Through the glass she looked


She was the innocent child thrown out to the wolves and learnt to crave his knife to lead the pack instead. Adventure was her snowflake that beckoned her to come out and play. Through the looking glass at the end of the tunnel she stood; taking her breath away was the last thing on his mind. She was never his or her own. She belonged to something far too unknown. She detested recycled stories of boy-meets-girl. Yet, she got entangled in his dream catcher and all she could do was stare. Weak men ran away from her cause they lacked the strength to fix the broken. He was a fixer and knew exactly how many and where the stitches go!

Advertisements

Failure to recognise a golden heart

I know you have tried and that you have been hurt. I know that feeling inside you wanting to give it another shot but at the same time, wondering if it is worth it. You start to think he does not care enough about you because if he does, he would have said something by now. He would have put in the effort and made it undeniably obvious that he wanted you despite what happened. You would have received that text or call you have been waiting for as you endlessly check your phone.

In silence, you realize that you want this to work with everything that’s within you. You want to love him and all that you ever ask in return, is for him to take care of your heart. Yet somehow, when you start to love someone so much, they see it in the way you act and the way you look at them. They know. They start to think you will never leave followed by a string of actions that suggest he is taking your love for granted.

At first, you make excuses for his actions because you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. After several occasions, you realize that you have made too much compromises and have been let down way too many times for you to count. You find yourselves stuck between trying harder or letting it all go because you will hurt either way. You struggle all night to decide between following your heart or following your mind.

Then you picked up the phone and dialed his number at 4am because you can’t take it no more. You need to know what he is thinking. You want to know if he is just as restless as you are. And then it happened, he picked it up but there is something different about the way he speaks it was half-hearted. You hung up, tired and broken. You’re thinking to yourself “Is loving someone supposed to be this difficult?”

As the sun rises, you eventually come to a painful realization that he is taking your love for granted. Yet, with your broken heart, you text him for closure. You choose yourself over love because you know you have given it your all. You choose yourself over love because you loved with all of your heart. You choose yourself over love because you know you did everything you could have done to make it work.

Your phone rings. You look down to a preview of regretful messages but they are a little too late. Your heart is broken. You choose yourself over love because you know your golden heart is too precious to be wasted on someone who fails to see it.

Play it cool, independent girls don’t love

The feelings rush into your heart as fast as gasoline setting on fire. It has been too long since you’ve felt this way and it burns deep. You try to play it cool as much as possible, but you’re the type to wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s inevitable – the wants, the needs, the desires.

Everyone tells you to let him come to you. At this age though, why is that still a thing? You’re over the games, you’ve dealt with being alone and you’ve experienced love followed by heartbreak. You know what you want and that shouldn’t be your fault.

The days you’re together are magical, and the nights those lead into are a fairytale. You start getting to know everything about each other. Staying up until 4 am asking and answering every question imaginable becomes routine. He gives no indication you’re moving to fast, no sign of turning back, no thought of wanting to slow down.

Then there come the nights he wants nothing to do with you. You’ve discussed the whole communicating thing and expressing feelings. You’ve had endless talks about your sensitivity and your neediness. At the time, he believes “it’s cute”, “it’s endearing”, but in reality, its pushing him away-until he’s gone.

Feelings of insecurity and hopelessness surround your brain. Second guessing yourself becomes a daily activity. Why isn’t he inviting me out with his friends? Why doesn’t he want to constantly spend time with me? Why doesn’t he try to go above and beyond? You’re used to being the pursued not the one pursuing and it’s killing you.

How is it fair that because feelings overwhelm your brain and because you acknowledge them, you’re in the wrong? I want a love that is pure and magical but apparently that is too much to handle.

I’m an independent woman. I am strong, I am smart, I am outgoing but all of that combined with knowing what I want, is against society’s norms. I am not allowed to express how I feel, I am crazy if I am too interested in someone, I am needy if I want to see the person I like multiple times a week.

I can’t control it though. I deserve a person that doesn’t just “handle” me but truly wants me. I deserve to not only feel happiness from myself but also from my partner. While some might think that’s too much to ask, it shouldn’t be.

The Hopeless Romantics of the Old Soul

Is there ever a point in our lives where we should give up on love? Where we should throw in the towel and just be content with not finding another person to let into our hearts? I don’t think so. I don’t think that we should ever look at life and think that love will never find us. But this is all coming from a hopeless romantic. Hopeless mostly. And being a hopeless romantic in the modern age has taught me a lot of lessons all about love.

1. Prince Charming might ride the bus instead of a white horse.

Does what we drive or what we wear or what we do really matter at the end of the day? Why do we set impossible high standards on what we’re looking for in another person so that it makes it so that when we do find someone, they have to meet a criteria list that literally not many people can? When you find someone who makes you happy, the details really are just the details.

2. Sometimes the person you love doesn’t magically realize they love you too.

Sometimes we fall for people who don’t feel the same way. Does that mean that in some way we’ve failed either physically or personality wise? No. Not at all. I have found that sometimes falling for the wrong person can teach us what we want from the right person.

3. You have to kiss a lot of frogs.

Or maybe you didn’t have too and are just lucky. Sometimes though, it takes a long time till you find the one person you want to settle down and have a house full of puppies with. Just because it’s taking a long time to find the one though doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with you. It just means that they’re taking their sweet ass time to get to you.

4. Nothing good comes without struggle.

Even when you meet the right person, that doesn’t mean you ride off into the sunset and that’s it. You just get to live your life with your love without any sort of issues. Nope. No way. Whoever said love isn’t work is extremely stupid. Love is another full time job on top of your already full time job. Even though it’s work, it’s the most fulfilling job in the world if you find the right partner to do it with.

5. Sparks fade but laughs don’t.

You know that fuzzy feeling in your tummy you get when that new person you’re into texts you? Yeah that fades. It just has too. It deepens into something more than just butterflies. So if you’re the type of person who lives for sparks, I’m sorry to tell you that it’s not real. Find someone you can be incredibly silly with. Find the person who you stay up all night with laughing. That’s the person you should want to end up with. Not the one with instant sparks.

6. Never settle.

My last and probably the most important point. Never settle. For anything or anyone. Resentment isn’t something you want to feel later on in life. You want to look at the person you’ve ended up with and see what you saw in them the first time you met. Fall in love with the person for everything that they are and everything they add to your life. Never let someone make you feel like you can’t do better because if that person is not making you feel your absolute best, I promise you can find better.

Your happily ever after might not have a sunset or royalty but it will match whatever reality you’ve created. From one hopeless romantic to another, falling in love isn’t always sunshine and rainbows but it is worth diving into. No matter what happens at the end of the day, love will always be the best feeling.

Something borrowed from the hopelessly romantic soul – Alexandria Brown

I’m in a relationship with the Whatsapp guy

I like you. I really like you.

You are what I usually look for when I think about things I want a man to be. You are tall, dark, handsome and charming just like the fairy tales say! You laugh and crack a funny joke when I say this because you have an intellect that can hold a decent conversation. You are a fitness freak and play sports to keep up your passion. You are ambitious, hardworking and someone every girl craves to be with. You said so yourself!

I wait to get your texts or the random selfie you send me through the day. (In which, you look hot af I must admit!) I know you sleep early so I try to get as much conversation with you as I can through the day. You wear braces and have an awkward demeanour when it comes to first impressions. I get that. Wow! I haven’t complimented a man in sometime and in so many words. So, I know I really like you.

I also feel the butterflies, you know the ones that my stomach created a grave yard for and I never imagined another set of species would survive there again but you did this to my stomach. It now hosts a various range and is now what I call a Butterfly Park!

What is this? I mean what are we doing here? I don’t know if our “relationship” will ever extend from the Whatsapp and iMessages to a phone call or FaceTime. Or if you are just talking to me in the hope of sleeping with me someday soon. And you know what? I am not so sure I would be able to resist the temptation.

We may have that phone call to have a really drunk date and make out session. Or maybe our first date will make you run for the mountains. You might meet me again or maybe we’ll meet once more at the bar and then awkwardly make up an excuse for work the next day. My desperate attempts to talk to you must give out different vibes. Maybe we’ll fall for each other or maybe we’ll fall back into the title of complete strangers when I see you next on Tinder and swipe left. I’m really not sure what you’ll be to me and what I can be to you.

I’m exhausted with just lusting for a man. I know you have those shoulder blades that I want to dig my teeth into. I knew it with every selfie I saw! It’s finally nice to talk to someone I know I might feel the sex with. I have concluded that we will have sex.

I know we aren’t each other’s firsts, and we probably won’t be each other’s lasts. We’ve already experienced our first kiss, first love, first heartbreak, first everything. You’ve probably slept with a handful of women, and I myself have done the same with men. You aren’t my first love, and there have been other guys before you that have changed the way I view ‘a relationship’. My emotions aren’t as innocent and raw as they once were. Life has changed me and it has changed how I am going to look at you.

I have a ‘whatever’ relationship stance with you right now. It’s not yet a crush, infatuation, fling, one-night stand or even a date yet. You are another guy on my address book who I think something might come out of it. I’m not naive and I’m not going to expect that anything will come of this until something does actually come of it. But to begin with, can I expect a phone call?

It’s been close to a month since we’ve begun texting which translates into speaking for the 21st century dating culture and I’m not going to put a label on this.

Dating has evolved into one giant twisted and fucked up game, and we all willingly play along. With the numerous Tinder, Grindr, Aisle, Truly Madly, Flo and Mingle apps it is a complicated game and I hesitate even before I get in.

If I like you, I’m going to tell you. But, don’t flatter yourself just yet, that doesn’t always mean I’m looking to be your girlfriend. Nor does it mean I’m quick to jump in and be your fuck buddy either. I’m not expecting a grandiose proposal or flowers at my doorstep.  It doesn’t mean I’m head over heels for you or you’re the person I want to have my babies with. So relax. I like the kind of person you are and I’d like to be around you more to know how that would feel. That’s all.

You can call me “crazy” for developing feelings, but I could say the same to you for being petrified of a relationship that was never even established in the first place. You aren’t looking for a commitment, but when did I say I was?

You aren’t my first guy. And you might not be last. Don’t string me along for your own entertainment but also don’t assume I’m looking for a committed relationship until I tell you that I am. Our “whatever” break up might sting for a little bit, but you won’t break me. Life moves on, and so will I.

I think deep. I think a lot. I imagine every single positive or negative scenario there is to us before I can make up my mind about what this status actually means. Like many I’ve been told by, I am stupid and insane to overthink. But this is me!

I know you don’t read so you finding this page is nearly impossible. But, even if you did, I hope it’s month later after the phone call, our first kiss, our first everything that you read to know that for once I went with the flow. Or maybe you will read when you find me again on Tinder and are wondering why we became strangers on a fateful day and my last seen was at 3:57AM when I wrote about the pain in my heart. I haven’t felt this crushing pain in months and years even. You sound like my next painful disaster.

I’m worried. Yet, I am drawn to you like I have opened up a secret sky full of stars, that I want to lie down next to you and watch. While I play with the cold neck chain hanging down on your shoulder and you caress my hair to kiss my neck. I’m jealous of this girl I’m imagining here. She is right there next to you.

And here I am sitting 18 KMS away from you, hoping you are sitting in the cubicle of your office just thinking of what it is like to be with this girl I’m texting and making mental notes of a blog you haven’t written.

When saying you ‘love’ someone means more…

I love you. And not a day goes by that I don’t tell you.

But the silent poetry that throbs in my chest cannot be uttered in three little words—or 3,000 for that matter. Whenever I try to describe the way I feel for you, every word seems trite and hollow; the whole English language insufficient.

Maybe if I write it, raw and uncut. If I pour myself out, and breathe passion fire into these words and make them live, they might come into your heart and dance. Maybe when you read this it will take you there—to where the wild drums are beating, where pain and bliss both run together, where lovers die into each other, and are born again…

I want you to know this feel this.

When I say “I love you,” what I really mean is that I want you. From the very first time you ran your fingers through my hair, I have longed for you—for your touch, your embrace, your taste on my lips.

You turn me on. It’s undeniable. It’s chemical. It’s electric.

When I say “I love you,” I really mean that you’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous in your heels and gowns and all your glittering finery, and even more so in your pajamas and blue jeans. When you’re not even trying, when you let go and just be carelessly, naturally you, it takes my breath away—like a sunset reflected in still water, or a starry night so clear you can see the Milky Way poured out across the sky.

When I say “I love you,” I mean that I love your form, your body, your arc and elegance. I love the curve of your neck, your breasts, your back and your hips. You embody pure woman from the curls in your hair down to your ankles and toes. Like no one else can, you awaken the man in me, the beast in me, the passion and hunger and lust.

I love how you move, your effortless grace. I love how you walk, your rhythm and sway. I love how you dance. I love how we fuck­—how we breathe and thrust and grind as one. One pulse, one pleasure, one ecstatic culmination; a prayer, a holy communion.

When I say “I love you,” I mean all of you, just as you are. I love your silliness and your playfulness, how easily we can laugh at ourselves and at life. I love your courage, your strength. I love your jealousy and insecurity. I love your (sometimes painful) honesty. I love how you really walk your talk and take responsibility for your own “stuff.” I love your willingness to face your fears and grow.

I love who you are, deep down—the timeless innocence I see in your eyes. Underneath everything you say and do I see a pure and selfless intent, a kind and compassionate soul.

When I say “I love you,” I mean I trust you. I respect you. I admire you. I adore you.

When I say “I love you,” I mean that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for every time I take you for granted. I’m sorry for every time I’m too busy, too distant, too self-absorbed to make time for you. I’m sorry for every time I fall short of being the man you deserve.

When I say “I love you,” I mean that I love this dance of loving each other. I love how it constantly calls me to go deeper, to walk my talk, to own my shit, to face my fears and grow. I love sharing life with you—the triumphs and the failures, the laughter and the painful silence.

When I say “I love you,” I mean my life is better with you in it. I’m a better man because of you. And the more I come to know you, the more I want to know. I miss you when you’re not around. I’m grateful for every moment we’re together.

When I say “I love you,” I mean I want to be the one you turn to when you’re hurting. I want to be the one who listens. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to take care of you. I want to give you something to stand on in this crazy, constantly changing world.

I want to make a home and a family with you. I want you to be my partner, my lover, my Radhe—the yin to my yang. I want to wake up next to you in the morning. I want you beside me when I close my eyes at night. In a universe of infinite possibilities, on a planet of seven billion human beings, I want you.

Baby, the next time I grab you as you’re passing by, put my arms around your waist and pull you close, kiss your sweet lips, look deep into your eyes and say “I love you,” this is what I really mean:

Here I am—body and soul, sinner and saint, warrior and fool, all of my love and all of my baggage—all of me. Here I am, with open arms.

I see you—mother, daughter, sister, lover, the light and the darkness, the goddess and the scared little girl—all of you. I want you, all of you, you and only you, just as you are.

I have a place here in my heart for you.

Something so beautiful can sometimes only be said when you have some words as “something borrowed”.

What it is like to be guarded…

There’s a reason why my walls are built so high, and there’s a reason it will take you longer than expected to bring them down. There’s a reason why I’m guarded.

I’m guarded because I’ve been hurt before. We all have. My weakness is that I carry the pain with me as a constant reminder that it could happen again. And while this is such a cautious way to walk through life, while instead I could be wildly sprinting, the wild sprint has made me fall and trip before, and the scrapes and burns were painful. So painful that it takes a while to try and run that fast again. So I walk, and I walk carefully noticing my surroundings because I worry if I were to ever fall that hard again, I might not be able to get back up.

I’m guarded because I’m scared of what you’ll think, but not scared enough to admit it. I fear your disapproval like a little girl fears the monster under her bed, and right now I will just keep quiet to avoid any disturbance. I’m guarded because no one has ever protected me as well as I protect myself. My own armor has been stronger than yours, or his, or hers, and it will continue to be until someone shows me otherwise.

I’m guarded because I’m no stranger to failure, and while it has made me stronger, it has also made me more aware of how all of it can go wrong. I’m guarded because I’ve mistakenly invested my trust in those who took it for granted, and because of their disregard, I no longer hand out trust so easily.

I’m guarded because I see the damage coming before it even happens, and I know that the lucky ones will tell me how unreasonable, pessimistic, and sad this all sounds, but even when you try to tell yourself that this time is different, the reminder seeps back in. Life will bring hurt and pain, and people will disappoint you, but no one has the ability to break down your walls except for you. I’m guarded because I’ve chosen to be that way.

I think when you’re young, you’re hoping that this person will be the right one, the one you’re going to be in love with forever, but sometimes you want that so much you create something that really isn’t there. But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly he would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.

That is the way it is with a wound. The wound begins to close in on itself, to protect what is hurting so much. And once it is closed, you no longer see what is underneath, what started the pain. I have learned now that while those who speak about one’s miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more.