I'm not asking you to tear down your walls
Just to open a doorway so I can peek inside.
At my age,
a woman should let the world around her be their muse
there's so much to explore
see, touch, taste.
Focusing on one thing can be a complete waste of time
If only I could feel that you were...
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Sunday, May 22, 2016
On Dating 2
Dating is like looking both ways before you cross the road and getting hit by a plane in the middle of it.
Whether I want to or not, eventually I'm going to have to give in and accept "Ducking" as a swear word. My phone just isn't having that word out of my potty mouth. It will however randomly suggest "Cock" when I type in the letter C and "Boobs" whenever I enter a B....figure that one out.Do you ever just look at someone and instantly can't talk to them because you know it's going to be highly inappropriate if you try?
"How are you today?"
"Well, I'd be great if I could pretty please sexually harass you while touching your butt for just 5 minutes so that I can get the visions of me banging you on every piece of furniture I own out of my system so I can act like a human and not some sexually driven ape."
And then you walk away and high five the friend who tried to talk you out of saying that before it left you mouth and call HR and leave a voicemail that you'll see them promptly Tuesday after work so that they can give you that new hire sexual harassment seminar again that you were in the back swiping right on Tinder during the first time.
No? Me either.
While my attraction to women is rare, there are times that I want to walk up to 1 specific person that I have a braingasm every single time I see her and I just want to ask her husband if it would be okay if I made out with his wife.
"I'll leave her better than I found her, promise!"I haven't been on Tinder in a while, but as I was recently checking it out and found something that makes me believe that he would be okay with that. That, and the fact that approximately two months ago on a night out with friends I was repeatedly winked at from across the bar by said braingasmic hot woman.
Anyways, I'm getting off subject because well, boobs.
Why are breakfast dates not more of a thing? Forget your fancy dinner with the food that I'm expected to be able to consume while wearing an adorable dress in spanx where I have to both breathe and be kind while being squeezed like the watermelon challenge. Give me my pj's and a short stack and and coffee and deep conversation about anything that doesn't involve feelings and nobody will get hurt; or something relatively BS free and along those lines. If I had a movie date at my house it would most likely end in 20 minutes after I pass out because I have rarely been able to sit through a movie in my own home. You want to just cuddle and fall asleep? I'm totally down for a nap date! A walk on a trail in the woods and explore where I get covered in sweat and bug spray and you somehow think the way that I seduce you with my awkwardness is fantastic? Yes please!
I have a hard time "working towards" a relationship. I kind of want things to already be that way. With one person, forever. It amazes me how common courtesy is lost on most people nowadays. If someone doesn't match up with what you want from your life, tell them instead of freezing and hiding like a coward. Then there are those who act to your face like you're the best thing in the world to them and then nowhere to be found any other minute of the day. There just aren't enough real people in the world anymore.
And that's my point: I'm a relatively BS free person, most of the time. As a recently acquired friend said in conversation the other day: "You have had an enormous amount of shit thrown at you in the past 5 months." Things I thought would never happen did and as mentioned in a previous post, I know I haven't had the best time of dealing with it appropriately. I'm a constant self improvement project; as we all should be.
Some of the things written to me on my dating website account....I wish I could be making this shit up, but I have screen shots.
From Dude 14 years younger than myself:
"Hey Cougar! Is your name Wi-Fi? Because I'm definitely feeling a connection here!"1. I am not a cougar.
2. You are closer in age to my teenage daughter than you are to myself.
3. I have standards.
4. Fuck off.
From random Dude half the state away in his very first message to me:
"I love you."Um, well that escalated quickly...
His response:
"Well when you know, you should tell someone right away."And then there's the entire fear of being catfished, again. Yeah, that's happened too.
I'm so ready to give up on the quest for the actual forever kind of love and just have a crap load of toys and activity buddies. Wait, I already have that....
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Vital Organs
I don't want to keep having to put myself back together every time you don't call.
I am pretty sure that alcohol comes with the label "Heartbreak Super Glue" for a reason, but I've never really been one to test theories. Okay that's not true, I'm all too familiar with the warpath of curiosity. I could put the blame on you, but it's me who keeps breaking my own heart sitting here waiting.
None of my organs are on speaking terms anymore.
My brain absolutely knows what an insult to my intelligence all of this is and collects facts to make the pain stop screaming "Fuck this" while my broken heart bleeds out into the bottle of tequila my liver perpetually consumes to disinfect and drown the feelings I've never gotten used to hanging around like some gang waiting in a dark alley to cut me deeper than your lies did.
My eyes keep trying to force every memory of your face down my throat and it's not having it. They want to rage rivers but my heart and brain are giving the tag team "Don't you dare" and since they've made the mistake before, they heed the warning this time.
My tongue can't stop longing for your taste and it lashes out in protest of teenage dream anguish.
My stomach is over this already. Antacids are great, but so isn't the food that I used to be a fan of.
My nerve endings are screaming for the calm that just being in the sound wave as your existence brought to them, knowing they'll never feel that way again.
And the underthings, don't even get me started on what I heard through the grapevine regarding the coup they're about to stage.
And my fingers.....well honey, unfortunately nothing feels like you.
There's few sure things in this world. Even fewer constants. But the thing I'm most sure of is that once someone knows that they have you and it's not a struggle to keep you, they're going to find a new game to play.
Someone get the memo to my soul to stay out of it next time.
I am pretty sure that alcohol comes with the label "Heartbreak Super Glue" for a reason, but I've never really been one to test theories. Okay that's not true, I'm all too familiar with the warpath of curiosity. I could put the blame on you, but it's me who keeps breaking my own heart sitting here waiting.
None of my organs are on speaking terms anymore.
My brain absolutely knows what an insult to my intelligence all of this is and collects facts to make the pain stop screaming "Fuck this" while my broken heart bleeds out into the bottle of tequila my liver perpetually consumes to disinfect and drown the feelings I've never gotten used to hanging around like some gang waiting in a dark alley to cut me deeper than your lies did.
My eyes keep trying to force every memory of your face down my throat and it's not having it. They want to rage rivers but my heart and brain are giving the tag team "Don't you dare" and since they've made the mistake before, they heed the warning this time.
My tongue can't stop longing for your taste and it lashes out in protest of teenage dream anguish.
My stomach is over this already. Antacids are great, but so isn't the food that I used to be a fan of.
My nerve endings are screaming for the calm that just being in the sound wave as your existence brought to them, knowing they'll never feel that way again.
And the underthings, don't even get me started on what I heard through the grapevine regarding the coup they're about to stage.
And my fingers.....well honey, unfortunately nothing feels like you.
There's few sure things in this world. Even fewer constants. But the thing I'm most sure of is that once someone knows that they have you and it's not a struggle to keep you, they're going to find a new game to play.
Someone get the memo to my soul to stay out of it next time.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
I'm About To Say "Fuck" A Lot....
Honestly, the best thing about text messaging and the fact that it's backed up on my account, is that I have a written timeline every time that someone drives me to act like an emotionally unstable lunatic, and the sane conversations and nuggets of wisdom I dole out to my friends that I don't take myself; and as I'm looking through them apparently should.
Sometimes (all the time) it's really fucking hard for me to remember that I'm worth more than a once in a while text response or a pat on the butt when it's convenient; but I am and even after having a day that was as much fun as a sandpaper dildo, I remember. And then I get pissed that it's not already common fucking sense to treat a person with a little decency.
Nobody is really as busy as they say they are. When you've ignored me for a fucking week straight and yet openly complain about how horrible every woman is on the planet and how you're getting ignored BUT THERE IS ONE RIGHT HERE BEGGING FOR YOUR FUCKING TIME, you my friend deserve to be told to FUCK. DIRECTLY. OFF. I cannot believe that anyone would accept that kind of standard from themselves, let alone anyone else. How are you surprised that nobody wants to talk to a blowhard who acts like the human equivalent of a Participation Award?
Having patience with the person that you're in a relationship with is key. It is not license to act like a fucking dick and do whatever the fuck you want. I don't mean that once you're in a relationship that you're under my thumb, but have enough fucking respect for me enough to communicate a little. Busy? I get it, but not answering calls or text messages or answering direct questions that are simple to fucking answer and then all you can text back hours later is "What are you doing" to prove that you genuinely don't give a fuck about anyone and clearly not me is fucking bullshit. Most importantly: **You are not allowed to cancel plans by text message unless your throat has been ripped out by a hyena.** And I'm not just talking about someone that you're dating; I'm talking about any kind of relationship at all. I would fucking die before I let someone that was a part of my life in any way feel like they were nothing.
"And the human equivalent of a Participation Award for Douchiest Douchebag on the planet is awarded to...." Believe me, it's a contest that nobody is in the running for. You can stop trying so hard; you fucking win.
If you don't have any integrity; meaning that if you don't believe in saying what you actually feel/think/mean, call when you say you will, do what you say you are going to do, then keep to yourself or at the very least stay the fuck away from me.
Sometimes (all the time) it's really fucking hard for me to remember that I'm worth more than a once in a while text response or a pat on the butt when it's convenient; but I am and even after having a day that was as much fun as a sandpaper dildo, I remember. And then I get pissed that it's not already common fucking sense to treat a person with a little decency.
Nobody is really as busy as they say they are. When you've ignored me for a fucking week straight and yet openly complain about how horrible every woman is on the planet and how you're getting ignored BUT THERE IS ONE RIGHT HERE BEGGING FOR YOUR FUCKING TIME, you my friend deserve to be told to FUCK. DIRECTLY. OFF. I cannot believe that anyone would accept that kind of standard from themselves, let alone anyone else. How are you surprised that nobody wants to talk to a blowhard who acts like the human equivalent of a Participation Award?
Having patience with the person that you're in a relationship with is key. It is not license to act like a fucking dick and do whatever the fuck you want. I don't mean that once you're in a relationship that you're under my thumb, but have enough fucking respect for me enough to communicate a little. Busy? I get it, but not answering calls or text messages or answering direct questions that are simple to fucking answer and then all you can text back hours later is "What are you doing" to prove that you genuinely don't give a fuck about anyone and clearly not me is fucking bullshit. Most importantly: **You are not allowed to cancel plans by text message unless your throat has been ripped out by a hyena.** And I'm not just talking about someone that you're dating; I'm talking about any kind of relationship at all. I would fucking die before I let someone that was a part of my life in any way feel like they were nothing.
"And the human equivalent of a Participation Award for Douchiest Douchebag on the planet is awarded to...." Believe me, it's a contest that nobody is in the running for. You can stop trying so hard; you fucking win.
If you don't have any integrity; meaning that if you don't believe in saying what you actually feel/think/mean, call when you say you will, do what you say you are going to do, then keep to yourself or at the very least stay the fuck away from me.
Friday, May 13, 2016
When You're Not Sure What Else To Say In The End, Say Everything
Some folks follow their dreams,
I like to hunt mine down and beat them into submission.
There are times when I am the most terrifying thing I've had to overcome.
There are also times when I get weird, stabby pains in my chest.
Then I relax because it was just a piece of cereal in my bra trying to impale me.
My first instinct has always to jump to conclusions
And even though I've gotten better at the "is this an ocean or puddle",
I can't help but feel like I've been right the entire time about you.
My mind never stops and neither do my feelings of being less than enough.
I just wanted someone to laugh with;
I had become tired of leaning on myself
And being there for everyone else.
I am finally ready for someone else to help bear the weight of the world with me.
I hope one day to find someone who will keep me long enough
To make sense of all of the chaos that creates all the places where
My soul bends like those carnival rides I hate.
It took me a while to figure out that I don't meet the height requirement
For your emotional roller coaster,
However I found myself stupefied by the beauty of the scenery
And Baby I would have stayed forever if you had let me.
I think I scare you because I won't break you like those other girls did.
I don't have it in me to hurt you,
Even though I know I should.
I know that being happy is the most terrifying thing in the Universe.
Once you're happy it can be taken from you.
Sometimes it simply runs screaming after a glimpse
At the weight of the world you're holding up.
Sometimes it's best to leave the happiness in tact
And walk away until it's time to come back to it.
And this is where I leave you.
I can't keep breaking my own heart waiting for you.
When you wrote me that time years ago,
Not through any fault of our own it was ill timed and unexpected.
I knew you were an anomaly powerful enough to bring my inner vixen to her knees
And I sensed a tenderness wild enough to bring my inner poet to the breaking point.
Boy was I right.
I'm not delusional enough to believe that I'm the first to get under your skin
I'm nearly positive that I didn't even scratch your epidermis.
I know I wasn't the first person to kiss your body
And do things that made you feel like you were the only man in the world.
I had just hoped that I got to be the last
Because to me you were.
I didn't want to get used to you, you know.
I fought you,
But being with you was as pure and effortless as breathing
And you told me that it would be okay if I did.
But here we are and now I am
And I can tell that you are so not okay with it.
Just one time I'd like to live in a world in which loving doesn't mean losing.
Losing what? You ask.
Nothing.
You should gain everything with love.
With the definition I give it as an appreciation of who you are as an entire being,
I love you.
And I don't care what you think because I know your narrow mind is stuck on
That hollow saying that everyone takes back.
Some days talking to you is like trying to fold a fitted sheet.
Ending in everything being entirely mangled and screwed up on the inside of the folds
Leaving you with wishing it were easier to deal with but understanding the necessity.
But looks like it's perfect from the outside;
At least until you go to put it on the bed.
Then all the wrinkles ingrained in it from being ignored,
Stuffed in the back of the closet too long.
And no amount of acting like you enjoy seeing me makes me flatten out and feel better Because they're stained with all the nasty things only a CSI can read.
I'll start keeping my hands to myself when I find someone who feels like you.
Someone who tastes like it would feel if I had a dollar for every time
You cross my mind and make my heart stop in my chest.
I was never worried about losing you
I was worried about losing myself
Until the day came that I reached out for your dead, blackened heart
And you broke me.
Now I know that I wasn't afraid of losing you because I never had you to begin with.
And now I don't know where I am.
Words spill out of me as if I have no lid,
Yet I still manage to hold back
I want to put you away
but thoughts of us are running through my mind too fast to collect dust.
Words created by memories
Of the chills I get when I remember your hands;
The emptiness I feel when you're not with me is crushing.
I wish you well and along with that I wish you the pain of consequences.
I remember every instant that my poor,
Hopeful heart caved for a crumb of your time.
I've lost you a thousand times and I remember every single loss,
But I can never remember what makes us find each other.
We'll meet again years from now,
Probably in some antique shop filled with books people pretend to need.
When you are the same old you and I a different me.
Maybe I won't hate you then.
Maybe I will have forgiven us both.
Maybe you'll finally stop searching for things to fill that void you don't talk about.
Believe me, yes I noticed it.
So much of what we learn from love are lessons taught by those who never really loved us.
I left the door to my heart open ajar just in case.
I like to hunt mine down and beat them into submission.
There are times when I am the most terrifying thing I've had to overcome.
There are also times when I get weird, stabby pains in my chest.
Then I relax because it was just a piece of cereal in my bra trying to impale me.
My first instinct has always to jump to conclusions
And even though I've gotten better at the "is this an ocean or puddle",
I can't help but feel like I've been right the entire time about you.
My mind never stops and neither do my feelings of being less than enough.
I just wanted someone to laugh with;
I had become tired of leaning on myself
And being there for everyone else.
I am finally ready for someone else to help bear the weight of the world with me.
I hope one day to find someone who will keep me long enough
To make sense of all of the chaos that creates all the places where
My soul bends like those carnival rides I hate.
It took me a while to figure out that I don't meet the height requirement
For your emotional roller coaster,
However I found myself stupefied by the beauty of the scenery
And Baby I would have stayed forever if you had let me.
I think I scare you because I won't break you like those other girls did.
I don't have it in me to hurt you,
Even though I know I should.
I know that being happy is the most terrifying thing in the Universe.
Once you're happy it can be taken from you.
Sometimes it simply runs screaming after a glimpse
At the weight of the world you're holding up.
Sometimes it's best to leave the happiness in tact
And walk away until it's time to come back to it.
And this is where I leave you.
I can't keep breaking my own heart waiting for you.
When you wrote me that time years ago,
Not through any fault of our own it was ill timed and unexpected.
I knew you were an anomaly powerful enough to bring my inner vixen to her knees
And I sensed a tenderness wild enough to bring my inner poet to the breaking point.
Boy was I right.
I'm not delusional enough to believe that I'm the first to get under your skin
I'm nearly positive that I didn't even scratch your epidermis.
I know I wasn't the first person to kiss your body
And do things that made you feel like you were the only man in the world.
I had just hoped that I got to be the last
Because to me you were.
I didn't want to get used to you, you know.
I fought you,
But being with you was as pure and effortless as breathing
And you told me that it would be okay if I did.
But here we are and now I am
And I can tell that you are so not okay with it.
Just one time I'd like to live in a world in which loving doesn't mean losing.
Losing what? You ask.
Nothing.
You should gain everything with love.
With the definition I give it as an appreciation of who you are as an entire being,
I love you.
And I don't care what you think because I know your narrow mind is stuck on
That hollow saying that everyone takes back.
Some days talking to you is like trying to fold a fitted sheet.
Ending in everything being entirely mangled and screwed up on the inside of the folds
Leaving you with wishing it were easier to deal with but understanding the necessity.
But looks like it's perfect from the outside;
At least until you go to put it on the bed.
Then all the wrinkles ingrained in it from being ignored,
Stuffed in the back of the closet too long.
And no amount of acting like you enjoy seeing me makes me flatten out and feel better Because they're stained with all the nasty things only a CSI can read.
I'll start keeping my hands to myself when I find someone who feels like you.
Someone who tastes like it would feel if I had a dollar for every time
You cross my mind and make my heart stop in my chest.
I was never worried about losing you
I was worried about losing myself
Until the day came that I reached out for your dead, blackened heart
And you broke me.
Now I know that I wasn't afraid of losing you because I never had you to begin with.
And now I don't know where I am.
Words spill out of me as if I have no lid,
Yet I still manage to hold back
I want to put you away
but thoughts of us are running through my mind too fast to collect dust.
Words created by memories
Of the chills I get when I remember your hands;
The emptiness I feel when you're not with me is crushing.
I wish you well and along with that I wish you the pain of consequences.
I remember every instant that my poor,
Hopeful heart caved for a crumb of your time.
I've lost you a thousand times and I remember every single loss,
But I can never remember what makes us find each other.
We'll meet again years from now,
Probably in some antique shop filled with books people pretend to need.
When you are the same old you and I a different me.
Maybe I won't hate you then.
Maybe I will have forgiven us both.
Maybe you'll finally stop searching for things to fill that void you don't talk about.
Believe me, yes I noticed it.
So much of what we learn from love are lessons taught by those who never really loved us.
I left the door to my heart open ajar just in case.
Monday, May 9, 2016
Rework: Uneasy Silence, Curiosities And Visions
I had somehow become married to my loneliness
and that's where you found me.
and that's where you found me.
I tried to fight you out of my mind
but I can't help but keep writing my admiration of you.
but I can't help but keep writing my admiration of you.
Writing it out feels like the best and the worst moment all at the same time.
I can proclaim a masterpiece for you in this blog of mine repeatedly,
but my vocal chords turn to concrete at the sight of your face;
keeping me from saying what I need to in order to voice my need for this to be mutual.
Instead it's easier on my heart to dismiss any nice things that you say to me
and accuse you of sleeping with half the planet
and push you away with the dismissal that you're just screwing with me
because you enjoy killing me slowly like some narcissistic serial killer of hearts
instead of accepting what you're telling me to be true.
Constantly questioning the Universe:
"Is this an ocean or a puddle?"
My ability to tell has been skewed by muddled signs of self preservation
and punch drunk curiosity.
I run a constant race with my emotions
and it's usually ego that falls flat on it's face first
with inner peace coming in dead last.
It just sits in the middle of the track waiting to be kissed,
checking out the dandelions.
Converse with me, but don't look at me.
Your eyes cause a molecular change in my spirit
and my mind becomes amputated from my mouth
and my heart is at the control panel
and that's not a good thing if we want to avoid burning to ash.
My tongue doesn't follow direction well.
The way I feel about you has become so ingrained in me
that I would set myself on fire if you asked for light.
But your words are hitting my ears as faint as a coin you've flipped into a well of abandonment
and echoing just as hollow.
Words, that's all you give me.
I'm tired of waiting for you,
patiently watching you gambling copper in hopes of promises of gold.
It's infuriating.
I've grown accustomed to goodbyes without ever speaking the words "It's over".
I keep waiting for your grand deployment from my life;
praying with every atom of my being that it never comes.
Based on your history that you've let me see you don't keep them around long;
yet I'm supposed to keep my patience level to a maximum at all times even when you don't call.
My head gets the concept,
yet my heart is about 10 miles back trying to catch up.
I could watch you watching the news on the couch
and not hear a thing
but find a million things about you that I can't get enough of.
There's nothing that can ever keep me from you.
Except you.
Constantly questioning the Universe:
"Is this an ocean or a puddle?"
My ability to tell has been skewed by muddled signs of self preservation
and punch drunk curiosity.
I run a constant race with my emotions
and it's usually ego that falls flat on it's face first
with inner peace coming in dead last.
It just sits in the middle of the track waiting to be kissed,
checking out the dandelions.
Converse with me, but don't look at me.
Your eyes cause a molecular change in my spirit
and my mind becomes amputated from my mouth
and my heart is at the control panel
and that's not a good thing if we want to avoid burning to ash.
My tongue doesn't follow direction well.
The way I feel about you has become so ingrained in me
that I would set myself on fire if you asked for light.
But your words are hitting my ears as faint as a coin you've flipped into a well of abandonment
and echoing just as hollow.
Words, that's all you give me.
I'm tired of waiting for you,
patiently watching you gambling copper in hopes of promises of gold.
It's infuriating.
I've grown accustomed to goodbyes without ever speaking the words "It's over".
I keep waiting for your grand deployment from my life;
praying with every atom of my being that it never comes.
Based on your history that you've let me see you don't keep them around long;
yet I'm supposed to keep my patience level to a maximum at all times even when you don't call.
My head gets the concept,
yet my heart is about 10 miles back trying to catch up.
I could watch you watching the news on the couch
and not hear a thing
but find a million things about you that I can't get enough of.
There's nothing that can ever keep me from you.
Except you.
This is just a re-work of a previous post titled "Uneasy Silence, Curiosities and Visions". It just didn't feel like it was flowing correctly and getting my point across as I re-read it the other day.
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