From my heart to yours

Posts Tagged ‘dating

I believe in the magic of first kisses,

In the innocence of holding hands,

In the excitement of kissing until my breath is taken away.

I believe in the comfort of curling up in his arms after a long day,

In the joy of joy of listening to his heart beat through his chest,

In the bliss of realizing that he is mine.

I believe in fairytales;

Not the ones that Disney wrote.

I believe in my own.

In my fairytale he is my King, not simply my prince,

With his perfectly melanated skin,

His full lips,

His tangled curls,

His deeply smooth voice that intoxicates my soul.

He is my fairytale.

He is my dream.

I will give him my whole heart willingly.

Waiting on my King.

Advertisements

I am an over-lover. I  use the word love like it was candy to be given out to any and everyone who is nice to me. My love is not always reserved for those who earn, it is often given freely and openly to all who I encounter. A guy I used to date called me a hippie and I wore that title proudly. I am a lover, never a fighter and that is not going to change anytime soon. In high school my over loving bit me in the ass. I gave my heart to the guy I “loved” because, you know, high school love. It was the most embarrassing situation I have ever been in. I gave my love to a guy who in return either degraded me or encouraged those who degraded me. I was left broken, rejected and hating myself. What I learned from that situation was that was not love.

The house I grew up in was complete with fake love. It was like a television show, false pretenses and declarations of love in front of others, a war and infidelity behind closed doors. It came as no surprise to me when my aunt and uncle divorced after witnessing this behavior for years. And of course, knowing how the relationship between my parents came to end made love seem dismal. Knowing that my mom gave years of herself, sacrificing and putting up with dumb shit from my dad, all in the name of love, only to get left for a  woman who could not compare, crushes me.

I’m saying all of this to say that I haven’t had the best examples of what love should look like. The only romantic love that I have given and received was of the tragic high school sort and did not end well for me. So when I was left figuring out my feelings for a man that I recently split from, I was confused. I don’t want to say that I love him, because that is a word that I am afraid to use now and because I’m not sure it was. But I do know that he is a man that I could have grown to love, but I’ll come back to this later.

I recently asked some people how they knew they were in love. I didn’t get some responses, mostly because the question was so heavy. But the ones I did get were insightful. What it came down to was you know when you put that person’s needs above your own. That person becomes a part of your life. And as we grow older and wiser, that love changes for each of us.

post-image

From Diary of a Mad Black Woman

The quote above is probably one of my favorite descriptions of love. It is beautiful and heartfelt.

723783aa4072e831254c1dfc93f16459I found the quote from Poussey floating around on twitter and thought it was a sweet example also.

Through all of my thinking and over thinking, what I have decided is that my love has grown immensely from high school. I have learned not to give it away completely without it being earned. I have a better understanding of what my love actually feels and looks like.

I asked myself again today if I loved him and I know the answer changed a lot. I loved being with him. I loved the way I felt when I was with him. I loved that he helped me feel confident about myself and that he encouraged and supported me in every way I needed. I loved that we could spend an entire day doing absolutely nothing excepting listening to music from the 90s and it would be absolutely perfect. I loved the way my skin felt on fire when he touched me. I loved so many things about him that even now, after the bullshit ending to us, I pray for him and his well being. I hope that he is well and happy. I miss his voice and his kiss and I feel like a small part of me is missing. So I guess that I did love him in a way. I think I was starting to love him. And that explains why it has been so hard to move on. But I have comfort in knowing that I get to look forward to a great love. A love that won’t hurt. A love that will last. I just got a small taste of what that can feel like and as I put myself back together, I know that my love will be great. I am so excited to grow in love with someone who deserves my love and to know that it is returned.

 

I enjoy my solitude

Oftentimes more than I enjoy company.

So I took a chance letting you in.

I exposed you to my intricacies

Intimacies

My insecurities.

And you fit right in.

Comfortable.

 

I laid myself bare,

In more ways than one.

Exposed my body and soul.

Held on tight, hoping you would do the same.

I found myself in a place brand new to me,

Relinquishing the comfort of my solitude.

I wanted to welcome you in more.

Comfortable.

 

You became a part of me.

Taught me to be brave in my skin.

Showered in your delicious kisses,

I found my voice.

In your arms I felt strong,

Warm,

And cared for.

Comfortable

I ruined a good date last night. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to call or text or want anything to do with me. And I can’t say I blame him, hell if I were him I’d run too. No pause. No hesitation. No looking back. Because in all reality, no one really wants to deal with someone who’s damaged.
And that’s exactly what I am. I’m damaged. Not because I’ve had terrible relationships. I’ve never been raped or attacked (although technically I have been sexually harassed but that incident never kept me up at night). I don’t have any traumatic stories to tell that explain why I am damaged. So last night when I found myself sabotaging a good thing and crying about it I had to do some soul searching.
And as my tears washed down the shower drain it occurred to me that the reason I am damaged is because I am not used to having a man be so attentive to me.
Do you need me to run that back for you? I had a panic attack and made a great guy feel terrible because he LIKES me! Because for many reasons that I’m not going to get into, I feel like I am not worthy of being liked and cared for. I am not that girl who guys adore and desire, it’s not my role and I’ve always played my role well. Good friend, little sister, I’ve got those perfected. Girlfriend, lover, not so much. I learned not to get excited about a man and to keep my feelings in check. I simply don’t allow myself that pleasure.
I freaked out because the idea that he wanted me to be more than a friend was inconceivable to me. I also couldn’t handle that I was excited about him and by him. So I sabotaged, my body physically would not handle this attention and I made him feel bad and I ran. I literally flopped out of his car with all of my things and ran in my 4 inch heels to my apartment. Because that was easier than accepting that maybe he really does like me and want to be with me.
And now I feel sick, physically ill because of how ridiculous this situation is. All I want to do is rewind to before our date and start over. But there are no do overs and now I have to wait for hin to work through it all.
I hope he calls, I apologized and now I’m giving him his space because I’m sure he’s trying to figure out what the hell he’s gotten himself into. He’s a good guy, certainly the best that I’ve dealt with, probably ever. So I hope he’s willing to handle a damaged, emotional mess like me.