sunny's side ups.
ever tried cooking a sunny-side-up, only to end up with a disaster that makes you question your life choices? i swear, it’s like i have a curse when it comes to things that need a gentle touch. hindi ko alam kung bakit, pero every single time, those damn eggs either come out like charcoal or they’re barely cooked, like they’re just mocking me from the pan. it’s honestly kind of embarrassing—and a little funny, if you think about it. and it makes me wonder, if i can’t even trust myself with an egg, how can i trust myself to love again?
love’s kind of like that, 'no? fragile, needing just the right amount of heat. too much, and it burns out; too little, and it’s undercooked, leaving you with a mess that no one wants to deal with. and maybe that’s why i keep fucking up—both in the kitchen and in love. i overthink, i overdo, i over-everything until what’s supposed to be something beautiful is just… not.
and every time i think about getting back out there, trying again, my mind goes back to those burnt eggs. what if i screw it up again? what if i’m just not cut out for this? maybe i should just stick to what i know—letting someone else do the cooking, letting someone else love me, because clearly, i can’t trust myself to get it right.
but then again… what if? what if this time, i don’t overthink it? what if i just… try? maybe it won’t end in disaster. or maybe it will. but how will i know if i don’t give it a shot?
can i trust myself to love again? or am i destined to burn every chance i get?
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