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A few weeks ago, I met someone. And my life changed.

Look at me, I'm a walking fucking cliché. The cynic, the skeptic, the blasphemer, the non-believer meets “the one”, and suddenly becomes the biggest hypocrite to walk this green Earth.

Flashback to one month ago. Who am I? I am the woman... who has gone through hell and back to get to where I am. I'd lost myself, stripped myself off completely, and gone on a journey to build myself up again. And I did. And I did it through my experiences, the people I met, the things I learnt and shared. I am independent. I am strong. I am in control. My mind is clear, and I've reached a point where I know what I want, and crucially- I am happy. Happy in a place where my happiness doesn't depend on anyone else. Knowing that I may never find a partner again – and being genuinely okay with it.

And now... now my definition of everything has changed. I have changed. The older me is there, and a lot of my beliefs and views are there. And I am in the process of reconciling the two sides in me. And it's okay. I'm getting there, and it's not as hard as I thought it would be.

I am doing something absolutely crazy. I am doing something that no-one I have ever known has done. And it's mine, and it's his. There is nobody else, and there never will be. Of that, I am sure.

It's kind of like oreo and milk.