. Because I was testing them to see if they would still be there in the morning, or maybe I was just drunk. I was hoping that they would fall for me and keep coming back, but they didn’t. I had issues to work through and I thought I could get through them by finding a man in bed. I’ll write about some of those adventures, I mean guys later. ;)

Let me give you a bit of disclosure before I go any further. I am a 26-year-old American woman who is single and is working on learning how not to settle. I tell you this because I want you to know that all of my Looking For Love stories, were not successful. At least not in longevity. They were successful in many other ways. And all in their own unique ways.

I found my second love. We would joke about something at work and then that night I felt so welcome to just text him about it. I didn’t care if he would find me annoying. I didn’t care if anything came out of it or not. He was awkward and endearing. We fell in love and we couldn’t stop. We were inseparable at first. We were each other's best friends. We were our early mornings and our late nights. When we laid in bed, I fit perfectly on his chest. But we spent too much time together. We both wanted to be around each other but we both needed space. The thing that really tore us apart was that we couldn’t tell each other the truth about how we felt anymore. We both wanted space but we didn’t want to hurt each other's feelings.

Then we broke up. He said those words to me and I was heartbroken. My chest was in pain and I couldn’t stop crying. I knew something was wrong before this point but I thought we could work through it. After about 30 minutes of both of us crying, I finally just ran off. I left and went home. I avoided him at work until that Friday. He saw me and I tried to run off but he caught me. He bought me coffee and asked me to dinner that night. That was the start of the next year and a half of essentially being in a relationship without the title and commitment of a future together. Then things got too serious too quickly and we ended. The last time he and I talked with the hope of continuing things was a year ago. Almost to the day. This last year has been me trying to get over him.

And now, it’s about me trying to be the best version of myself in and out of my dating life. It’s about focusing on myself, finding love, finding happiness, and laughing at my mishaps along the way.

I’m a 26 year old woman finding my way through this chaotic world while trying to make it a bit brighter.