Two People

Two people

Complete opposites.

Two people

Man and woman

Or boy and girl?

So childlike in some ways that perhaps they needed each other

As most children do.

Two people

Lost

Blindly finding their way.

Two people

Who met

Who fell in love

Who destroyed that love

Each by their own destructive ways.

Two people

So different that perhaps they belonged together

Or who were so wrong for each other

They were bound to crash and burn.

Two people

Damaged, stubborn, fragile, lost, distrusting, isolated, independent, fearful, strong-willed, heartbroken, misunderstood

Passionate.

Two people

Who once loved and laughed and held hands

Made love

Made plans

Who were fiercely passionate and in love

Are now alone.

Two people

Will never be the same.

Just another sweet and touching picture I love.I adore animals... cats, dogs and pretty much all animals.

This……

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Can Men and Women Ever be “JUST” Friends?

When Harry Met Sally:

Harry: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally: Why not?
Harry: What I’m saying is – and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form – is that men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally: That’s not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
Harry: No you don’t.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: No you don’t.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: You only think you do.
Sally: You say I’m having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry: No, what I’m saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: How do you know?
Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So, you’re saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry: No. You pretty much want to nail ’em too.
Sally: What if THEY don’t want to have sex with YOU?
Harry: Doesn’t matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally: Well, I guess we’re not going to be friends then.
Harry: I guess not.
Sally: That’s too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.

I know many will disagree, but ask yourself this:

If you were drunk, would you sleep with your ‘friend’? Under any circumstances, would you ever have sex with your friend?

You know the answer is yes. You would have sex. And that makes a true friendship between men and women impossible.

Harry is 100% right. Men and women can never be JUST friends.

Before you start leaving 47 comments about how you disagree, consider this:

My last boyfriend of two years had a female ‘friend.’ Turns out he was fucking her for the entire time he was dating his previous girlfriend. Then he started dating me. At that time, I had no idea he was fucking his “friend.”

He tried convincing me over and over again that they were “just friends.” Then he went on an overnight trip with her. While we were dating.

A month later, he went on a longer trip with her. They stayed in the same hotel room. For five nights.

At the time, I loved him and I trusted him.

I wanted to believe him so badly that “nothing” happened between them.

But it turns out they were not ‘just friends’ and they never were.

We broke up 6 months ago and he immediately started seeing her and having sex with her again.

Last night was New Years Eve. I invited him over to have a nice dinner with my girls and I, in an attempt to make amends.

My daughters were so heartbroken when he moved out, I thought I owed it to them to try one more time.

Love means trying. Not giving up on someone, even when they’ve hurt you.

Love means second and sometimes even third chances.

So I invited him for NYE to mend a fractured relationship because a part of me still cares for him.

But he turned me down.

He chose to take his ‘friend’ on an overnight trip so they could ring in the New Year.

Together.

They have been ‘friends’ who have been sleeping together for 3 years.

Three years. Including last night. New Years Eve. The biggest night of the year.

Now try convincing me they are ‘just friends’.

Happy New Year.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2178297/What-Harry-told-Sally-right-Why-man-just-friends-woman–attraction-gets-way.html

From When Harry Met Sally. A very difficult movie to watch when you are going through heartbreak.

From When Harry Met Sally. A very difficult movie to watch when you are going through heartbreak.

Fall Leaves… What Comes Next?

We can’t change the past.

October. A cold and lonely month.

Memories of two October’s ago when everything felt hopeful, exciting and new.

As the sky gets grayer, I feel my heart sink lower.

I never asked for everything.

But looking back, when I had love in my life, I felt like I had it all.

I lost that love and now…. I feel lost, too.

And now as the months pass me by… and the summer leaves grow dry and crumble, I feel like a small part of me is crumbling, too.

* * *

But I’m so lucky. To have been blessed with optimism, and an open heart and the belief that hope is never lost.

So I’ll wake up each day, and try to find my smile and keep moving forward.

Looking forward. Trying to search for meaning.

And for love. Never giving up on what I might find.

And trying not to crush the leaves under my feet.

Sex, Porn, Love

Sex, Porn, Love

This is just like Eat, Pray, Love, with the exception that it’s absolutely nothing like that. Do I need to include a NSFW disclosure? Done. So my ex had a porn addiction. Collection. Whatever. Let me preface this by saying I … Continue reading

The Kiss

About a month ago she met me at work. She waited so that we could go to dinner afterwards.

We didn’t do anything fancy. Just a simple evening with great conversation.

That was my favorite thing about her. I could talk with her for hours on end and never tire of her voice.

After dinner, we went back to my office to pick up her car. We took my normal route home from work.

About half way to my office, we came to an intersection at Snowy Hollow Road and Route 169. I stopped at the sign and jumped out of my car. I ran back to her car. She looked very concerned and asked me, “What’s wrong?”

I replied “Absolutely nothing. Everything is perfect.” Then I kissed her.

I kissed her like it was the last thing I would ever do.

She looked surprised. Floored is a better description.

Later that evening, she told me that was the sweetest, most romantic thing any man had ever done for her.

She told me how much she loved me and asked me to make love to her.

How do you go from that moment- one month ago-  to this, being apart, without any explanation?

I would do anything to see that look in her eyes again.

To see how much she loved me. I would die for that feeling again.

Just one more time.

Anon.

* * *

How do you go from feeling like this person is your entire world, to….. nothing?

[This was written by a friend. I will add his name, only with his permission.]

Serendipity, Happenstance and Love

I discovered a new blog today called One Thousand Single Days. A young woman, now divorced with two young sons, who has committed to spending the next 1,000 days to being single.

An excerpt from her blog: 

“One thousand days of being single… No men, no dating, no flirting, no kisses, no romantic love, no valentines day, nothing.

I intend to use this time to address some of the issues I have… I am very stubborn… I have shockingly low self esteem, I get jealous, I can get really angry….
I want to learn to be whole.”

Her words touched me. How well I could relate.

http://onethousandsingledays.com/what-does-one-thousand-days-even-mean-2/

My blog is not nearly as well-laid out as hers is. And I barely have any followers. But those things do not matter to me.

My main focus is picking up the pieces of my broken life. And not just simply putting them back together again.

But creating a new picture.

I do not want to go back to the insecure little girl who grew up feeling ugly and different and misunderstood.

I want to create something new. A new life that fits the new me: the me who is alone again, who lost her job. The me who thought she’d found the love of her life, who has now since disappeared.

The me who has two beautiful, sweet little girls who make me realize that each day is a gift, and should never be taken for granted.

I do not have the luxury of being a 27 year old woman who can devote 1,000 days to being single.

Instead I want time and chance, or serendipity, to choose my fate for me.

Serendipity: A “happy accident” or “pleasant surprise”; specifically, the accident of finding something good or useful while not specifically searching for it.

There are no guarantees of tomorrow. Even those who have found love today, are not promised a forever.

The only thing we have control of, is how we view each opportunity presented to us. The man who says he will end up alone, is right. He will end up alone.

The woman who says she will find love again, is right. She will find love again.

The person who sees beauty in the ordinary, will also see the possibility of the future.

Things happen for a reason. That is something I will always believe.

Each experience leads us to a better understanding of ourselves, and presents a new opportunity for tomorrow.

You can’t fast forward to the next chapter of your life without first experiencing the now.

Puzzles are intricate and challenging. But piece by piece a beautiful picture begins to unfold.

It’s impossible to make some pieces fit. So toss them aside and make room for those that will. Something better.

Believe that all things- good and bad- happen for a reason.

* * *

A scene from Serendipity: a man and woman meet. Strangers, both engaged to marry others, who are immediately attracted to one another.

The woman, Sara, decides that if they were meant to be, destiny will bring them together again. Ether now or in the future. They know only a few pieces of information about each other, not including the other’s last name.

They scrawl their full names and telephone numbers on a $5 bill and a used book. Sara believes that if they are destined to be together, one of them will find either the book or five dollar bill by happenstance. But only IF they are meant to be together.  Without any contact information, they part ways.

Sara: You don’t have to understand. You just have to have faith.
Jonathan: Faith in what?
Sara: Destiny.

* * *

Last spring, my boyfriend planned a trip for us to Colorado. He put it on his credit card. A week later, I went to the bank and withdrew five one hundred dollar bills.

I was happy in love. I recall the five crisp $100 bills. As I sat at my desk one afternoon, I took a black Sharpie and in perfect handwriting I wrote “You” on one, “are” on another, “so” on the third, and finally “SEXY” on the fourth. On the fifth, I wrote his name, “Adam.” I embellished each one with red hearts. Silly, but sweet.

The next day, I gave him the five bills. He smiled and kissed me.

Right before our trip, I discovered that he was still on a dating website. I was devastated.

I told him I could no longer go on the trip with him and one morning before work, I stopped by his house. Without a word, he handed the five $100 bills back to me.

I was upset. Distressed. Beyond hurt.

Later that week, my daughters and I stopped at a Burger King drive-thru.

I reached into my purse and pulled out the folded $100 bills. I hesitated for a moment. Then without a second thought, I handed the teenage boy at the window the one marked “sexy.” It was emblazoned with big red hearts. My daughters, who rarely miss a trick, noticed it and started questioning me.

A minute later, the boy handed me back my change. We drove home.

One by one, I spent all of the $100 bills, saving the one marked “Adam” for last.

As I type, those five $100 bills are all floating around now.

* * *

I’m going to the bank. Maybe today.

I’m going to withdraw $100. Maybe three $20 bills, some tens and fives. Who knows? On a select few, I am going to write…. something. I’m not sure what yet.

Maybe some statement or word that perhaps trigger a memory that only he would know the meaning of.

Then I am going to spend them. All of them.

Not right away, but over the next few weeks or so. At the grocery store. At the mall… I’m not going to plan where. Just where ever.

Will he ever come across one of them again?

When he stops at Best Buy to pick up a new cell phone charger, will the clerk hand him one?

One night when he’s hungry and decides to stop at Taco Bell after work, will he receive one back in his change?

Or maybe some night, when he takes a new girl out on a date, he’ll pay for their drinks.  He’ll order a gin and tonic. Or maybe a beer.

No, he’ll definitely want to impress her, so he will order the gin. Or perhaps Scotch on the rocks.

The bartender will hand him his change back. He’ll mindlessly shove the bills into his pocket and go back to his date.

She is pretty. She has a nice smile. At that moment, she is all he will see.

The next day he’ll go about his day. Laundry day will come. Or maybe he’ll decide to wear those same jeans again.

He’ll pull them on. Later, he’ll reach into his pocket. And then. He will see it. On a five dollar bill. Or maybe on a ten.

My handwriting. My words. He’ll see me.

And he will……?

What? I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Or maybe… something.

Corny, I know. But more like close to impossible.

Or maybe not so impossible.

Whatever happens after that…. I choose to let fate decide.

Serendipity or not.

When Love Is (Or Isn’t) Enough

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  The story of a couple who meet, fall in love and break up.

Their break up is so painful they both decide to undergo a procedure that erases all memory of their relationship.

After their memories are erased they become strangers and go their separate ways.

But they meet a second time and are instantly attracted to each other, as if meeting for the first time.

The movie ends there, suggesting they fall in love all over again, despite their past.

The whole thing- falling in love, meeting a second time and being given a second chance- is appealing on many levels.

Most people have one person they wish they could have a second chance with.

A past relationship that was electric and exciting and passionate that you wish you could do it all over again. Even if there was some bad mixed in with all the good.

No relationship is ever perfect and every couple encounters problems and misunderstandings. People change, circumstances change and feelings can change, too.

And a history that took months and years to build up, can all fall apart as easily as a sand castle being washed away by the tide.

You might try and save it.  You grab your bucket and add more sand.

And things are good again. Maybe not as perfect as before but there’s still a lot of good left so you both hold on.

But the issues and the tide will reappear again. And unless both people are trying to fix it, you realize you can’t do it alone.

The whole situation can seem impossible and overwhelming. And sometimes it’s easier to walk away when you feel hurt, even if you love someone.

But after some time has passed, you start to miss the other person and maybe even wish you had a second chance.

But what if all your bad memories-  every fight, every lie, every hurtful word ever spoken – were all erased.

What if you met again as strangers without a past.

Maybe this time you would both be different.

Maybe if enough time had passed and if your experiences had changed, maybe you’d both be better.

Maybe. Or maybe erasing the past wouldn’t make any difference at all.

Don’t mistakes teach us what not to do next time and how to be better?

How would we know what to do differently if there were no past to learn from?

Maybe a second chance with someone wouldn’t be wonderful at all.

To go through the hurt and pain of breaking up all over again? No one would ever choose that.

And what if the other person walked away without a fight. Or they treated you badly the first time?

If they really loved you, wouldn’t they have tried harder and treated you better? Would it be any different the second time?

It takes mutual love and respect and the effort from two people, to build the relationship and to protect the sand castle.

These are all just words and words don’t really mean anything unless the person who they are meant for actually reads them.

And even if they read them, there are no magic words that can change the past and make things work. Not even “I love you,” not even “I’m sorry,” and not even “I really wish we could start over again.”

Love isn’t always enough and some things were just not meant to be.

What does matter is finding someone who won’t give up on you. Even after you’ve messed up.

Someone who is as passionate about you as you are about them.

Otherwise, all you end up with is a pile of useless fucking sand.

“If you love something, let it go.

If you don’t love something, definitely let it go. Basically, just drop everything, who cares.” – B.J. Novak

 

I Love You, by Banksy, canvas print.

I Love You, by Banksy, canvas print.

 

   http://www.imdb.com/media/rm2954530560/tt0338013

The Funeral

I did not write this.

A friend sent this to me recently. It touched me and I wanted to share.

Enjoy….

Consumed by my loss, I didn’t notice the hardness of the pew where I sat. I was at the funeral of my dearest friend – my mother. She finally had lost her long battle with cancer. The hurt was so intense; I found it hard to breathe at times. Always supportive, Mother clapped loudest at my school plays, held a box of tissues while listening to my first heartbreak, comforted me at my father’s death, encouraged me in college, and prayed for me my entire life. When mother’s illness was diagnosed, my sister had a new baby and my brother had recently married his childhood sweetheart, so it fell on me, the 27-year-old middle female child without entanglements, to take care of her. I counted it an honor.

‘What now, Lord?’ I asked sitting in church. My life stretched out before me as an empty abyss. My brother sat stoically with his face toward the cross while clutching his wife’s hand. My sister sat slumped against her husband’s shoulder, his arms around her as she cradled their child. All so deeply grieving, no one noticed I sat alone. My place had been with our mother, preparing her meals, helping her walk, taking her to the doctor, seeing to her medication, reading the Bible together. Now she was with the Lord. My work was finished, and I was alone. I heard a door open and slam shut at the back of the church. Quick footsteps hurried along the carpeted floor.

An exasperated young man looked around briefly and then sat next to me. He folded his hands and placed them on his lap. His eyes were brimming with tears. He began to sniffle. ‘I’m late,’ he explained, though no explanation was necessary. After several eulogies, he leaned over and commented, ‘Why do they keep calling Mary by the name of ‘Margaret?” ‘Because, that was her name, Margaret. Never Mary, no one called her ‘Mary,” I whispered. I wondered why this person couldn’t have sat on the other side of the church. He interrupted my grieving with his tears and fidgeting. Who was this stranger anyway?

‘No, that isn’t correct,’ he insisted, as several people glanced over at us whispering, ‘her name is Mary, Mary Peters.’ ‘That isn’t who this is.’ ‘Isn’t this the Lutheran church?’ ‘No, the Lutheran church is across the street.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘I believe you’re at the wrong funeral, Sir.’ The solemnness of the occasion mixed with the realization of the man’s mistake bubbled up inside me and came out as laughter. I cupped my hands over my face, hoping it would be interpreted as sobs. The creaking pew gave me away. Sharp looks from other mourners only made the situation seem more hilarious. I peeked at the bewildered, misguided man seated beside me. He was laughing too, as he glanced around, deciding it was too late for an uneventful exit. I imagined Mother laughing. At the final ‘Amen,’ we darted out a door and into the parking lot. ‘I do believe we’ll be the talk of the town,’ he smiled. He said his name was Rick and since he had missed his aunt’s funeral, asked me out for lunch.

That afternoon began a lifelong journey for me with this man who attended the wrong funeral, but was in the right place. A year after our meeting, we were married at a country church where he was the assistant pastor. This time we both arrived at the same church, right on time.

In my time of sorrow, I found laughter and love. This past June, we celebrated our twenty-second wedding anniversary. Whenever anyone asks us how we met, Rick tells them, ‘Her mother and my Aunt Mary introduced us, and it’s truly a match made in heaven.’

Remember, God doesn’t make mistakes. He puts us where we are supposed to be.

The Player

“I was a drunken whore master.”

These were Todd’s exact words to me, describing himself. [This is a post about him, a guy I’ve known for years, who repeatedly tried to sleep with me and repeatedly failed.]

I was impressed with his honesty. It also made me laugh. It was funny.

And also sad.

But there are thousands of Todd’s. They are everywhere.

Guys who would fuck any girl who is willing to put out.

And according to Todd, most girls are easy prey. All he’d have to do was buy them a few drinks and tell them they were pretty.

Two shots later and BOOM. She’s naked in your bed.

“So easy”, he’d say.

But empty. Sad. Pathetic.

Todd slept with 2, 3, sometimes even 4 girls, in a single week. Leaving a trail of broken hearts and some very confused and upset women, along the way.

He didn’t care. He didn’t want any girl. He just wanted to get laid. He talked about it as casually as discussing the weather.

Then one day, after a bad day at work, he stopped at a bar. He’d stopped there a 100 times before. He had seen her there a few times.

Sometimes they’d even make small talk. That particular night, the bar was empty. He moved a seat closer.

He bought her a drink.

She smiled and thanked him. One hour turned into two… Two drinks turned into… many.

He couldn’t remember the details. “All I remember is her….”

That night, Todd took her back to his apartment. On the way, he stopped at a liquor store. He ran inside and minutes later, returned with an expensive bottle of red wine.

“I don’t care for red,” she said.

“Should I run in and get you a bottle of white?” he asked.

He aimed to please. She politely declined. They left.

Todd had all the things you would imagine a Player to have: a brand new loaded BMW, a great apartment, an amazing job. And he was very attractive.

Short, dark hair. Perfectly dressed. Expensive jeans. A sexy, striped button down shirt. His eyes were dark. Smoldering.

He stared at her. She knew exactly what he was thinking. 

He popped open the bottle of wine.

She was nervous. She guzzled it to calm her nerves.

They made small talk. He moved closer. She darted away. She needed more wine.

She looked in his refrigerator. It was overflowing with beer and little else.

More wine. Flirting. Kissing…

Two hours later, they were naked in his bed. A huge beautiful, antique-looking wooden mirror leaned up against his wall. An odd piece for a Player to have. It showed he had dimension. Some class. An appreciation for beautiful pieces of old furniture.

She liked it.

She grabbed her black dress and heels, got dressed and left. She needed to go home.

He stood in the doorway, barely clothed and watched her walk to her car. He missed her before she had even left.

Todd stopped seeing other women. All he could think about was her.

She wasn’t the most beautiful girl. But she was quite striking. Soft blonde hair that grazed her shoulders. Pretty green eyes.

Her body bore the faint scars of having children. It was not perfect. He didn’t care.

He thought she was beautiful.

And she was smart, funny, cute.

Irresistible.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again.

Soon.

He couldn’t wait. He texted her and emailed her. Sent an extravagant bouquet of calla lilies and white roses to her at work.

What the fuck had happened to him?

He didn’t even recognize himself.

Soon they were seeing each other frequently. The sex was amazing. Electric.

But it was more than that.

He was falling in love with her. And she felt the same.

Todd had never been the romantic type. But one night he told her: “I care for you so much, it scares me. I want you to know how much I love you.”

She was touched. “You are amazing, Todd.”

He replied, “No I am NOT amazing. When I look at you, all these words just come pouring out of me. I’m not amazing. I’m just being genuine. This is what you do to me. This is how you make me feel.”


If they are lucky, even the most promiscuous man (or woman), will meet a person who will change them.

Turn their world upside-fucking-down.

The trick is finding a person who will reciprocate that all-consuming love.

A person who earns it. Respects and protects it.

Makes you feel like anything is possible.

If you find that… hold onto it.

Never let it go.

[Update: A few months later, this girl dumped Todd and completely broke his heart. Perhaps proving that karma does in fact exist. I don’t know. It’s not for me to say.]

The Taste Of You #MMCM Mirtha Michelle: Mirtha Michel, Michel Castro, Letters

The Taste Of You #MMCM Mirtha Michelle: Mirtha Michel, Michel Castro, Letters

 

 

The Total Package

If you love someone, set them free.
UGH.
I despise the cliche.
The truth is, if you love someone, WHY would you ever let them go? Fear? Doubt? Stupidity? There are a million different answers.
And I am not sure I can understand any of them.
Because finding true love is not an easy thing to do. So WHY would you ever throw it away?
My dear friend Jenny is beautiful, smart and funny. The total package. Jenny fell madly and quickly in love this past spring. He was AMAZING. He adored her and her 2 young boys. The sex was electric. Everything was new and exciting and perfect. Then, a few months into the relationship, he took a extended business trip to Europe.
He stopped calling.  He suddenly clammed up.
Fear and doubt set in.
The distance made it impossible to maintain the relationship.
She fell apart.
Tears and sadness and loneliness. I was there for her through it all.
“He’ll regret his decision.”  “He’ll miss you.”  “He’ll cave and come back to you.” All of her friends told her the same thing: “He’ll come begging to take you back.”
Two weeks later he emailed her.  He still loved her.  He did miss her. But he had decided to stay in Europe permanently.
She fell apart. Again.
More tears…
Meanwhile I was going through my own share of heartache. My own 2 year relationship was also crumbling apart. I lost my job, the love of my life moved out, and suddenly my entire world was unrecognizable.
A month later, Jenny emailed me.  Instead of the usual sadness, there was a new found excitement.
“I met someone new. His name is John. He is amazing. I think I’m starting to fall in love with him. I think. It’s all so scary and happening so fast. He is simply just, WOW.”
As happy and thrilled as I was for her, my own heart was still very much broken. Even after 2 marriages (both which I had ended), and countless heartbreaks, I was convinced I’d never recover from this one. In my mind, he was my soul mate.
Mark, a man I had dated briefly 2 years ago, was a total package himself: charming, tall, successful, beautiful blue eyes- imagine a Ken doll come to life. I remember our second date.  His good looks were almost too perfect.
I said, “I bet you could have any woman you want, Mark.”  He looked at me with his intense blue eyes and replied, “There are beautiful girls everywhere, but YOU are the only one I’m interested in.”
I read Jenny’s email again.
“I think I’m starting to fall in love with him. He is simply just, WOW.”
It made PERFECT sense. She was a total package so it did not take very long for another man to come along and scoop her up. Just like that.
Yes, there are beautiful women (and men) everywhere. But total packages are not easy to be found. 
It gave me hope. Maybe I would meet someone new and amazing again, too. After all I’m witty, charming and attractive, too– the total package. I also paint, write, and sing. Okay maybe I can’t sing- but I have a huge fucking heart. AND I can cook my ass off. Not all women can. I have BONUS features. [Yes, that’s a Twitter reference.]
What’s not to love?
Maybe my broken heart would heal eventually and I’d find love again, too.
Of course I would.
Because smart, beautiful, kick-ass women rarely end up alone.