Simple. Love. Hope. Hold on.
Simple. Love. Hope. Hold on.
how I can be so cool with being single and not want anything, or not really be interested in dating. It’s not because I may not be ready, which I might not be, and I’m not really all that depressed (and I swear that I’m not kiddin’ myself, here) but it’s just because I’m not interested in it. I already took a look into that whole online pool/thingie and it’s A. some sot of advertising contest, B. shallow, C. people are too judgmental, and D. Just. Plain. Flippin’. Scary, as in, psycho killer scary. Believe me, I have had my experiences with it—I. Have. Been. Warned. Cree-py. Gives me the heepbie jeebies.
But back to what I really, really don’t understand: How I don’t want a relationship—don’t want anything—but I do.
If only there was somebody out there who I could meet—like how people do in foreign films—so random and kooky. And maybe we would just plain fall into a relationship/thingie, but it would be non-exclusive and we would have this agreement that we could both be with other people if that moment were to arise…
I do want monogomy, with a llittle bit of polyamory on the side—
Am I asking for too much.
Maybe I do belong on one of them sites…
Song on repeat.
but this is all that came about and it is not good enough for the cafe I read at, so I am placing it here—
She Made Me Miss You
fool what’d you get into don’t say
don’t say it she’s yours you protect
“…I agree with you when you say she needs time to grieve and move on. But she has told me on numerous occasions that she is moved on…”
“…I said some awful things to you. I’m not usually like that. But you hit a nerve. A few actually. And it all went crazy from there. We both said shitty stuff. But why do I feel that you and Chantel aren’t done? Can you answer that?…”
“…You and Chantel shared a relationship very different from the one I have started with her. But it seems that you and her shared a deep connection, on different levels. I hate that. I want that.”
You want that? Why do I want that? Only ‘cause you say
You want that. You want that? I want that. I want that and more. I want more than what she gave me. And she gave me that and more. She gave me more that I wanted. She gave me too less that what I needed.
Don’t talk to me like that. You’re hers now. She’s yours. That what you wanted? I struck away from ownership. I don’t want that type of relationship. It was me. It was her. It was us. I don’t. Want. Relationship. Get out from my skin—
“…You may be proud of this….but you have gotten under my skin and in my head. In a way that has made me reconsider everything relating to my relationship and love for Chantel…”
No, not proud. Just pissed. Still friggin’ pissed.
There are two. Two of you. Two of her. Two to be pissed
P.S. — Forgive the poor English. It was intentional, just so you know. Been listenin’ to country. Just got me in that kind of mood, ya know. Writers out there—Ever notice how much music can be an influence when you write?
: ) : ) : 0
Holy—That voice. Wow, just—Wow.
The very moment after she Eliza realizes that she is in love with Mr. Higgins.
After three years of feeling this way for a professor who returns the feelings, I still feel as if I could dance all night when I think of her.
But she is the type who would laugh at me for openly admitting how downright lame and icky I am with all this sappy shit.
God, I love her. Maybe I screwed it up again because of something that I have said. There were plenty of times where I intentionally tried to screw it up on purpose. Who wants to be in love with somebody who they cannot spend the rest of their lives with? Who wants to really be in love with someone of whom they could only have that forbidden/careless/time stamped relationship/affair with?
Especially if it is ‘the real deal’— True. Love.
Yes, it actually does exist.
And yeah, I know, I’m grossing out the crowd. I’ll shut up about it, I promise ; )
If only every night felt like this—
No lies here.
Peaceful. So peaceful. Ever have a bad night, stay up drinking and purging emotions and wake up the next day, have a fair day, good night and this just plain peace comes over you? Wish this could happen all the time. My mother would say that the brew was the cure. I’d say that it was the writing.
As some of the writing was somewhat mean/somewhat exaggerated, but I can say as I please, as my blog is no longer connected with any my good friends blogs. I hate to do that to them—have a secret blog under everyone’s nose… But it is much needed. Much needed.