Turning 30 in a year, and it hits me sometimes—I’ve never really experienced love. Not the grand gestures, just the simple, real stuff. Someone to cook with, take random trips, and cuddle through the night. Someone I can be soft, silly, and totally myself with. I’m not asking for perfection—just someone emotionally present. And yes, I do get a little jealous when I see two guys holding hands, looking all soft and in love. I want that too. And I’m still holding out hope it’ll happen.