Dear Universe

After all I’ve endured, after the breaking and rebuilding, I find myself terrified to ask for what my soul craves. The truth is, I have known loneliness wrapped in company, silence screaming in the spaces where love should have been. I have walked through the fire, carrying the weight of my past. I have spent years healing, reclaiming myself piece by piece, and yet, there is a longing within me that remains—one not just for love, but for a connection that feels destined. The kind of love that is written not just in fleeting passion but in the very fabric of the universe itself.

But that man, he must be one who walks with purpose, who understands that true strength is not found in dominance but in character. In the quiet moments of unwavering loyalty. In the integrity that shapes his every action. He must be a man forged by his own trials, one who understands that the past is not a place to dwell but a journey that has sculpted him into someone who sees—truly sees—without judgment. Someone who knows that we are not our wounds, but the lessons we have carried forward from them.

His eyes must hold depth, the kind that I could lose myself in for days—eyes that speak of truth, tenderness, and wisdom without pretense. His smile should be warm, confident, the kind that feels like home even in the midst of chaos. And when he speaks, let his words be honest, even when the truth is heavy, because love without truth is an illusion I refuse to entertain. Let him be a man whose loyalty is unquestionable, because I have known the ache of betrayal, and I will never again accept anything less than certainty.

He must be passionate—not just in love, but in life. In his work, his dreams, the way he moves through the world with fire and purpose. He should take pride in what he builds, whether with his hands or his mind, driven not by ego but by the need to create something meaningful. But in that passion, let there be kindness—a heart that beats with compassion, one that cares for others not out of obligation, but because it is who he is at his core.

Family must be sacred to him. Not just in the biological sense, but in the understanding that love is something nurtured, something honored. He must know that family is built in the small moments—Sunday mornings filled with laughter, meals shared with gratitude, hands held through struggles and triumphs. He must believe in showing up, not just in words but in action. He should understand that love is not simply grand gestures, but in the daily, quiet commitments—the way we protect and uplift each other, the way we create a home that is safe, warm, and filled with love. He should be a man who values tradition but also believes in forging new ones together, a man who knows that family is not about perfection but about presence, about choosing each other, day after day.

He must be emotionally intelligent, capable of navigating the depths of feeling with me—able to sit in silence when words are too much, yet willing to dive into conversations that stretch the mind and shake the soul. A man who respects my independence, who does not seek to control but to stand beside me, fully engaged, fully present. He must understand that love is not about possession, but about elevation—about growing together, not just as lovers but as partners in life.

I ask for a protector—not in the sense of battle, but in presence. A man whose arms feel like sanctuary, whose energy makes me feel safe—physically, emotionally, spiritually. One who moves with intention, who understands boundaries, who communicates openly and without fear. A man who will never see my strength as a threat, but as something to cherish. A man who will encourage my growth, not as something to fix, but as something to celebrate.

He should love the wild places as I do—the scent of earth after rain, the crackle of fire under the stars, the adventure of the unknown. But also, let him revel in the quiet—the stillness of a dimly lit room, the warmth of tangled limbs on a couch, the melody of a shared playlist humming in the background. Let him be a man whose presence lingers, who carries a scent that stays on my skin long after he’s gone, a reminder that he was here, that he is real.

And let his hands—strong but gentle—be the ones that will hold mine through all that is to come.

Universe, I designed this request to be, what I view as impossible to find, I do not ask for perfection, only alignment. I do not seek fantasy, only what is meant for me. If he is out there, guide our paths to cross. And if he, too, is searching, let him find me as I find him.

I think I'm ready.

With love,

Me 🫶🫖