After the novelty wears off after “leaving your girlfriend” for all the logical reasons that made sense at the time, it is important to resist the urge to revisit the crime scene. There will be a night when you are missing her. You’ll think about the way you always ordered pizza and watched Netflix together on hot summer nights, and you’ll have to fight the insane urge to pick up your phone. It happens. Be prepared.
That’s when you need to remember why you left. Remember the words she threw at you like daggers aiming straight for your heart, and the look of hate in her cold dark eyes that chilled you to the bone. That memory will give you the courage you need to look forward and not backwards.
You have to use what you’ve got to keep your emotions in check. If you’re like me, my emotions rule me far too often. Try as I might, I am very sensitive and tend to suffer from noticing absolutely every thing, both good and bad. When I am missing her, I focus on sweet moments in time like the way she cocks her head at me when she teases me, the way she holds her fork with her pinky out in a dainty little pose, the little curls that dance on her neck after she showers. On good days, I can be logical and write down the pros and cons of our situation. But there’s something about the evenings that always challenge my resolve.
Like a ping pong ball on steroids, I have been back and forth with my last girlfriend. I have always gone back in the past. We would kiss and make up, and then it would happen again. There is a point of no return though, when you can’t justify another chance to let her treat you like dirt again, to abuse you, to scream at you, or to demean you. You can’t justify letting her take her anger out on you again. Abuse is never acceptable.
Carpe the opportunity to save yourself from madness. I know this sounds preachy, but your self respect hangs in the balance, and nobody is more important than you are, to you. Take care of the beauty that is you, and never let anybody tell you that you are less than a creature of God’s making who deserves respect and love!
With all the horrible “Breaking Stories” these days, I find myself wanting to focus on the magical aspects of life. It has been too long since I have truly felt the magic of romance in my life. I try to always have a secret crush, just to keep my heart beating and hopeful. My previous crush just moved away though and we barely talk because she is in the mountains and barely gets phone reception. Plus, she’s straight and married which makes the crush a lot less hopeful, which is the purpose of such fantasies. So, I guess I need to find a new love interest to dream about, to send my thoughts to in earnest.
Since I work from home, it is harder to find that woman of my dreams. I don’t have a lot of contact with other people. I think I need to find a couple of groups so I don’t go stir crazy. Social media can only go so far to connect you with others. Most of my Facebook friends are couples or singles that live far away. I prefer that my crush is someone I can have lunch with and actually see in person. Believe me, I know how creepy this sounds. I guess I’m not quite ready to look for love in earnest, so a crush is perfect for me now, as a newly single lesbian still recovering from a 7 year relationship.
A crush provides the one thing in life that always seems to keep me going. If I don’t have something to look forward to, then I can get depressed. Little does the sweet woman know, that she keeps me from falling apart.
Nobody ever realizes how a genuine smile can truly make another person’s day. It’s weird, but I have been on the other side of the crush, and even when I don’t feel any chemistry, I still enjoy the attention and company. Plus, I am always super sweet to all women, without leading them on. I suspect that an innocent crush is a common coping mechanism for many of us.
Carpe your next crush with wild abandon.
As I try to decide on the type of woman I want to spend my life with, it seems that words fail me as I consider the women from my past who have taken up residence in my heart. Oddly enough, they were all so different that I am left clueless about how to describe the common denominator present in my chosen love interests. Why am I surprised? Falling in love isn’t like ordering a woman from the catalog. While the dating sites do make me feel like that at times, chemistry is certainly an elusive concept.
There is a basic sense of decency in a woman, a sweetness, that always captures my heart. While women my age are hardly innocent anymore, I enjoy women who laugh easily and still have a sense of wonder and excitement about the world. I rejoice in that type of joy.
As obvious as this may sound, I like women who are confident sexually without being slutty. Believe me, I know how that last sentence sounds, and expect to get some smart remarks about double standards, etc… I am always amazed by how political correctness has seeped into something as primal as our personal taste, often rendering us guilty about primal urges.
Let’s face it, the ultimate aphrodisiac is always a woman’s interest in what I have to say. Don’t get me wrong, I am a good listener. I equally enjoy listening to what she has to say too, especially when she’s talking about her passion in life.
Carpe the sweet ones, the smart girls who grace you with their enthusiasm for life and listen to what you have to say like they truly care.
A Wordy Grl
When it happens, there is no doubt in your mind. You meet her and she gets your jokes and makes an effort to understand your words that paint a picture of your journey. Her lips speak poetry and her body floats on waters blue that sparkle bright with seductive promises. The Universe has sent you a gift to be treasured. Now it’s up to you to figure out how to honor this precious offering.
The beginning is easy. All those firsts are the stuff of movies; the first date, the first kiss and the first sleepover. What’s not to like, right? There are people who spend their lives in relationships experiencing firsts, only to throw the union away when it gets too hard, after all the firsts become seconds and thirds and routines replace sparks, and often degenerate into ruts.
I’m not pointing fingers. I am guilty of digging in and bricking up my own version of rut living, somehow justifying my boredom as grownup living. My mother’s words float around in my head, haunting me as the worst possible scenarios that could happen…”You’re dreaming. You need to settle down and find a nice man to take care of you before you get too old. Life isn’t about having fun. You should get a steady job with benefits, instead of always chasing some pie in the sky dream. A woman will never commit to you like a man will.” On bad days, I actually consider her words and doubt my resolve to live an authentic life that is out of step with what most people consider a “normal” way to exist.
All my doubts disappear with one spark from a lesbian connection. Now, that’s power. Even in this hot summer weather, I still long for the heat from a lesbian spark. Nothing breathes life into my bones like the recognition I see in “her” eyes. I want to crawl in her skin and breathe in her essence, swaying with the rhythm of her gait while dancing to the beat of her heart.
Carpe romance when it appears at your door.