Relationships

And I want to believe, I want to believe. I want to believe so much that people believe just by looking at me. I want to believe so much that it pours off of me in waves and is visible to a chosen few, who then yearn for something they can't quite place, but want desperately all the same. I want to believe so much that I'll be crowned Queen of Belief at the annual Belief Days event, during which there is a carnival and vendors set up around a town square and the parade is magnificent, especially given the size of the town.
I want to believe.
But I'm afraid.
Even though he'll whisper to me that it's not the same, that he's different, that WE'RE different, that the other two weren't my fault, I won't be able to stop wondering how it could NOT be me when both marriages failed. He'll remind me of the other common denominator in those marriages, and remind me that it will not factor in this time, and I will still worry.
And yet...
at the same time, I feel like I'm actually, finally, really MYSELF. And that I'm ready to be myself first, and part of something bigger second.