As a girl, I was scared of rejection. I was so scared of never being loved back while all the nice girls found their early happy ending just like all the fairytales.
I always feared to become a 30-year-old virgin, especially because my mother had taught me that men were evil but dating girls was sad because that meant no babies.
In the end, my first love was someone who had sent me letters after liking my photography. It lasted three years, until we drifted apart politically, when he joined extremist right-wing groups in 2013, and I felt as if he’d just joined the death-eaters or become a Sith Lord. I was a nerdy girl back then.
And full of pain.
So, I made it a habit to fall for people who carry pain and sadness in their eyes. I found a sad boy in my first weeks of university. He offered to hold me tight at night, only to one day tell me that I needed to be held too much and he could not love me. He dated my friend soon after and expected me to cheer him on. The next sad boy I found could easily turn into a mad boy, and I soon packed my things again. I met a sad man quite a bit older than me, who slept with me all summer, to then tell me that he also did not love me, but that I mustn’t be sad, because he did not even love his wife back in the days.
After that, I found a man so sad, he often hid his eyes from me. Just when I was sure he wanted me, the world faced disaster and started burning, and we were torn apart. I fought my way back to him through closed borders and broken hearts, and after years of suffering, succeeded. We spent nights together telling each other all our secrets and drinking on how broken we were.
I found my voice in those moments, and I suddenly knew who I was. I listened to the song “All I wanted” by Daughter while crying over this new knowledge. All that I wanted was not there, but I dared. Be wanted.
Good for me, because he eventually let me go again, hoping to see me soon, but when is soon?
After that, I fell for a man who did not seem sad at first. He had a wild expression in his kind eyes, and when he saw me, he smiled so much that his face would melt. I ran into him a few times too often, and he gave me a mixtape, touched me gently, and talked to me all night. Then, he sat me down and admitted how much he felt for me. Too much to handle. And although it was mutual, he left. And I thought: Oh, what a romance this was!
There are so many levels of rejection.
Some come with love, and some without.
Some can only ever come to be in a world shaped by plague and war.
So, fight for it.
Embarrass yourself.
Be needy.
Aks that person out.
Align to their schedule.
Pour out your heart.
Fall in love.
Lose yourselves together.
The world keeps getting darker either way, so don’t miss out on things.
This is not the time for fairytales, so don’t let things end too soon.
Mistress witch writes 