Dating in My Mid-Twenties: A Horror Story

Sometimes I sit with myself and think: maybe I’m the problem. Maybe I want too much. Maybe love is not meant for me in this life. But deep down, I know I’m not asking for too much , I’m just asking for the right thing. For something genuine. For someone who sees the good heart I carry and says, “That’s the one.” After losing my fiancé ,someone I was with for six whole years — it hasn’t been easy. Trying again, starting over, and hoping again… it’s been draining. And every time I think I’ve found someone serious, it turns into disappointment. A new kind of silence. A different way of being left behind. And then the pressure comes from home. My parents look at me like I’m just too picky, like I want a man who is perfectly perfect. But what they don’t understand is — I’m not asking for perfection. I’m asking for peace. For effort. For intention. For someone who wants marriage, not just conversations that lead nowhere. I’m tired. I’m patient, but I’m tired. I just want someone I can talk to someone who sees me, understands me, respects me, and says, “Let’s build something real. maybe Allah see us through , a simple girl who's pouring her heavy heart,