“Why does he treat me this way?”
“I allow him to.”
True story. When you reach this epiphany and you realize that you allowed it to happen you begin to see life change for you. You take ownership of what went wrong in the relationship. You take stock over what you could have done different. You stop passing blame and you start questioning yourself. What could I have done different? Why didn’t I speak up? What was I afraid of? Do I truly love him? Why am I settling? When was the last time I said no? Never?
It’s not rocket science its human nature. We are so eager to be wanted and loved we easily overlook the bad to have someone in our lives. We stay so hungry for acceptance that we don’t see the damage someone else is causing to us.
I know you’ve heard it before and this definitely isn’t something new to you but I want you to give serious thought in learning to love yourself. You owe it to you to love every inch about you. Even those thunder thighs that haven’t seen the sun. Those bags under your eyes that you slap a ton of make up on. Every little wrinkle, every roll, mole, and pinky toe. Love all of it! If there are little things or big things you want to see different, love yourself enough to make those changes. You want to drop a few pounds? Find time to exercise and eat better. Change your hairstyle? Do it. Get a make over or just simply treat yourself to one of your favorite things in life like ice cream. Make it a double scoop when you do and put aside the guilt. You are deserving of a little spoiling. Besides, if you don’t love you who will?
“Do you love me?”
I’ve gone over this line in my head many times. And it still makes no sense to me how someone that you can feel so connected to say such a word to you. It’s one of those earth shattering moments when you hear it. I would rather them answer with a lie than say maybe. You can’t build a life on a maybe. You can’t move forward nor backward. It’s such a powerful little word that gives you hope yet destroys you all in the same whisper.
So I ask myself what have I done in the relationship to cause such a response and not the response I thought I deserved. A sweet response like “Yes I do love you!” What did I do or What did I not do to make you feel secure with loving me?
Honestly, I did nothing rather good or bad. Sometimes we are in different places in our lives than those whom we love and admire the most. Sometimes we think we know how they feel when the truth is they haven’t let go of something or someone else and have yet to move forward to love again. Sometimes it’s just as simple as knowing they may not know how to love. What are they scared of? Who knows maybe they think before they can truly give their heart they have to trust you. Maybe they don’t know all they need to know about you just yet. So what if it’s been a year or two since you’ve first met and done the happy dance. Have you considered that maybe just maybe they are just plain chicken shit and have been burned so many times that they have vowed to go to their grave never loving anyone else besides their mother?
I would like to believe my love is so strong and super powerful that I have the ability to make anyone fall in love with me. You know, cast a spell on them when I bat my eyelashes at them or give them a deep toe curling kiss that makes them return for more. But even I know I’m not that superhuman.
So maybe you do…maybe you don’t…maybe I just won’t ask next time. Its better to not know then to forever hear the word “maybe” echoing in my soul.
Five things to consider for online dating…
Photography by Olivia Gracey Photography
All rights reserved
Excerpt from the Book:
He snuck up behind her and whispered in her ear, “May I have this dance?”
She hesitated for a moment letting the chill finish its course down her spine. When it settled within her toes, she nervously smiled, knowing any opportunity to get near him again would just mean trouble for her. Trouble she welcomed when she turned around to look in his eyes. He asked me to dance she told herself like a schoolgirl with a crush on the most handsome guy on the beach. He took her by the hand and led her toward the middle of the wooden planked floor. It’s just a dance she reminded herself. Just a dance.
The dance floor was full, but she couldn’t have felt more alone with him. More at ease. More belonging in his arms. As he twirled her around and around they began tangling their feet, tripping upon one another’s toes and bellowing laughter at the clumsiness. Then the music slowed. He made it evident his dance with her was not over. He pulled her into him and began to lead. Nervously she felt a need to speak, “Congratulations, Sheila’s beautiful. She seems so perfect for you.” She wanted him to know she approved.
“She is beautiful all right,” he said watching her lips as they moved. “But you are perfect for me.”
Her heart sunk with sorrow. How she had longed to hear him say that. But it was a selfish thought. And a terrible thing for him to say to her, especially on his wedding day.
“Don’t say that!” she scolded him. She felt him pulling her closer closing the gap between them. His body now pressed tight up against hers was making her weak in her knees, hoping the glide of his feet leading their dance would keep her following along without falling. “Do you think we can ever get past this?” she questioned him looking over his shoulder at their spouses now chatting with one another. She was hoping they weren’t watching. Hoping they didn’t notice how tight he was holding her.
He hesitated for a moment. His hand firmly placed upon her lower back, as if to hold her captive, biting his lower lip replying, “Not sure.”
She sighed leaning her head upon his shoulder breathing upon his neck. His body was warm and soft in all the right places; masculine and strong in others. If he had just held her a little tighter, they could have shared the same heartbeat.
“Not sure if I’ll ever get over you, especially if you wear that dress around me again. So sexy,” he added.
She let out a squeal of laughter as his famous eyes twinkled in delight. She was blushing now and knew he was trying to embarrass her. She was covered head to toe in that dress. That’s why she wore it. She didn’t trust herself. And that he knew quite well. She laughed more as he twirled her around and soon the song came to an end. Their bodies danced back together and they found themselves ending it with a hug. He took a deep breath breathing in her scented hair whispering, “Thank you.”
“Thank you for what?”
“Dancing with me.”
She stared for a moment back into his eyes recapturing that moment in time many years ago when she would look deep into those big brown eyes and see clear to his soul. “I know you’ll be happy,” she whispered back with her hand upon his cheek. “Sheila will be perfect for you if you let her.”
With that statement he released her embrace and grabbed her hand off his cheek kissing the top of it. His breath on her fingers left her speechless. She pulled away slowly and exited the dance floor leaving him there alone.
I have a type. Yes, a type of guy that is that I’m widely attracted to and looking for. What is it you ask? Well, since you asked, he must be taller, muscular, with a baby face and a sweet smile. He must be smart, strong, athletic, nicely groomed, and good smelling. Yes, I love a man who smells intoxicating! He may be into sports, yoga, or just plain artistic. You know, musician or something. But he must like football and hanging around on my big overstuffed couch on occasions. He can’t be vain or superficial, and definitely no flirter unless of course he’s flirting with me, in that case, it is acceptable and very welcomed.
He would like to dance, maybe not be that good at it, but that’s okay too. I like the slow grooves so as long as he likes to get close on the dance floor, that’ll work. Is he a social drinker? I prefer him to be. I don’t like drinking alone and I love a good margarita or sangria on occasion. He must have a nice laugh, not a horse laugh, or an annoying laugh that doesn’t match his voice tone. Have you heard one of those? Hard not to notice. He must be kind, generous, practice good manners and practice the art of compassion. He mustn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, no momma’s boys, but a manly man. But not one that hunts. I’m drawing the line on this one. Sorry but not dealing with the whole Radley hunting type that loves hanging deer heads all over my house type of guy again.
Damn! Where did he come from? I was on a good roll thinking of my dream man and he pops into my head. Go away would you? I’m making good progress here and you’re screwing it all up! Now where was I? Oh yeah, I have a type. I like the type of man that will hold my hand without asking, be affectionate in public but not groping, but kiss me regardless of who’s watching. Yup, manners are must haves. No belching in my face, passing gas in my car, or gawking at another girl while I’m in his line of view. And if he flirts with the waitress, he better make sure she knows he means nothing by it. Be respectful, mindful of who he’s with, is all I ask.
I want a man who will text me or call me out of the blue just to say, ‘Hi beautiful’ what girl doesn’t like to start her morning off with that? Or an ‘I love you’ text for no reason at all. A man that will bring me chicken soup when I’m sick or make me red chili on a cold wintry day. One that likes me to meet all his friends and shows me off with a smile. Who doesn’t mind that I don’t drink a pissy beer and will make a special trip to the liquor store to buy just what I like to drink. One who will take sips of my girly fruity drinks and on occasion share a dinner plate with me. I’ve never been one to clean up my plate. For once, I would like to not carry home a doggy bag and order a dessert without guilt to share and smooch over. Yeah, that’s what I really want! That guy that loves a piece of chocolate and will share bites of rich desserts in between sweet kisses in a dark, table clothed, covered booth in a corner of a room. One that likes exploring my bare legs under the table. He must be open to new ideas and adventures, spontaneous and frisky, huggable soft, yet muscular. One who can pick me up at a moment’s notice and make me squeal with delight then carry me off to his bedroom and make sweet love to me.
Yeah, that’s my kind of guy; The Hero-Rambo-007- Gere deep voice like Connery Tigger type with the smooth moves of Jagger. You know the song. Don’t deny that your sock feet aren’t dancing!
Just so you know I refuse to admit he doesn’t exist on this planet. He’s out there somewhere I just know it. As I scroll page after page on this dating site, I see that I haven’t found him yet but I am diligent. I must find him. But even when I lower the age I’m looking for or increase the age, or increase the distance they are from me, he’s not here. How is that possible? I don’t think I’m asking for too much. I think a woman has a right to be picky. And notice I did not put a dollar sign on his head. I figured if he’s all those things, money would not be an issue. Besides, I make my own money. I can’t, however, make my own man. So it’s essential that I am picky. I have to be picky. It’s required to move into the next phase of my life. The phase I dread going into alone. The phase that I cried myself to sleep night after night knowing that it was inevitable. The dreadful no children phase.
“Please, dear Good Lord, don’t make me go it alone,” I mumble aloud still scrolling and clicking, exiting and then scrolling some more. “Please. Just don’t think I can do it,” I mumbled as I scrolled.
There was once a time in my life I thought I would be just fine alone and I craved my own space and quietness. I still on occasion crave that time, but it doesn’t come around often. Back when I was broken the mere thought of just someone talking to me and interrupting all my thoughts, was unwelcome. I needed those moments to myself to recapture, revisit, then regroup. My life was frozen for a while and it was necessary for it to be for me to want to heal back to a better me. You never know what the outcome will be when your heart has been destroyed. Broken isn’t easy and I sure never want to return there.
So back to the matter at hand, if I can find a man that meets my type of man, I figure I will have less of a chance to return to such a place. Does he exist? I ask myself that with every click. I dunno. But I can’t chance the fact that he doesn’t or gamble with fate that he would come knocking on my door. Perseverance, I say, perseverance. I scribble perseverance on a notepad in front of me adding the art of never giving up. I ripped it out and stuck it on my fridge just in case I forget or need a little extra strength in those moments when I feel my lowest of lows. I hate those. Those lonely nights followed by urges of a beastly man breathing down my neck and onto my thighs. Those nights are the worst. And if I have a glass of sangria or three on those nights, it only gets worse for me. The more I find I drink, the more lonely I get and the more desperate I seem, causing me to click ‘like’ on profiles I wouldn’t have otherwise.
One night I received an email from a gentleman twenty plus years older, not attractive, with no qualities that I preferred. He was really sweet though thanking me profusely for making him a favorite on my list of men. Oh my! I know I didn’t click on him! It had to have been an accident. But I didn’t want to hurt the poor guy’s feelings so after the third lengthy email he sent me, I responded with “Thank you.”
Yikes! What else could I have said? ‘Nothing’ would not have worked. This guy would have kept on till I hurt his feelings and I just couldn’t do that. That’s just mean. I know some guys have ulterior motives on these sites, but some guys were on there just like me, looking for someone to love them. And everyone is worthy of having someone to love. I truly believe there is a special someone out there for everyone. No one has to be alone unless they choose to right? I chose to once, I don’t choose to now. No, I’m at a point in my life where years are passing me by and I need the works of a good hearted man. I need the touch of his fingertips on my soft skin, his kisses on the bow of my neck, his breath on my breast. And if so pleases, I need to feel him next to me all the days of my life. But only if he’s my type.
Nothing like knowing you’re a hallmark card, on the edge of desperation, just wanting to be read by someone.
I am numb this morning. I was numb last night. I cried myself to sleep. I awoke still in tears. He walked away and left me standing. What was I supposed to do? Beg? I did that.
He told me when he met me his goal was to make me fall more in love with him each day, he accomplished that goal. What he didn't prepare me for was the day he would walk away. I never saw it coming. Yeah, I allowed him to bulldoze right into my heart, right into my psyche, and I allowed him to create memories with me that now I can't escape from. They are haunting me.
I never realized the impact he would have on me till now. It's kind of like a miscarriage. You see the heart beat and you make plans for your life together. Then it dies. That's how it feels. Like a death to me.
I didn't ask him to love me. I didn't ask him to make me feel like I meant something to him. I didn't ask him to barge into my life then destroy me. I was cautious...I was guarded...I was fooled.
A year ago today I wrote this poem. Funny. I wasn't even in the same place then. It was just a thought in my head and maybe I wrote it for someone else, but how ironic is it that one year later it applies to me. Wow! I know I'm worthy of an unbroken heart. One day it will be so. Today, however, is not that day.
THE SAME FOREVER
Broken, shattered pieces of your heart
lying on the floor before you.
Swept now into the corner of the room
hoping they would go away, leave you.
But they stare accusing you of something you didn’t do
or perhaps maybe, did you?
You curse, you smirk, you cry, you fight
to hide the hurt deep inside.
But nothing, no nothing will erase the pain
no laughter, no kindness, no words just blindness.
The night falls you lay your head
the tears flow like rivers draught.
You wonder sucking in your breath
why you care when he’s not.
The wee hours you find yourself awake
not without shame, not without blame.
The morning sun arises with clarity
has it a reason to express sincerity?
The pile sits smiling bright
with every ray of morning light.
You curse, you smirk, you scream, you fight
to sweep it away, out of sight.
You tell it, “’tis my season of sadness, my time spent without your gladness.
I am not to blame, however, for he could never love me the same… forever.”
May 11, 2015
He slid in next to me on the couch and adjusted his body right up against mine. He was warm and inviting, just like the fire that was blazing before us heating up the room. His face was glowing, so was mine. I watched his lips as he told me his name over again.
“It’s what?” I smiled.
I just wanted to watch his lips move again.
Maybe the wine was intoxicating too, sending my better judgment out the window and down the long paved driveway along with the cabbie, but I didn’t care. There was nowhere on earth I’d rather be than right there in that gentleman's arms.
His right hand pulled my red locks away from my face and cupped them behind my ear. Then his left hand did the same till he was in full view of my face. He stared quietly, studying it as if to discover something great.
“It’s just a face,” I said nervously. “Nothing spectacular.”
“Beautiful,” he said, leaning closer with my face cupped in his hands. “Perfectly beautiful.” His breath bounced off my lips. “My princess.”
Where was I again? Oh yeah, I was in the arms of a very handsome prince, in a castle on the top of a hill, overlooking the city of New York. And what was that he called me again? His princess?
“This is the house. We were good together here,” he whispered with her face in his hands kissing her forehead now, feeling ashamed for causing her so much heartache over the years. Her rain soaked body was leaning against a wall now as he continued on with his convincing. “This house is where I promised to love you first, remember? Do you remember the things I said to you that night, Alice?”
“This house? You mean this is THE house?”
She remembered everything all too well that night. She had played that scene over and over in her mind like a worn out movie. The look on his face said he remembered everything, too, and he hadn’t let go of those thoughts, either.
“Yes, I do remember. I remember everything. But that was so long ago. We were so young,” she argued.
“We were so beautiful together. We belonged together then. We belong together now. Nothing has changed between us, Baby.”
She was now captivated by the thoughts of reliving the scene in the old house. She looked around remembering the window they climbed through to escape the storm that day. She felt the rush of excitement again like she did when they were together here. Her umbrella dropped to the floor without notice.
“Everything, Alice, I remember everything. And I want everything again!” he repeated. “It’s not too late. I meant every word I said that night. I have never forgotten what I promised you. Let me keep my promises to you. Let me show you I can give you everything. Let me be the one to love you forever. Not Nigel,” he added softly.
“But how is that possible?” she asked worried. Her tears had stopped flowing as her heartbeat settled next to his. The pit of her stomach began dancing with butterflies at the promise of it all. She had longed to hear him say those words to her. In her dreams she always ended up in his arms. Oh how she wished what he was saying to her was true this time. Could it be possible? Could they be together after all?
“Give me a chance to show you how.”
He pressed his lips on hers softly this time, staring into her beautiful glassy blues, trying to make her understand his need for her. His hands began caressing her as he saw she understood. He lifted her wet shirt up and gently started kissing her beautiful breasts causing them to perk and tingle at the touch of his tongue. A feeling she hadn’t felt with her newly improved breast. What a glorious feeling it was shooting waves of delight through her.
“How?” she whispered running her fingers through his warm wet hair as his deep breath tickled her chest.
“By giving me a part of you,” he said as his passion for her rose and he moved lower succumbing to his knees, kneeling in front of her now. He continued on, “By loving me and letting me love you.” He began kissing her flat youthful stomach speaking of his desires for her and reminding her of all those promises he made to her that rainy day. “We are going to do this for us.” She melted into the wall at the touch of his hands now and the feel of his lips were strong, and oh so heavenly. She trembled when he untied her wet wrap skirt with his calloused fingers and began kissing her thighs. He was so eager to please her. No man had ever wanted her like he wanted her. “It won’t be easy, Baby, but it will be worth it. I promise.” He made no mistake making that clear and understood.
It felt too good to not allow him to make good on his promises. She was having a hard time justifying the guilt now for loving him. Oh how she did remember this old house. Those memories taunted her, begging for more of them in her heart. She should let him continue, but would it be wrong? Could it be wrong knowing everything she knew now? Knowing how he felt about her and how he had always felt. The years had not changed the love he had for her nor the love she had for him. Their families and their spousal situations didn’t taint that love either. The bond between them was strong and more powerful than they were allowing themselves to admit.
“But, Rog are you sure this is what you want?” she interrupted him, lifting his head to look down at him.
“More than anything. We will be happy, Baby,” he whispered gently with his face in her hands, “that’s all that matters. We will be together.” His sweet lips were so convincing. “Let me make love to you,” he continued on, “Alice, we need to do this. Baby we won’t be sorry. We belong together.” He sounded compelling, but was being careful not to force himself upon her this time.
“Why?” she whispered back loving the way he said her name when he’s passionate. “Why now?” As he stared back into her eyes one last time she knew why.
Fifteen years had passed them by. Fifteen years had built up an obsession of love between them. It was fifteen years of staring, wanting, and imagining this moment again. Their feelings for each other were still as strong. Fifteen years since the day she lost her precious virginity to him, and she had never regretted loving him that day. They came close to this moment before, but fate interrupted and he couldn’t let it happen again. This was an opportunity to show her how he felt. Show her what they were missing. He couldn’t deny the way he felt about her. He couldn’t stop himself from loving her. She had to understand and know it.
For a brief moment his eyes said it all kneeling before her then returning to his loving massage, becoming more intense with his loving hands as he moved her thighs further apart making way for him. She whispered breathlessly now leaning back into the wall closing her eyes savoring the moment, “What will we do about...”
He interrupted her thought, “Alice, if we don’t do this we’ll never know.” He knew he had her now. Her voice was cracking, she was no longer crying, and she was pressing herself against him with the feel of his touch.
“Never know what?” she stammered barely getting out the question before her intense breathing took over needing more from him. A delightful chill ran through her legs exciting her to the point of no return. He continued on with his raspy voice renewing all his promises of so long ago. He swiftly moved back up her body to meet her lips, making sure she was in agreement.
“What if,” he answered her as he pulled away grabbing her by the hand and leading her half naked body up the stairs into the room they once had lain.
Happy now, he knew he had won.