A sweetheart story is what I crave. The sweep-off-the-feet type that rides my heart into the sunset with the faint letters rolling in the background. As innocent as prince charming, in desperate search of their damsel in distress.

Bring the dreams, pull them from the bottom of your heart, and open them. Gaze upon each moment with that pinkish hue, like the world is a new color. The skip of the breath, the gaze into a companion’s eyes, and even a simple “hello'“makes the heart swoon in color.

Crayons were all I had when it came to my dreams. Each color became another opportunity for me to stretch. I could innocently sketch two stick figures holding hands and that was enough for me—I wish it were still, now.

Daisies are my favorite flowers; the irony here is that I hate flowers. They look so pretty, growing there in perfect beauty, but rotting right after you start to believe in them. As though you had hope that they would not run away, that their immortal beauty will stay for you to feel happy.

Everyone has a soulmate, so philosophy tells me. That, in the same way our cheesy heartthrobs have their happy endings, we can have ours. I find it hard to believe, that the significant other we manifest in our hearts is out there. Impossible.

Freshman year was the first time I thought I found mine. A sweet summer camp love song that I imagined, and scribbled into my head. Never questioning the tasks, I followed every word as if I had found my soulmate. It lasted only a month, and I felt nothing.

Good people come and go, as my mother tells me, that people can join our lives for a season or a lifetime. No matter how good we try to be, we will always mix up the season people with lifetime expectations. Even if you craved it, that season could change.

How do I stop my heart from giving into someone with no heart to give? How can someone just get up and leave? How does the heart hurt more than your body can take? How did you teach me what real heartbreak is like? How did you feel after you broke up with me?

I dated three people before finding what every princess wanted. Like one of those Disney movies, I fell hard for the very first time. Even after consistently telling myself I had never wanted another crush, I found him. You never expect heartbreak to send you to the hospital.

Just kidding—is what I said to myself once I left the hospital that night, a burning sensation rising in my nose. Even after testing negative for COVID-19, I felt positive for despondency. On that quiet night, I knew the difference between wanting it and experiencing it.

Kindness is my favorite trait in a person. Just a simple door-opening or a “Don't worry I can do it for you,” leaves the heart thumping. But everyone has kindness, and everyone can open doors.

Love: (verb) feel deep affection for (someone) “I loved you since the day we met. That the stars in your eyes finally met mine. Your gas balls of light shine in their radiant beauty. Though your stars were white, mine was pink. Same type, reason unmatched.”

My belief in love caved in for years until I found him. I was so fixated on my own soul that, my belief in soulmates had hibernated for years. I was alone and in control, that's all that mattered—until June 4, 2020.

No one expects love to hurt as much as its euphoria. The smiles grow wider while the tears stream longer. The heart races faster and faster as it offers more of a reason to suffer. The only way to know true love is based on how hard the aftermath is.

Opportunities come in unique shapes and sizes. Some in your worst endeavors and others in your amazing success. It has always been told to me that I could make hit sellers just talking about anytime that I have cried. This is one of those times.

Public writings are made for the eyes of many. Two sets of stars gaze on these pieces from authors, editors, publishers, buyers, and you. Reading this paper right now, thousands of thoughts racing through your head. I see you; I understand you, and I love you.

Questions for those who are in a relationship: Are you scared it could end at any moment? Did you ever come out of a rough break up in one piece? Do you think that after my first real heartache, things will be okay? When did you know to say I love you?

Regrettable decisions keep me awake at night. Why did I forget to shower that day? Did I say that when I was upset? Why did I fall so hard, when I knew it wouldn’t last? I am haunted by these thoughts in my attempt to rest, so I do the only thing I can—write.

Sometimes, in-between writing this paper, I get stuck. I sit in the silent void in my room and think of him. His dimpled smile, the way he called me every night to tell me goodnight, and how he lied to me through a simple break up text, when he said he would never hurt me like that. Touché.

Time is the only way to heal internal wounds like this. No matter the number of tears and piled up work, it will never heal faster. The only thing we can do is move our minds further. Find a way to conquer the pain and do something about it.

Until I finish this essay, I will never be able to have the closure I want. As we near the end of the alphabet, I hope you—the reader—have experienced something in this journey. That the only resort we have to fix these wounds are the mechanisms we turn to the most.

Violence has never been the answer when I undergo certain troubles like this. I never felt the need to hurt an ex because deep down, I remember the woman I want to become. I never wish any harm to those who leave me. For they too might be in the same ache of pain.

Wailing ceases from my heart, now just a solemn peace and silence. I know that I might find love again, but the time I take now will help me grow stronger—better. My innocent thoughts of love, now, aren't clouded by that pinkish hue, but are carved into a better mind.

X-ray on my chest that night, October 13th; I expected for them to see a broken and cracked heart, that my tears were the signs of my failing organ. As those three hours went by, I realized my heart was never broken in the first place. It was hurt, but not broken.

You near the end of this essay, my fellow lover. While I know your time is limited in this world, know one very important thing. In the terror of this world, there will be better days. A time in which you can get back up again. Know that as bad as it hurts, your heart still beats.

Zillion upon zillions of reasons exists in this universe for me to keep holding on, to grip that pain and milk it dry, creeps my thoughts at every corner. Though I must move on to explore many other lives, I will encounter and like you, I am done with this essay as much as I am with him.

I love you

-Julexis Gonzalez

Julexis Gonzalez is a College Freshman at Stetson Unversity. She is an experienced playwright and actor and is striving to be an author as well. She intends on writing stories that will impact the lives of many. You can find her on Twitter @julexabean