Still Believing in Forever

Lately, time feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.

Maybe it’s the birthdays passing by, the quiet mornings that feel a little quieter, or the way I sometimes catch my reflection and realize just how much life has already happened. I’m not old but I’m not the same girl I used to be either. And somewhere in the mix of memories and milestones, there’s always been this one dream I’ve held onto: I want to be married.

Not just for the wedding. Not for the flowers, the dress, or the photos though sure, those would be beautiful. I want the marriage. The commitment. The partnership. The late-night talks, the shared laughs, the hands held through the storms. I want someone to build with. Grow old with. Do life with.

And some days, I wonder: is it still coming for me?

Because life is short. We say it all the time, but it hits different when you feel it. When you start measuring time by how fast your nieces and nephews grow, by how many people you’ve lost, or by how many times you’ve had to rebuild your heart after disappointments. I feel it in the quiet moments when I wish someone was just… there. A presence. A promise. A person who sees all of me and chooses to stay.

I know love doesn’t come on demand. I know it’s not a race or a checklist. But I also know I’m human. And part of being human is longing for connection, for companionship, for the kind of love that says, “no matter what, I’m here.”

So yes, I’m getting older. And no, I don’t have it all figured out. But I still believe. I still believe in the kind of love that lasts. I still believe my forever person is out there, maybe wondering the same things I am. I still believe that life short as it is - is enough time to love deeply and fiercely and beautifully.

Until then, I’ll keep growing. I’ll keep hoping. I’ll keep living.

And I’ll keep believing that love is never too late.