I used to dream that I would find a hero.

I dreamt that a wizard would defeat the Dark Lord just so he could be with me.

I dreamt that a madman in a blueblox would take me all over the universe to show me the stars.

I dreamt that a knight in shining armor would fight a dragon just win my heart.

I dreamt that a man and his noble steed would climb the highest of towers just to see my face.

I dreamt that a cute boy would come along and fix me.

Now  by some power in the universe I found this boy and I was sure that he could save me.

I was sure that his smile would fill me up inside and replace the pain with butterflies.

I was so certain that if I had him by my side I could take on the world. And I was right.

This boy taught me to smile again and I started healing.

He made me feel wanted and that’s all I thought I needed. A cute boy with a cute smile telling me I was pretty.

It wasn’t until months of being drunk in love that I realized I was lying to myself.

Nothing had changed. I was just as broken.

While at worship the preacher asked me to look her in the eyes and tell her that I was God’s beautiful masterpiece. And I couldn’t do it.

There was a sharp pain in my heart and a lump in my throat as every fear and insecurity that I had locked away came seeping through the cracks. I broke down and cried, but why? I asked myself.

I had this cute boy with his cute smile and that was supposed to save me, right? I was supposed to be happy. But no, I was just fooling myself.

Now before I get the groans because I’m just another white girl with her struggles, let me tell you that my boyfriend and I are doing just fine. He has held my heart for the past 19 months and whenever I hear the word Love I think of him.

Love is great and love is kind, but that’s not how I see it in my own mind. I put all my effort in loving him and forgetting to love myself.

I am damaged and I am broken.

I am a leaf in the wind, but instead of soaring I am falling.

I hit the ground hard and get trampled on so that others might feel the joy of crunching a leaf.

I used to dream that I would find a hero.

I dreamt that he could pick up the pieces of my soul that were shattered and mend them.

I dreamt that a boy could solve my problems.

But I don’t need a hero to save me, I need myself.



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