The standard you left behind. - by Mimi🥀🌬️

‎"You are the woman of my dreams."‎‎He said to me one night over the phone, and I blushed so hard I could barely find the right words to respond.‎‎I fell in love. Not once. Not twice.‎‎But over and over again with the same person.‎‎My first love.‎‎Love found me when I wasn't looking for it.‎‎It found me when I was innocent.‎‎The typical "hard-to-get" girl.‎‎Pretty, yet emotionally unavailable.‎‎Curious, yet indifferent.‎‎Then I met him.‎‎And somehow, after several trials and errors, he won my heart.‎‎My man.‎‎Obim.‎‎Father of my unborn children.‎‎My baby.‎‎My vulnerability.‎‎My Odogwu.‎‎I could call you a thousand names and still feel like I've left some out, but one thing I hope you know is this:‎‎I loved you.‎‎And when I said I did, I meant it.‎‎Before him, I had almost accepted the popular belief that true love doesn't exist—a beautiful story people told themselves.‎‎Then he came along and proved otherwise.‎‎He taught me that love is not merely spoken.‎‎Love is shown.‎‎He taught me that being vulnerable did not mean being taken for granted.‎‎He taught me that love is being seen, heard, and valued.‎‎He taught me that love is an action—physically, emotionally, financially, and spiritually.‎‎He taught me that love cannot survive on sweet words,long paragraphs, and promises alone.‎‎Love is effort.‎‎Love is consistency.‎‎Love is intentionality.‎‎He taught me that after a fight, pride should never be more important than peace.‎‎That sometimes love is calling first.‎‎He taught me that people make time for what truly matters to them.‎‎That no one is ever too busy for the person they genuinely love.‎‎What made him different wasn't just how he loved me.‎‎It was how safe he made me feel.‎‎He knew my siblings. My family. ‎‎He cared about the people I cared about.‎‎He reminded me every day that I was the prize.‎‎Not because I demanded it, but because that was how he saw me.‎‎For the first time, I allowed myself to be vulnerable.‎‎And somehow, he matched that vulnerability with his own.‎‎He listened.‎‎He paid attention.‎‎He involved me in his decisions.‎‎He valued my opinions.‎‎He respected my thoughts.‎‎He celebrated my happiness as though it were his own.‎‎When I smiled, he laughed.‎‎He found peace, in my peace.‎‎He brought laughter to my days and warmth to my heart.‎‎Somehow, even ordinary days felt special with him around.‎‎There was a feeling he gave me that I cannot fully explain.‎‎The kind that makes you want to hold on a little longer.‎‎The kind that makes tomorrow seem exciting.‎‎The kind that feels like home.‎‎I may not be able to write down everything he did for me.‎‎Some memories are too beautiful for words I guess.‎‎But one thing I know for certain is this:‎‎If I have experienced true love before, what makes you think I will settle for less?‎‎I don't think so too.‎‎Because now I can tell the difference between love and lust.‎‎Between love and infatuation.‎‎Between being wanted and being valued.‎‎So until true love finds me again, I am not settling.‎‎I remain hopeful.‎‎I remain optimistic.‎‎Because somewhere out there, genuine love still exists.‎‎I've seen it.‎‎I've felt it.‎And because I've experienced it once, I know it can find me again.‎

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