The Unwitnessed

There are moments at 6:33 a.m. where I’m drinking my matcha latte and watching the sun come up that I wish someone was sitting across from me.

Enjoying the moment with me.

I’ve lived alone for so long. I am comfortable and enjoy my own company. I don’t feel lonely 95% or the time, but that 5% creeps in the mundane moments where I’m cooking dinner or early mornings, late nights.

I am not lonely, but I feel unwitnessed.

Singlehood is empowering, but it’s hard. Humans tend to crave connection with others, to feel seen, to have people understand them. We want to share our happy moments with others we know will revel in our joy and amplify us.

Most of my moments go unwitnessed. I am the one responsible for amplifying my joy, nourishing my body, enjoying the required sunrise quiet and taking long drives on the weekend to acquire pastries and drive through the mountains.

This is a life I am content in 95% of the time.

The 5% yearns for a partner and to be able to set two coffee mugs out in the morning instead of one.

Maybe one day that will happen.

Until then, I will witness my own revelations and nurture an even better relationship with myself.

After all, the love of self is the wildest, but most rewarding journey I’ve been on so far. I look forward to more sunrises, sunsets, hours spent browsing the spines of books in bookstores and coming away with a stack that will take me months to read.

Treat yourself the same way you would a lover. Buy yourself the fucking flowers and witness the beauty in the ordinary moments and give the most delicate care, attention to your needs. Witness your growth, your beauty the same way you watch flowers bloom in gardens built with your own capable hands.

You deserve it all.

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