I would fall in love with the idea of them.

Eternally attracted to the broken. An internal need to fix in them, what I could never fix within myself.

Destined to see the best in people. An addict to potential, falling in love with who they could be, never with who they were.

I would love them as my imagined ‘best version’ of themselves. And as time wore on, and they ‘refused’ to grow, my love would diminish, my attention would waiver.

Forever wondering if they were ever in love with me, or were they simply in love with the person I saw them to be. Did they fall in love with their own reflection in my eyes, they way I spoke of their bright future as if a definite reality, was I born to be a mirror?

I called it the 11 month curse, unable to keep a relationship for more than 11 months, now realising this was the unconscious timeline I gave to change.

I fell in love with a man who did not need saving, he saw my soul within my eyes, not his own reflection. For the first time I did not fall in love with potential, I fell in love with reality, in the here and now.

He didn’t cure me of my curse, he did not save me. I never needed another to do that.

As I took the rose coloured glasses off my life, I began to cure myself.