Love advice

I’m Too Glorious To Be Half-loved


You’re promising me the sun and stars, promising me everything that I can think of. You’ll take care of me, treat me like a princess, you say.

You will take me to fancy restaurants, the best clubs and the most elite events, you say. But when will you love me? When will you make me your One? When will I become something more than just a number on your list?

“You know you’re my number one always.” But I’m not. Your number one is the only person you care about, and that’s you. And you know what? I refuse to be number two.


I deserve more than being your last resort. I deserve to be cherished and loved like there’s no tomorrow. I deserve that movie kind of love, that love Michelle and Barack have.

That love that brings tears to everyone’s eyes, that love people write books and poems about. If you only understood that. If you only opened your eyes and saw how much I cared about you.

How I was ready to give you all of me, how I was ready to settle down with you for the long-term. But you couldn’t. You were too busy looking under other women’s skirts.

I deserve more than being a booty call. I loved making love to you. I loved how our bodies moved in sync, I loved how our heartbeats were in rhythm.

I loved the taste of your lips and the feeling of your weight on me. But that was the only thing I felt from you. Not once did I feel like you cared about me, not once did I feel like you loved me.

You never asked how I was. You never asked how my day was. Not once did you ask me if maybe I wanted us just to stay home and cuddle. Just the two of us.


Touching and breathing together. Talking. I wanted to know who you were, I wanted to know how you felt, what you dreamed of and what you feared. Instead, I only knew what turned you on.

I refuse to settle for being your arm candy. I guess there was no possibility for you to know how amazing I really was. You never knew all the crazy and ambitious dreams I had.

I want to have my own publishing house, I want to adopt a dog. I want to finish my book at last. I fear spiders, but I have no problem with jumping out of an airplane.

I fear mice, but I’m perfectly fine petting a snake. I’m vulnerable and invincible at the same time. I’m both feminine and masculine. But you only saw what you needed and what you wanted to see. And that has nothing to do with my soul, only my body.


I refuse to settle for your half love. I know I deserve more, I know my worth and I refuse to let you take it. I refuse to let you drown me in your sweet words and touches, because there’s more to love than that.

Love is more than telling someone they’re beautiful. It’s more than making empty promises. It’s so much more than telling them they’re number one.

It’s about making me feel beautiful, it’s about making me feel like I’m the only woman in the world. I don’t need your words to assure me that you’re faithful, I need your actions to prove it.

I don’t need your words to feel pretty, I need you to look at me, I need you to actually see me.

I’m too glorious to settle down. I’m too full of life and I have so much to offer to someone who will actually appreciate it. I dream, I believe, I cry and I fall.

I may be a screw-up, but I’m a fucking amazing one. And I love that about me. I love how I’m a bit of everything and I love the amazing mess I am.

I never needed a man to tell me that, I never needed a man to feel loved. I did that on my own. But I wanted to love someone, I wanted to be appreciated by that someone.

I wanted to give my heart, to give everything I had, just to make that one person happy. But the thing is, you’re not that person. You don’t deserve me and I deserve so much more than your half love.



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