The problem with choosing to love someone is they have the choice to love someone, too, and not always you.
It was in my hopes for a promising future with you that I lost sight of myself.Had I been honest with my feelings you would have known you never really had a chance.
In all actuality, you are not even an option;
You are a convenience that ends nicely
When my love life has been a little lonely.
I love – our arrangements.
There are no questions asked
Just needs met.
I love – the morning after.
When I revel in a fraction of a fantasy all night laying in your arms
And mornings break brings about an excuse to leave without all the awkwardness,
Well, because you and I both know what time it is.
The distance between us builds that heightened expectancy of passionate pleasures.
My body gets right in tune with your vibe as soon as we lock eyes.
It’s an unspoken kindred feeling
An indescribable place of ecstasy that you take me to every time.
Every time I find myself yearning for more
Yet pulling back because I know you leave me more often than not unfulfilled
Outside of the parameters of making my body feel good.
So I fantasize about those places your tongue knows so well
I giggle to myself thinking about how your kisses feel.
Our unspoken chemistry is without boundaries
It may be more than even we can understand,
Yet your body knows mine,
And my body craves you undeniably.
So let’s cut this short and get down to what we both know we came here for.
The anticipation eats away at me:I don’t know how you will react when you read those words.
Those words that I wrote for you in a love letter,
Enclosing my heart inside the seal that I kissed.
Placing a forever stamp on the envelope
Because that is where you will be in my heart –
Along with all our memories.
It’s been so long since last I saw you.
Far too often I catch myself wandering in the distance
Of thoughts consisting of you, and only you.
I debate whether or not you think of me this way.
I feel manic –
A bit obsessed –
I just can’t seem to get you out of my head.
I wrote that love letter at least 1,000 times.
Took me 13 years to finally come to terms with the truth;
Yes, I love you.
I torture myself over and over
Wondering have I missed the opportunity
Or if you’d even remember…me?
Surely you can’t be
The same person I knew so long ago.
I know I’ve changed –
I wonder if you’d even like the new me?
Each line of my letter is a heart string
That plays a specific melody for
Every year that we could have been together;
Just you and me.
I wanted you to be swept away in adoration
And truly see the tenderness of my love.
You are the epitome of my desire;
The gift I’m now longing to keep.
I didn’t realize it then, but I am aware now
That all I have ever wanted
Was to live in your arms.
“Where does love go if there is no one there to receive it?” pens a dear friend of mine in one of her poems entitled, To Him Whom I Love. I was enamored with that poem. It spoke of loving someone who has pulled away, no longer giving or showing the love they once professed. The natural desire to cling to what is left of that love left the person regrettably pained, confused and concerned, betrayed and yet still hopeful for something to give; for love to persist.
That’s how life is sometimes. Regrettably painful and enticingly surreal. But, where does love go if no one is there to receive it? I’ve spoken about what happens when the passion dies, but what if the passion is just dead? Gone.
Real love, not the superficial stuff people like to call love today, isn’t always glamorous. Some days it’s dull and boring. Some days it is non-existent. But how you know real from fake is by how those feelings make you react. Love is respectful. Love is a verb; an action. It doesn’t wait around or benefit from getting from others. It is selfless and giving. Even when there is nothing to gain from that giving. Being wrapped up in what love can do for you isn’t love; it’s greed.
Love is full of moments of bliss, don’t get me wrong. I mean, that’s how Hollywood makes all of its money from us; creating movies of surreal love with passion for days and romance for nights on end. We buy into it, thinking, “If only I could find a love like that,” forgetting for the moment that you possibly do have that type of love, it’s just flawed. If Hollywood really made a movie based on real life love, no one would go view it because who wants to see real life that is lived daily? We want fantasy! We want what is perfect; even if it is in a two-hour long movie.
Over the weekend I was feeling passionless. I had watched a movie that left me feeling empty inside. Those feelings turned into thoughts and those thoughts into words to my significant other about how I wasn’t sure if what we had was ‘lasting’. In my defense, long distance relationships have never been a good look on me. But I wasn’t being fair. I wasn’t taking into account his feelings. He felt the same as I did; that it seemed we were pulling away from each other and he really missed being with me.
I was being selfish. I was also being unrealistic. Letting go of what we had, which was so magical only a few weeks ago, wasn’t the answer. The passion and love is still very much there, however, I need to go about things differently. Voicing my concern to him allowed him to understand that I wasn’t happy. He no longer assumed things were okay. So he opened up about what he was feeling. Often times we hold things to ourselves and think our significant others can read our minds, which then creates frustration when they don’t. Now is that fair?
If you are unhappy with the way something is, be the one to make a change. Otherwise, stop complaining. After voicing my concerns, he planned a trip to come visit, started sending random texts throughout the day so I knew he was thinking of me and loved me, and told me to expect something in the mail. All while I was doing the same. We found what worked for us. Now in your situation, think outside the box and find answers that work for you.
The key is communication. That will forever be the number one rule in a relationship. People aren’t mind readers. In communicating, it is important to be specific about your needs, while not coming off as demanding, but realizing you may need to compromise, at least for a moment sometimes.
I want my significant other to be here. However, until he has been accepted for a job here, he doesn’t feel comfortable moving and not being able to provide. How can I not respect that? At least this one thinks about the future for “us” and not just himself. That was a compromise I was willing to accept because at least with a visit, we get to see one another.
I know in my first marriage I stopped conversing with him because he wasn’t interested in talking. He was in the market for blaming. As long as I accepted the fact that everything wrong in our marriage was my fault, he was on board to stay together. That clearly is not a healthy relationship. Nor was him trying to fight me. Needless to say, that marriage ended based on my own safety. You have to know when to let it go and when to fight harder to keep things going.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it is that you stay in the ring as long as you have someone to fight with you. Once they start fighting against you, consider if it’s worth pushing through or throwing in the towel.
I feel you moving; restless in your sleep.
Then I feel your fingers find me.
Wandering in lustful places that
Soon stir my curios appetite.
The fluorescent light from the clock says 2 a.m.
My body says fuck it, let’s do this right now.
Your arms grab me close from behind
As I feel your manhood pressed firmly against my thigh.
Our body heat rises, my nipples feel firm
As you taste them with your tongue
It’s driving my crazy, how badly for you I yearn.
Your hand parts my thighs and I feel you pressing gently against my lips.
Wetness engulfs him as my head spins.
Our bodies intertwine and become tangled in the sheets.
Our dreams become blurred reality
As the minutes and hours turn.
In the wee hours of the morn
I moan in ecstasy as your rhythm is so intoxicating.
I come so effortlessly, again and again.
The grip of your hands on my body in the dark
I whisper, come for me,
And I feel you burst from pure elation
From our pleasurable rendezvous.
I love our 2 a.m. appointments.
I love them more because they are with you.
As we lay completely spent
Smiling and snuggled close.
I feel elated and overjoyed
To have this moment to our own.
We laugh when we hear about a guy being friend zoned. It happens all too often. He tries his best to be nice and friendly, tries to be the shoulder she cries on – he tries to be everything women ‘say’ they want and need.
And then they are labelled “too nice” and find themselves in the dreaded friend zone.
I’ve friend zoned quite a few guys in my life. Some should be lucky they just got friended; I’d much rather hide under a rock from them. But sometimes it’s just bad timing. Sometimes, I don’t know what’s best for me by passing them by.
In particular, I had a friend who’s been friend zoned for like 10 years. Yet I’ve cried to him over heart ache and breakup after breakup. He tried to crawl out of the zone after each one but I shot him down.
In my recent drought of dating, when he proposed the idea, rather than chew his head off I figured why not? In my head I figured I could kill two birds with one stone; give him a chance and thereby shut him up and let him spoil me but let him down gently when our trip was over.
He was attractive but I wasn’t attracted to him. He was cool but I didn’t think he was on my level. He was skinny; I’m a big girl. I’m not trying to look like the zero to our 10. I don’t have children, but his son is like half my age because he had him early. I was totally focused on the why nots rather than why we might actually work out.
When we met under these new conditions, at first I wasn’t ready. Secondly, he wasn’t ready. After my arrival, we hugged and he went in immediately for the kiss. It caught me off guard, but I was pleasantly surprised. I called him my cocaine because I simply could not get enough of him and I was his heroine – the addiction was highly intoxicating.
It was the best of both world; an amazing guy who hadn’t let chivalry die and a best friend that I could be completely myself with. I wasn’t self conscious about my weight because he’d already accepted me for who I was and was more than willing to pass the cupcakes. I didn’t have to worry about always dressing nice; a pair of sweats and no bra was just as good as my sexy dresses because he already knew how I was.
And then there was the sex. Bombdotcom. I didn’t know he would put it down like that, but he surely underestimated me, too. However, because I’d loved this man for years, even if just as a friend, we fell into a perfect sync that I can’t put into words. He awakened a passion inside of me that I didn’t think existed. It wasn’t friends with benefits either, I actually don’t want to let this one go.
Everything I once felt for him began to change. And there was never an awkward moment. That’s how I knew it was for real.
So for my men in the friend zone, don’t lose heart. There is hope. It may be timing, it may be some hard lessons that have yet to be learned. But don’t give up. All that foot work will be worth it one day.
For my ladies, ask yourself this: of all the guys you gave a chance who CLEARLY weren’t worth your time, why not give that one guy friend a chance? But make some rules that you won’t let it ruin your friendship and always always respect the friendship over the relationship. You never know. You might be sitting on a diamond disguised as mere coal.
Broken people rarely know that they are broken. They’ve spent so much time functioning at half capacity that it feels familiar.
What whole people see as love is obscure to broken people. The fragmented pieces seek immediate gratification; anything that takes longer poses a threat to their false sense of security.
That’s why broken people gravitate to self sabotaging activities such as promiscuous sex. Sex gives immediate pleasure; even if temporarily. The high masks the cracks that their souls slip through. The warmth, the intensity and passion encompasses the metaphor of love. If only fleeting.
When I find myself longing for that false sense of security I know my cracks must be exposed. Sex is the cheap plaster I use to cover up the ugliness of my brokenness.
Reveling in the actuality that there is a man who can love me back together makes me laugh. It’s not even a wishful thought. I think I may be too far broken to be salvaged. So I treat myself as cheap and lie with wolves.
How do you love a broken person? One piece at a time. But just know you cannot be their glue; that is too much responsibility. If you ever let them down; even minimally, can send them back into their self-protective shell.
Brokenness can hinder passion greatly but isn’t a death sentence. Since love is patient and kind, showing that to a loved one exhibiting broken behavior will eventually help restore them back to completeness through your faithfulness and loyalty.