Once, I believed – In forever. In magic. In the story I thought would be mine...

She is not waiting for a fairytale. She just never stopped believing in magic.

I grew up on a steady diet of movies and songs that romanticized love – that made love feel like everything.

The way he looked at her. The way he fought for her. The way the world faded when they were together.

I believed in that kind of love — hopelessly, completely.

A love that was loud and sure and wrapped in grand gestures.

A man who would drop everything just to make me smile.

Who would read my silences, hold my face in his hands, and say, “You are all I want.” (Cringe, I know 😊)

Love songs felt like prophecy. Every lyric, a promise.

I’d walk home imagining someone running after me in the rain, not ready to let me go.

I’d watch a movie and feel my heart ache at the idea of being loved like that — madly, unreasonably, entirely.

The kind of love where one look said everything.

Where arms opened before you even knew you needed to be held.

Where someone would do anything just to stop your tears.

And for a while, I thought I had found it.

I got married very young. Full of dreams, full of hope. And I tried. I really did. I gave it my all, thinking love would be enough — that if I just held on, the fairytale would catch up.

But it didn’t.

The marriage broke in quiet, painful ways. Not with screaming or dramatic exits — but with the slow erosion of being unseen. Of feeling alone beside someone. Of realizing that love, or whatever was left of it, wasn’t holding us together anymore.

Leaving that marriage was heartbreaking. Not just because of what I walked away from — but because of everything I thought love was supposed to be.

The dream crumbled. The lyrics went silent.

And I had to face the truth — that love doesn’t always look the way we were told it would.

In the years since, I’ve learned what else love can be.

I’ve found strength in being on my own. I’ve discovered the power of financial independence, of respect, of choosing peace over passion.

And yes — life moved on. I moved on.

I’m happily married now.

But love, now, looks different.

Softer. Quieter. Grounded in reality. Shared calendars, tired evenings, small joys, and ordinary days.

Still…

There’s a part of me that hasn’t changed.

The girl who once believed in magic still lives somewhere inside.

She still dreams of being someone’s world.

Still believes in slow dances and love letters.

Still hopes for that one look across the room that says, “It’s always been you.”

She wants to be spun around for no reason, kissed on the forehead, and told that she lights up the room — just like the movies once promised.

And when an old love song plays, she stirs.

She closes her eyes.

And for a few tender moments, she believes again —

in the kind of love that made her heart race,

the kind that never needed to make sense,

the kind that lived in lyrics and lingered in dreams.

Because some parts of us never really grow up.

And maybe they don’t need to.

#HeartWideOpen #OnceIBelieved #Magic #Heartbreak #WhenTheMusicPlays #SheStillBelieves #HealingThroughWords #RawAndReal #ThatGirl #WomenWhoWrite #EmotionalSpace