Here’s a look at me and Mr. C in the beginning. Trying to navigate the dating world by surrending to a nice man. Find out what I thought about him.
Source: He Loves Intimacy
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Tag: #romance
Rhythmic
She listened to the rhythmic beating of the steel drums. It was both deep and powerful. She could feel herself moving to the rhythm. She got up to dance.
Back and forth she sashayed her hips in slow motion. The sweat dripping down between her breasts. The music made her feel better. She forgot how good it felt to dance.
To dance away her troubles. She had so much trouble. She needed a reprieve. On this island where no one knew her. She could be free.
Free to breathe. Free to dance.
Each beat of the drum seemed to propel her into a space of pure euphoria. She was dancing away her problems.
The beat was both exotic and tempting.
Michael watched her in slow motion.
He wanted her.
He felt the longing not just in his loins but in his heart.
He could see she was beautiful and fragile. Life had been hard on her. She moved like a skilled dancer. Her hips were hypnotizing him. He needed her.
Approaching slowly from behind Michael pressed his body to her. She moved into him. He smelled her sweet scent. Lilac. He loved that smell.
He rocked with her and swayed to the beat. Nothing but heat between them and sweat rolling down their bodies. They were as one.
He whispered “I know what you’re running from.”
This post is inspired by the Daily Post. The word was rhythmic.
Random: The Lost Ones
Do you ever wonder about your relationships that have ended? I’m not talking about just romantic relationships. I’m talking about all relationships. Male and female. Friendships and/or relationships. Does it bother you that you’re no longer friends or do you accept that they served their purpose and it’s time to move on?
My Relationship Status Doesn’t Validate My Opinion – Part I
Ya’ll know I’m a feminist right? I’ve talked about it. I’m also a woman who is in love with this great guy. However, having Mr. C in my life doesn’t validate my opinions on relationships. He is a man and I’m a woman. Both of us have opinions and I am not defined by his existence in my life. Nor will you validate my opinions because he and I are together.
Now, I know you’re probably wondering what’s got my panties in a bunch, so let me tell you…On Saturday, I was at the hair salon and we had a very lively conversation. My hairstylist has both hair stylists and barbers in her salon so you get to have the “male/female” responses to those intriguing questions. There were many topics discussed and one was about money and dating. As always there were opinions on both sides.
However, the question was asked “If I make $65,000, how much less can a man I’m dating make?” The women responded in earnest with the majority saying $50,000. I responded $55,000. The woman who asked the question then asked me “So, he can’t make less than $10,000 than you?” I responded “Yes.”
The conversation in the shop went back and forth about dating and a man said “Why do women ask for stuff they are not bringing to the table?” I told him, that I didn’t know those women. I bring what I ask to the table and I expect the same. So, the question was asked if you made $100,000 would you date a man that made $10,000?
Umm, nope.
Would you? I mean unless he’s in graduate school and only working the summers and holidays why would I date a man that is financially dependent on me? I’m not talking marriage. I’m talking the dating stage. I meet you and you meet me and you want to go out for an undetermined amount of time to see if we could build a relationship.
Dating. Not marriage. Dating.
So, the conversation took an interesting turn when one woman said that she would take that $10,000 he made and turn it into $500,000 in a year. I responded “Not legally you won’t.” I wasn’t about illegal activity or flipping money because I knew that I wouldn’t date a man making $10,000.
She then comes over and asks me do I have a man? I and my hair stylist responded yes. She asked, “How long have you two been going out?” I told her that we’ve dated a year. She then asked “Are you going to get married?” I told her “Someday. I’m not ready to get married anytime soon and we’ve talked about it. We’re in no rush. We’ve both been there and done that.” She then pauses.
She tells me that she will never get married because she fears the ability to be faithful. I listened and said “Women should be allowed to choose whether they will marry or reproduce without explaining their selves to anyone. Your life and your choice.”
But, it dawned on me that she only asked the question of whether or not I have a man to try and prove me wrong. If I didn’t have a man that would be proof that my dating standards for salary are too high. Maybe if I dated a man that made $10,000 a year I could be happy.
Why do people try to sell you this lie?
Fairy Tales
I can remember stories, those things my mother said
She told me fairy tales, before I went to bed
She spoke of happy endings, then tucked me in real tight
She turned my night light on, and kissed my face good night
My mind would fill with visions, of perfect paradise
She told me everything, she said he’d be so nice
He’d ride up on his horse and, take me away one night
I’d be so happy with him, we’d ride clean out of sight
She never said that we would, curse, cry and scream and lie
She never said that maybe, someday he’d say goodbyeThe story ends, as stories do
Reality steps into view
No longer living life in paradise – or fairy tales-Anita Baker Fairy Tales
I think a lot of women grow up believing in Fairy Tales. Not just the Disney one’s but the ones our friends, family and society try to weave for us. You know that fairy tale that love is all about roses, horses and being saved by your prince. Love is Perfection. Love and marriage = happy endings.
Well, if you’ve discovered my blog, you know that I don’t believe that. I’m here to tell you the truth…life just doesn’t work that way. There is no perfect person. No perfect ending. No fairy tale for you to believe in. Relationships take work. A lot of hard work and determination to put forth your best effort.
Many of us don’t put forth our best effort. We may say we do, but in reality we are selfish in relationships. We do what we want and say what we want and still expect the other person to just deal with it. Sound familiar to any of you?
I love Anita Baker and when I was going through a painful period in my divorce this song would be on replay. These words spoke to the state of where my mind was: She never said that we would, curse, cry and scream and lie. Dang. I felt that. I couldn’t understand how we got to that point. The point where it all fell apart and I sat looking at the broken pieces of glass on the floor and seeing my soul reflected in them.
That was some painful sh*t. I had to realize that the dream of marriage wasn’t what it was cut out to be. It was a lot more than just parties, great sex and travel. It was two people trying to make something work that they had no idea about. We couldn’t both be selfish.
We had our first big argument on our honeymoon. I thought it was a sign. Who the hell argues on their honeymoon? I cried. I felt alone. I wanted an annulment. Yes, I was acting like a spoiled brat but I was believing in fairy tales. When did you ever see the Prince yelling at Cinderella?
That disillusioned followed me through my marriage. He was not my prince saving me. He was the boogeyman. I was putting my own irrational restrictions on him. I didn’t need saving. It wasn’t his job to save me. I was imagining him being something that he wasn’t. But, here’s the kicker…I didn’t even tell him that I had all these unrealistic expectations of him.
I expected him to know what he should be. Now, we all know that men say that they aren’t mind readers, yet here I was trying to make this man read my mind. I wanted him to guess the role he was supposed to play and just play the dang role. I didn’t want the man that he was, but the one who would slay dragons and make everything better for me. I would be unhappy and wonder when would my prince arrive? Why wasn’t he here? When would he show up. He never did.
LOL. I told ya’ll I was tripping, right? I was disillusioned. But, it’s true. I own my part in my own unhappiness.
So, what I’ve learned is that I had to change my mindset. Think about who I am and what I bring to the table. Take that and decide what I wanted. Do a needs assessment. Stop believing in fairy tales and figure out me.
Stop looking for someone to rescue me and look for someone who would be loyal. Someone who would support my dreams and make me believe that even after we argue that we will still love and respect one another. Someone who wouldn’t curse me out or lie to me. Someone who would see this flawed woman standing before him and love each and every scar. Someone who I could do the same with.
There’s no fairy tale when you make your expectations known and attainable. It’s no fairy tale when you truly just want a wonderful human being to love you just as you are. If that happens, trust me you can make magic.
First Love
We were young. Falling in love as children. Trying to be adults. We loved without a true understanding of the word. We existed in this place between fantasy and reality. I would move on. Grow. Have other experiences. You would too. But, we still found our way back to each other. Weaving in and out of each other’s lives like an intricate pattern. Not too close, but never far away.
To say that we had each other’s back would be an understatement. We were and would always be the glue in each other’s lives. Through marriages, divorce and children we only got older and stayed closer. Teetering with the idea that we could one day make a relationship where there had never been one was a fantasy. We were adults. We had real issues and real problems. You hated that I let stuff upset me. I hated the fact that you didn’t see my pain.
We stood with an invisible wall between us. Touching it. Wondering how we could demolish it. But, we couldn’t. Love wasn’t enough. I loved you. You loved me. I wanted more. You didn’t. So, I let you go in my heart. Let my feelings dissipate like long lost memories in a sand storm. I longed for something you just couldn’t give. In my longing and in my leaving I learned that I am stronger and that I shouldn’t have to sacrifice my needs for yours. Friends don’t always make the best lovers and lovers don’t always make the best friends.
Good-bye.
Emailing that Dang Death to Love Man
Okay, so here’s the deal…
You can’t treat me like I’ve stolen your puppy or run over your foot in my car. Why are you acting like I destroyed you? I told you how I felt when we last spoke and my world forever changed. Without any thought to how I feel or what I’m going through, you act like you’re hurt. Are you really going to say that you are the victim here? Do you know or even care how I feel? I told you that I needed space and time because I knew the rules of this situationship when we met. I knew. But, somehow I couldn’t stay within my lane and I caught feelings. I wasn’t trying too. I was trying to take it for what it was. Casual dating.
I told you last week that my spirit was in turmoil and that I wasn’t sleeping or eating because I knew it was time I got off this merry go round. I was a wreck this weekend and I kept breathing and saying, “I need to take this one day at a time”. One second becomes one minute which becomes one hour until I can make it through the day. I told my friends that I did the impossible and ended it with you. I told them that it hurts. They replied, “I know, but I love you and it will get easier.”
I told my family that I had fallen in love with someone who I wasn’t ready to introduce to them but we broke up. I said, “He doesn’t love me and I can’t breathe because it hurts like hell.” My sister replied for me to repeat after her “We don’t love them ho*s”. I laughed with tears in my eyes and sighed, “But, I do.” My mother told me, “Baby, I’m sorry, but I never thought I would survive your break up at 15 when you overdosed on pills and slit your wrists. Hell, I never thought you would survive it. But, you did. If you could survive that you can survive anything.” I told her, “I know I will survive. It just hurts like hell.”
Again, I wallowed in my pain and bathed in my heartache praying for peace. My plea to you to stop calling me wasn’t because I don’t want to be your friend or be in your life. It was because I don’t have the strength to stop talking to you. Because I’m weak. I want to know how you’re doing. I want to hear your voice and know that you are okay. I want to laugh about stupid stuff or whatever. It’s my problem. I know. I’m not blaming you. I just need time to get my head on straight and be able to truly be your friend without having these feelings for you. I owe it to myself to choose me first.
So, I will do what I do best and journal my pain. I wish only the best for you and know that you are in my prayers and thoughts always. Only time can heal this chasm of pain.
