Today you burst into
As if nothing
Had wilted away
Since the years passed
Since we last said
Have a good life
It took me that long
To say goodbye
To my heart
That tricked me
You were the one
The one who would
Make me whole again
It was an illusion
I watched the leaves fall
I shed inside
Hiding it from myself
Now you think
You can have
My heart again
To bend to your
If only it were
When the darkness
Threatened to take
My last breath
A living angel
Lifted me away
From my despair
Turn to me
I need you
His soul demanded
I woke from my slumber
I took his hand
We flew away
When he left me
He took my heart
This empty shell
That now exists
You can no longer
September 12, 1973 – November 30, 2013
Being Alone: Why Is It Taboo?
In recent times I’ve become increasingly aware of my solitude. I would probably not even notice that I’m doing something wrong were it not for men and women in my life saying things such as,
“You’re so good at doing things on your own [traveling, driving, attending festivals, etc.]. Aren’t you [afraid]?”
“Do you have a boyfriend yet?” (Didn’t you ask me this last month?)
“Who are you going with?” every single time I mention my plans for the weekend.
My favorite, by far, has been from the Canadian/US border patrol agent: “Do you often travel alone?” as he peered suspiciously at the back seat of my car.
I was tempted to respond, “Don’t you see my friend back there? He’s kind of shy.” I suppressed that urge, however, since I didn’t want to spend my time in border detention for being a smartass.
These random comments in the past few years have lead me to question, is being alone and single taboo in this day and age? It’s 2013. Women live on their own, support themselves, and choose how to live out their relationships. More surprising to me is that other women expect me to depend on another person for my happiness either momentarily or permanently. Seriously? I cherish certain people and their company. Yet I do not necessarily want to share my life moments with them all the time.
As someone who spent several years in a relationship, I know the ups and downs and the psychology of being with someone 24/7. My conclusion from it all: none of it is worth it unless both of you are in love with each other and are strong enough to work through the changes that eventually come with life. Strength is the key word. Most people don’t have it, I’ve come to realize. They are weak, they give in to temptations that hurt others, and they get complexes which make them humiliate and degrade the person they are supposed to love. Do I really want to have all that in my life again?
“Don’t give up. You’ll find someone eventually.”
I laugh inside whenever someone tells me this because, why do I have to search? Am I supposed to be constantly searching for the perfect love because that is the end goal for being a woman? For being a person, period? Am I less than a person because I am single and not part of a couple? Is it wrong? Did I miss out on something this past decade that being single now makes you a social pariah? Or are we still really just stuck in ancient traditional thinking that women are not whole without a man?
Outside of work and other obligations, I love my freedom to think, to feel, to do whatever I want at any time. When physically with another person, you tend to bend all that to conform and act as a mini-group. This interaction is great with friends, but you are not with friends 24/7. While I applaud all those happy in relationships, I only wish people would stop suggesting that I be in one in order to be happy. (Or maybe they sadistically want me to be in one so I can suffer.)
Don’t get me wrong. I still believe in true love. I believe I found it once because he affected me like no other man on Earth, and I saw the potential in a deep, meaningful, and cosmic relationship. I don’t think he feels the same. I’ll never know for sure. Therein lies the perfect excuse in being alone that will appease others: unrequited love.
Can’t you see I’m a mess without you?
I need to look into your eyes,
to feel your skin against mine,
to feel your breath on my lips.
Let me make you forget your pain,
forget your broken heart.
Let me be the one who makes you feel
that all is right in this world.
Let me save you, and I will save myself.
Cupid is sometimes a really bad shot, his arrow piercing only one of the two hearts that meet. He either needs to practice more or maybe it’s his cruel intention all along to make one suffer as the other escapes, oblivious to the destiny he had just changed. After all, no one ever said Cupid was an angel.
That is my destiny it seems: the one with the pierced heart, forever suffering from unrequited love. After a period the thought of one man should bring nothing more than “Can I still spell his name correctly?”
Instead, thoughts of him twisting my heart with his words haunt me, driving me mad knowing no one else has that effect on me. In quiet echoes I hear his heartbeat, steady and in sync with mine. It is improbable, I tell myself, that he is also thinking of me at this moment. There are way too many moments that should never be and yet is, stretching to years.
How could Cupid be so heartless? The poison of his arrow should have lasted only days if it did not hit both marks. He might as well have made it a death arrow, for my love goes unresolved, unsatisfied, and unobserved. It is too much work constantly reminding myself of all the things wrong with the man I love and how he is wrong for me. My logic is no power against the wound that still bleeds my life away.
Alas, no matter how hard I try the poison remains. The life of my heart resides in him, and he is unaware. No man has ever affected me in greater depth than he and continues to do so even without his presence. He is and forever shall be my greatest love. Such is the destiny of Cupid’s missed arrow.
Punish Me with Your Eyes
He stared at me with his piercing eyes, daring me to lie.
Softly, I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what it meant to you. That mistake will never happen again. Punish me as you will.” My eyes blurred with unshed tears as I heard him let out a deep sigh.
He took my hand and pulled me down to him. His lips barely brushed mine as he said, “I will have forever to punish you. You are mine.”
I always wonder why women destroy flowers in an effort to get some confirmation that their loved one actually does or doesn’t love her. Does it really matter? Was it worth destroying a precious flower for a sort of destiny foretold? The answer should always be no, he doesn’t love you. Then you will look at the flower in its deathly misery and wonder why you put so much faith in a scatter of petals.
“There is no peace for us, only misery.”
“You can’t ask ‘why’ about love.”
Love is full of misery, full of hopelessness – if it is left unsatisfied. Forsake everything for love? Absolutely, Anna Karenina style – except the end part, of course.
The latest version of the film, Anna Karenina stars Keira Knightley, Aaron Johnson, and Jude Law. Release date: November 16, 2012.
“I’m sorry,” he said with those ethereal eyes, his lips curling at the corners, amused at my agitation.
I didn’t like it when a man was right about my feelings.
“I would do anything for you, love – even lay down in this stream so you may crawl across without getting wet.”
It was my turn to smile. I bent down and lay atop him. I didn’t care if I got wet.
You’ve Spoiled Me
I am spoiled for anyone but you
You showed me a love so intense
So encompassing of everything I dreamed of
Now it’s far away, so very far away
No one stirs the fire you ignited in me
No passion left to share
I’m an empty shell without you
A body with no soul
With you my world felt right
You were my guiding light in the darkness
My heat in the cold light of day
You understood me without a word
Your eyes told me what I felt inside
Your touch electrified me
Inciting emotions never before awakened
Through you I found myself
I miss you, I miss me.
She leaned against his grave, broken and weak. Her heart heavy, she closed her eyes and remembered him.
His sweet breath blew upon her cheek, his lips caressing hers. He ran his fingers through her hair slowly, tracing his lips to her neck. Her breath escaped, and he kissed her softly.
“My love for you is eternal. I will always be with you.” His voice warmed her heart.
She moved closer in his arms, and he held her tight.
“Let me go with you. I am lost without you.” He wiped away her tears and smiled.
“Soon. You’re needed here a little while longer.”
She felt a tug deep within her and she gasped for air. Her eyes opened, and he was gone.
I left him there that morning, half asleep, half in shock of what we had done the night before.
He had kissed my neck as I turned and said to him, “No, I’m done with you.” I moved away, his hands caressing down my arm to entrap my hand.
“Don’t leave me this way,” he said with a heavy roughness in his voice. “All I need is you.”
I kissed him softly and bit his lower lip. “Goodbye, sweetcheeks.”
Would you ever love me enough to kiss me passionately in the pouring rain?
I used to think that true love didn’t happen unless two people simultaneously came together in a cosmic emotional collision. It couldn’t be considered “true” unless both fell in love with each other at the same time, and it had to be “electric” in nature. Lately I have rethought that idea, coming to the conclusion that only one person is needed for true love to happen.
I found true love, for he exists in this world, and no one else can or will replace what he makes me think and feel. Whether or not he feels the same way, I have not confirmed it, for I may never physically see him again. It is easier for me to think that he never thinks about me or considers me anything more than what it was – a passing fling.
A long period of time has passed, and yet almost everyday I think of him. I have done my utmost best to forget him and cleanse him from my system, taking on boyfriends and temporary affairs. No one “electrifies me” like he does. Nothing has worked. Remaining busy has not kept my thoughts from straying to visualize him in my head at odd moments, times when my brain seems to “breathe.”
Thus, I have resigned myself to the idea that he is The One, the absolute one. I will let him invade my being at anytime without second thought. His photo will stay as my cellphone wallpaper and I will tell people he is just a model I downloaded from the internet. No one will know I have tasted those lips and lost myself in his eyes.
What She Says or Thinks / What He Says or Thinks
When I’m with him he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
When she’s with me I get so hard and horny nothing else matters.
Sex is so beautiful and a transcendental experience between us.
Sex is awesome and she does this thing with her ….
I think I’m in love with him.
I think I could keep her as a regular.
I can imagine growing old with him.
I can imagine her old and I’m a little scared.
When I’m not with him I miss him so much.
When I’m not with her I think of going skiing.
My sex dreams are filled with him.
My sex dreams are filled with her and a few other women.
I would do anything for him; he’s my one true love.
I would do anything for her unless I have to move out of state.
No one is sexier than he is when he’s with me.
No one is sexier than she is when she’s with me except when someone hotter gets in my line of sight.
I want to bear his children.
Who’s talking about kids?
It’s Valentine’s Day; I hope we do something special and romantic.
Sticky note on bathroom mirror: “Buy her flowers and take her to dinner. Yes, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
Sometimes I don’t want to express in words what I want to do (to a certain individual) because visuals say it so much better.
Fight scene from the film Daredevil.