Beggining.

If the word "single" would be a bottle of water, we would never be thirsty again. Six bottomless, random letters that brings to the surface dozens of meanings, hundreds of theories and thousands of emotions. Two syllables that either gain respect in 2 seconds or push you out of any line. Positive and negative. Insulting or flattering. And behind all of that millions of stories, so alike and different in the same time. Stories of making a choice, being one or not having any. Inspiring, disgusting, thrilling, happy and sometimes just breaking heart. All true. Sometimes too much.

I’m not sure about many things in my life, but always was clear about one – I am made as a half to other human being. Felt it under my skin just like rays of sun warms you on sunny day. It started with usual childhood dreams: holding hands, valentines cards and stolen kisses. Bit later came first affection: uncountable texts, freshly baked baguettes delivered between 12 red roses, looking into someone’s eyes while sharing pizza and deliberating is it already date or just casual meeting with someone, who was hopped to become more than a friend. Then first broken heart. Big and painful. Pieces all over the floor were never supposed to be whole again. But they did... pretty fast, and being single become an exciting opportunity to meet new people. For the next few years this word vanished from a daily vocabulary. Young people don’t care about time, status or future. They think they grab God’s feet while live in and for today. No boxes or labels, anything that could distance them from blurry vision of freedom or independence.

Suddenly one day, behind the corner we meet Someone, who turns our world upside down. Puts all the puzzles in right places and fill every gap. In that particular moment, in this one second our “single” status become the most unwanted point in a CV. Desire to be his/hers keeps us awake during (too!) long nights, and sits in front of our thoughts in every blown off birthday candle. What a heavenly feeling when with "i love you too", you can eventually admit to yourself, that you found what you were always looking for deep inside. That both of you made a choice to not being single anymore.

But love stories don’t always last long, and sometimes life brutally pushed you back to the places that you don’t fit. I was not given a choice, asked or warned. Left with my dreams ripped into pieces on my lap and hole in heart that can’t ever been filled. But breathing. And till there’s place for breath, there’s also for hope. And all I need is a single one.