I wish I was the ONE.

I haven’t really talked about personal things too much.

I had a boyfriend.  He was helping me through a hard time and I was getting better a little but he wasn’t happy.  He didn’t want a sick girlfriend, he didn’t want the things I wanted for my future, he didn’t … a lot of things.

And I wasn’t the one.  I wasn’t the right woman for a lot of reasons.  And I wish I was.

I know I can’t change for him.  I know I don’t want him to change for me, not really.  I want him to be happy.  I want him to make the most of his life.  I want to make the most of my life.  I want to be healthy.  I want to be happy.  I want to make a positive impact in my space in the world.

And I can … but … not beside him.

And yes, I still wish I was the one.

I’m not.

I am going to have remind myself that at night when I go to sleep, in the hopes my dreams won’t betray me with false hope.

I am going to have to remind myself when I wake up, so I start living my life for myself — all alone.

But the truth is, that wishing, even as hard as I can and have been, won’t change anything — I am not the one.  Whoever she is, however she is, it doesn’t matter, because I am not her and I never could be her.  I can’t wish this one true.  The one isn’t me.

And I have to let go.  Let go of him.

And let go of my wish.

After all, it is what he wanted.