He found her at her worst.
Her hard exterior cracked, exposing her tender innards. She trembled when he came near and hesitated when he smiled. Her past acceptance of gentleness and kindness had caused her to lay her soul bare. It was certainly her soul that suffered the most when that gentleness and kindness slipped away to the place where sweet feelings go to die.
This approach was very different but smacked of more of the same. With shadowed memories crowding her mind, she changed her tact. She felt certain this could be different. This would be different.
After all, she was a changed SHE. And HE was certainly a different HE.
He found her at her worst and she strove to be her best. Now, she knew it was different. She did more for herself while with him. She wanted more for him. She dreamed bigger dreams, reached for higher peaks. In a twinkle of happiness, a flash of laughter, a burst of embraces, it was over.
He found her at her worst. And when he was done with her, he put her back where he'd found her.

And He Knew

The rain pelted the windows as the parking lot lights seemed to glare between the blinds. The wind screeched past, proclaiming the chill it would leave to greet them the next morning. He rolled onto his side and reached out in a gesture that had somehow become automatic. Every time he touched her, he still wondered how her skin was so soft. He’d showered with her; even used the same products, but she her skin was impossibly soft to the touch. He trailed his hand down her spine, testing to see if she was awake. He almost felt her smile in the dark as she rolled toward him. “Yes,” she queried. The single word dripped with the strangest combination of mirth and sensuality. She scooted closer to him bringing the heat that she literally seemed to radiate from her body. He wondered how someone who was always shivering from cold managed to give off so much heat. He kissed her forehead and caressed her cheek, enjoying the freedom to touch her at will. She lay still, curled in his arms as he ran his hand smoothly down the line of her body. Following her arm to her hip to her thigh, he paused to tickle the sensitive spot behind her knee. He loved to feel her squirm next to him and continued to tease her in these little ways. She giggled, releasing a short burst of minty breath onto him. He knew that she would never know much how he loved these moments with her. Her happiness was nearly tangible. And it warmed his heart in an inexplicable way. He smiled as he listened to her fuss about being unable to doze off, and moments later, he listened to her breathing become even as sleep claimed her. She never went willingly, but she always went quickly. He leaned away to look down at her sleeping face and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
And he knew it .  He loved her.

Sickening

My skin tingled as it cooled. He stood beside my bed, his shadow falling across my midsection as he shrugged into the shirt I’d hastily snatched from his body hours ago. “This isn’t working out,” he said. “This?” “Yeah,” he replied, “this. Us. We. It’s not working for me anymore.” I grunted, choosing not to speak than to spew the acidic words I was feeling. I sat up, pulling the sheet to cover my bare breasts. Some part of me would not allow me to be dismissed from his life while lying naked in the afterglow he’d created. I felt the warmth draining out of me. I climbed out of the bed, both irate and unsure of what to do now that I stood before him. Our juices trickled down my thighs, causing the sheet to stick to the intimate crevices he’d so ardently caressed moments before. A thrill ran down my spine, my attraction to him nearly overpowering my growing disgust. “What is it that suddenly isn’t working, Brian?” His gaze went blank, as it always did when he was confronted. His face was absolutely still; he didn’t attempt to look like he was thinking of an answer. He just shook his head and turned away. I felt something inside me deflate. Suddenly I felt wretched and cheap. I imagined this moment painted. A woman, clutching a sheet to her breasts, standing in the shadow of a man who no longer wanted her. Her face dejected as he gave her his back. Her shoulders trembling in an effort not to slump. The woman I imagined was me, and she was sickening. 

Things He Love(d)

He loved her lips. Truly, the credit was due to her mouth, although her lips were nothing to discount. He was fascinated by the constant motion. He would see her, sitting or standing utterly still and there it would be. A glimmer of action on her face. It made him smile just to think of it. He wondered if she knew she was doing it. No, he decided, definitely not.

He’d been so immersed in watching her mouth that he had only half-heard what she was saying. He watched as she paused and applied gloss to her lips. He laughed, poking gentle fun at her to cover his affection. “Now why would you need to make your lips stand out more?” He knew he certainly didn’t need any more excuses to look at them. She smirked, the corner of her mouth adding a curious twitch that intrigued him. “Boy, please,” she laughed, “you can look away if you have a problem with it.” It was as if she was reading his mind.

He eyed the beauty mark on her upper lip and fought the urge to run the pad of his thumb across it. Her silence marked the wait for a question he’d never heard. She shook her head, amused at his distractedness tonight. He was usually an avid listener, a pretend-reluctant participant in their roundabout conversations. He focused himself, really listened to what she was saying. He loved this game. He’d charm laughs out of her, waiting for his name, mingled with mirth roll from her tongue. Her eyes would sparkle in such a way that he had not recalled ever seeing before, piquing his curiosity to learn how deep the sparkle went.

Untitled

Her position was a strange one. When she thought about it, it was where she'd always been. She was popular, but somehow not. When she accepted an invitation others seemed glad to see her. But when she declined, she was not missed. It had always been that way. Co-workers, friends, even family. She'd resigned herself to this position, telling herself that it didn't matter. But in what had started as the smallest way, it mattered. And finally, it had come to matter very much.
But something paralyzed her. She found it unthinkable to ask how she'd come to this position. Frankly, she didn't even know how to formulate the question, let alone who to ask.
She felt an inexplicable emptiness and frequently took little social breaks, isolating as much as possible without causing alarm. Her closest friends began recognizing the breaks, welcoming her back with, "Been on intermission?" She was grateful for their acknowledgement, even if they didn't quite understand.

Reservations and Nightmares

“If I had some… reservations about my relationship and told you I wanted to try a relationship with you, what would you say?”

I hiccupped. He couldn’t have possibly said what my ears had heard, could he?

I almost laughed, but I was afraid of what the laugh might mean to him. And to me.

We’d been in a similar scenario before, years before. But then it had been a marriage proposal and as much as my being screamed for me to accept, my mind crawled to it’s knees and asked the logical question. Asked if the proposal was a symptom of watching one of his brothers take that walk down the aisle. My question broke the magic of the moment, and it was gone. Like the residue of a burst bubble it clung to me, to us, invisibly. Maybe that’s when I started to feel the change. But the question never came up again. And I still dream dreams dredged in regret that I hadn’t said what my heart had begged of me.

So, I stepped toward this new question lightly. I was terrified, trembling, and on the brink of tears thinking of all the things I should say, needed to say, and wanted to say. The real question was, how would I answer? How could I? Why hadn’t I seen this coming?

I was afraid to hope, but prayed none of these things were evident in my voice. He knew me too well, but his distraction with the asking of the question kept him from pointing out the elephant in the room.

“Uh, I don’t know.” I cleared my throat, hoping to ease the squeak. I needed time to think; to really think. About what had been, what hadn’t, what could.

But the scary part of me wondered, “What if it’s all a trick?” It really wasn’t fair to him that I wondered. He’d never given me a reason not to believe in him. Sure, I knew plenty of other people who probably shouldn’t trust him. But, me? No. He’d be honest with me to a fault. I’m sure there had been occasional lies to spare my feelings (though he denied them).

I wanted to cry. This moment represented years of hopes and dreams and love. But I’d never been so close to what I really wanted. Material gains mean nothing. Location is just what you see outside of your window, where you go to earn a paycheck, where you rest your head. I’d asked one thing of life. I’d asked for him. And here he was, quasi-offering himself to me.

“Why?”, I queried. I couldn’t help myself. If I told him the truth right away, I might not get a chance to ask later. I could hear the tired preparedness, the practiced nonchalance in his reply, “No reason. Just wondered.” It was a lie. I knew it and I was surprised. I knew he’d lied before, but to be caught in the boldness of such a lie. I struggled not to scoff in my disbelief. I could hear the people around him and knew the moment he’d chosen to ask the question was not a moment in which I could get my answers. I bubbled with curiosity as a small rage began to burn in my throat. But I swallowed it. Hard. Putting aside all the thoughts and feelings that were choking me, and bidding him a pleasant evening. I couldn’t sleep that night. And by the next morning, he knew it, too. I sulked silently for days. And then, I realized the only solution I had. I told the truth. Would I explore the possibility of a relationship with him? Absolutely. Not a single doubt in my heart or mind. I didn’t tell him that, of course. I just said it was a “highly probable yes.” I didn’t sleep any better for the rest of that week. I was practicing my patience in the most heartaching way. And then we began another week. No answers, no sleep on the horizon.

I was at work. It had become a struggle to even show up, let alone show the same enthusiasm for a job I actually I liked. Not hearing from him felt like a window shade had been pulled over my normally sunny outlook. My co-workers told jokes that could hardly produce a smile, let alone my usual peals of laughter. But I couldn’t explain to anyone, couldn’t admit to myself, that I’d dimmed my shine in protest of his lack of communication. I half-sulked through my work day, and forced cheeriness was even more difficult during my free time. Time that literally meant I was free to bury myself with questions and wonderings. I knew I had to get myself together, but part of me relished in the sulk, soaking it into myself for future reference.

I had just gotten home, grumbling to myself about nothing at all and flipping moodily through the mail. The only mail with my name on it had a vaguely familiar return address written in very familiar handwriting. The inexplicable semi-script that had written me nonsense notes and jokes and things of that ilk in the past. I carried the envelope, my bags, and myself up to my room where I sealed myself inside before opening the envelope. I told myself to be calm, that there were only so many things that could be in the envelope. But a tremor coursed through my hands as I opened the envelope to find a letter. I put it down and sighed. I was always a fan of writing. If I couldn’t get face-to-face contact I always preferred something in writing. I didn’t know if that’s why he’d decided to write, but my soul was touched just the smallest bit. I unfolded the sheaves of paper, pleased that he’d actually written and that there was more than one page.

I’d read both sides of the first page before coming anywhere close to what I’d been looking for. He was… saying so much to me. We’d always communicated well, but there had clearly been a lot that he’d never been able to tell me. I’d waited years to hear what he was now telling me. And now it meant nothing. An experimental notion to test waters he’d never meant to travel.

No idea how I got in this position. Again.

I dreamed a dream of you. It was a sweet dream... while it lasted. Sadly, I awoke to my nightmare... I miss you.

Soap Bubbles

A trail of soap bubbles trickled toward my navel as he dragged the washcloth over my breasts. I smiled, more to myself than at him, luxuriating in the feeling of being bathed. Of being bathed by him. Something about how tenderly he cared for me in the most intimate of ways. Standing in the shower, surrounded by drifts of steam, it felt like it was just the two of us. We didn’t even have to speak; he just nudged whatever body part he wanted or needed me to move. He pulled me against him, scrubbing my back in circles. If we’d been anywhere but the shower, the move might have been the beginning of a sexual interlude. But our showers were sacred, time we took just to appreciate each other’s bodies outside of sex.
I looked down at the top of his head as he kneeled to wash my nether regions. I literally felt my love for him washing over me, warmer, thicker, richer, and stronger that the water that rinsed me as he washed. I felt his words before he began to speak. “Lai.” He made my name sound like a question, and the lack of surety caught my attention. I hummed a response, maintaining my peace. “I think we should… pull back for a while.” I kept my face neutral as I felt the first pinch of pain. I hoped my voice was steadier than it felt, “Any particular reason?”

I couldn’t figure out what puling back might entail considering our current, uh, arrangement. We weren’t even dating casually. We were, however, having very serious, very frequent, very exclusive sex.

Too much time was trailing between my question and his answer. For a moment I wondered if I’d even asked it out loud. “No,” he finally answered, “I just thought we’d try something. That ok?”

It wasn’t, but I nodded my assent, anyway. He stood and hugged me, our skin slipping and sliding against the sudsy water between us. I leaned my head back to look at him as he murmured, “Don’t worry. We’re just trying something.” I wasn’t sure which of us he was trying to reassure, but I didn’t bother asking, either. He kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, my lips and my chin in the way he knew I loved. I smiled for him, just for him, and turned to rinse myself off, then him. That was the last shower we shared.

Three weeks later, he ended what we had and what we didn’t have. I cried for an eternity. Taking a shower could bring on a fresh batch of tears and launch me into a crying jag that could last for hours. I sometimes look back and ask myself what I’d done wrong. Had I loved him too hard, causing him to slip away rather than burst like a caught balloon? Was I too compliant, too willing to do whatever it took to keep us happy? Did I demand too little, offering my all and accepting the tiniest bit of him in return? Even now I find myself wondering these things. He long since moved on. Became attached to a woman he found more worthy of what he had to give, a woman I wanted to hate. And I, the believer in eternal endings and glorious goodbyes, hoped foolish hopes. Spent my time watching, waiting, dreaming, and thinking about soap bubbles.

Green Shirt

I saw him from the corner of my eye, body moving to the pulsing beat. I turned my head in his direction, keeping my gaze traveling while watching him the entire time. His green button down shirt blazed under his vest, while his sunglasses gleamed from the back of his head. Yes, the back of his head. Still, I was intrigued. His height and slender build fit my type, and his bright skin tone was icing on the cake. I kept my groove, exchanging comments with my girls and dancing as the rhythm moved me. As was my ritual when I was in the spot, I traveled the building, pausing in various spots to enjoy the atmosphere.

Despite my meanderings, I kept seeing him. I was unsure whether it was my group was following his, his group following mine, or simply kismet. In time the inevitable occurred, the two groups melding into one, gyrating and undulating to the throb of the music as the flashing lights made everything more mysterious and enticing. We talked (loudly), danced (mmm), laughed, wandered the city. Best of all, this man, no, these fellas were Southern gentlemen.

Where you from-What's your name- How old are you (Gotta keep an eye out for jail bait).

The classic leave behind- The hilarity of Jim Carrey- the blatant hating on celebrities and their damn cribs. Good times.

Offers for beverages (alcoholic and otherwise) and seriously JUMBO slices of pizza, toned down sexual overtures, genuinely good conversation and that almost imperceptible drawl.

Damn.
I didn't know how much I'd missed a good ol' country boy. Mmm, yes.

Shout out to the fruit of North Carolina, Western Carolina University (just heard of y'all), but definitely not them Panthers that got whooped by the Giants ;)

Liar, Liar

Everyone lies. Maybe not often, maybe for the "right" reasons. But it happens. Years ago I figured there were only two reasons for lying.

Reason #1: You are afraid of the consequences of the truth, either the ones that affect you or the person you're lying to.

Reason #2: You're too lazy to explain the truth.

Don't bother wondering. Yes, it includes all lies even the little white ones and the ones you tell to protect another's feelings or position.
Now I've explained this theory to quite a few people and get a lot of different reactions. But, most people were pissed. I'm sure they were trying to determine whether their last lie was the product of fear or laziness. *smirk*
I'd be lying if I said that I don't lie anymore. I definitely fall into the laziness arena although I did catch myself lying out of fear. I actually laughed aloud when I realized I was doing and then backtracked and told the truth. Still, I did start the lie so I guess it counts.

I guess you'll be thinking more on the next lie you tell, huh? Well, before you do that, tell me about the LAST lie you told :)

Marriage Question

I actually have a number (the number is 3) of blogs waiting for me to complete them, but this thing crossed my mind so... enjoy.

I sent an email a few months ago to a gaggle of people. It happened that I got 6 responses: 3 males, 3 females, and a mix of Christians and non. Just thought I'd share the demographics with you. Below you'll find the article (the link doesn't go directly to it anymore). The responses from folks who's opinions I respect are also below. (Kept anonymous, of course). Please feel free to add your thoughts.

Why Guys Marry Some Girls (but Not Others)

All men have a secret wedding checklist: five traits they look for in a woman that say she's worth walking down the aisle for. He won't pop the question without 'em.

By Beth Whiffen


It happens all the time: A guy spends months, even years, in a long-term relationship with a girl he really digs. But after dropping the I-don't-see-myself-ever- getting-married bomb, he suddenly turns around and ties the knot with a new chick. The factors that tip a dude from steady relationship to "till death do us part" seem like the ultimate unsolved mystery ... especially when you're in a solid LTR and aren't sure if your guy is even considering marriage.
It all comes down to some elusive qualities women have a hard time understanding but men are always on the lookout for, explains Willard Harley Jr., Ph.D., author of I Promise You: Preparing for a Marriage That Will Last a Lifetime. "Part of what makes him want to get married is chemistry and passion, but it's also about certain actions and behaviors that are more concrete than you'd think," says Harley. Below, we clue you in to five crucial traits that separate the girls men date from the ones who make them want to set a date.

Tie-the-Knot-Trait 1: She's Exciting and Always Evolving

You know how every season finale of your favorite TV show ends with a million unanswered questions and you can't freaking wait for the next one? Well, a girl can give her guy that same thrilling mix of exhilaration and anticipation by surprising him.
"She does this by being spontaneous and a little unpredictable, taking on new interests all the time, and revealing different facets of herself," explains Alon Gratch, Ph.D., author of If Love Could Think. By never letting life get static, this woman busts the myth that being married means feeling humdrum. "She makes being with her an adventure, as if there's always a new
idea or activity just around the bend," says Gratch.

"With most of my girlfriends, I feared that we'd run out of things to talk about if we spent too much time together. But when I met my fiancée, Gwen, I kept discovering new layers to her. One day she came home from work with a stack of cookbooks; the next week she told me stories about how she loved designing outfits in high school. She's full of small surprises." —Brett, 29

"I dated a lot of girls who liked pushing boundaries, but it all seemed a little forced. My wife's sense of adventure, however, comes from within. She's naturally driven to challenge herself by trying new things. That's the kind of girl you want to marry. If you aren't continually fascinated by each other, it won't last." —Rob, 38

"The thing that makes my fiancée so captivating: She takes risks. I don't mean she bungee jumps off bridges. It's more that when a new opportunity comes along — a different facet to her job or the chance to meet new people at an event or party — she grabs it and proceeds. Her boldness makes her enchanting." —Bob, 27

Tie-the-Knot-Trait 2: She Really, Really Loves Sex

No big shocker here — a chick who enjoys twisting the sheets will always have a hopping social life. But when a woman makes the effort to have really connected sex that involves both body and mind, she goes from great girlfriend to marriage material in his view.
"Men crave sex that's erotic, but they also want sex that makes them feel deeply bonded," says Gratch. In other words, it's not all about wowing a guy with pretzel-like positions; a big part of having amazing booty is paying close attention to his mind-set and moods during the deed so sex reaches a higher, almost spiritual level.
Another thing that makes them think of the M word: when a woman is actively committed to keeping the passion on high boil. "A guy's biggest fear is that the great sex that made him think you were The One will fall by the wayside," explains Douglas Weiss, Ph.D., author of The 7 Love Agreements: Decisions You Can Make on Your Own to Strengthen Your Marriage. "A woman who puts effort into maintaining that sizzle is a dream come true."

"To make sure that the awesome sex we had when we first met didn't lose its passion, my wife came up with this idea for regular ‘sex bets.' For example, she'd bet me that I couldn't make her climax several times in a row, or I'd challenge her to initiate action in a semipublic spot. We have never fallen into a rut, and our competition keeps us feeling connected." —Jamie, 30

"My fiancée did this terrific thing when we first started having sex: After we were finished, she'd tell me how good I made her feel, that she really liked how I felt against her skin. It made me want to tell her what I liked too. Guys aren't supposed to admit it, but opening up about how sex affects us emotionally actually enhances the physical side of things." —Paul, 28

"My fiancée was up-front from the start about her desire for an extremely satisfying sex life; she never had any hang-ups about taking charge in bed or proposing out-there activities that a lot of women would be afraid to admit they were curious about. I could tell I wasn't getting ensnared in the classic bait-and-switch marriage that so many guys fall into — you know, when the action slows to a halt a year after you become husband and wife." —Russ, 34

Tie-the-Knot-Trait 3: She Makes It Clear He's Not Her Entire Life

It's flattering to a guy to realize that his girl thinks the world of him, but it's less appealing when he gets the impression that he is her world. That's why a girlfriend who retains her independence and sense of self, even as the relationship takes a serious turn, has definite wife appeal.
"A woman who depends on a man for her sense of fulfillment is a scary thing for a guy," says Gratch. "Men don't want to feel smothered or totally responsible for their partner's day-to-day happiness." The guy ideal: a chick who views coupledom as a solid partnership in which both she and her man still have separate identities.

"Before we were married, Jess would go out with her group of friends a lot, which I later became a part of. But she didn't put all of her focus on me. She made it clear that she was there to hang out with them. I really liked the fact that she wasn't the type of girl who ditches her girlfriends when she meets a guy. It made me confident that she'd always have her own life outside our relationship." —Sam, 33

"She definitely makes time for me so we can do things as boyfriend and girlfriend, but my fiancée also keeps up her own life. She has a weekly dinner with college friends, an art class every Thursday night, plus the responsibilities of her job as a journalist. I like that she doesn't check with me first to see what I want to do and she doesn't offer to bail out of an event or night out with pals in favor of always being with me." —Charles, 35

Tie-the-Knot-Trait 4: ...Yet She Still Conveys How Very Important He Is to Her

Okay, so men dig independent chicks. But there's a fine line between being independent and acting aloof and detached. Guys settle down with a woman who regularly reveals her tender side and shows him that no matter what happens, she's got his back.
"Men view life as a struggle or war that they're fighting, and they want someone who'll be on their side at all times, through thick and thin," says Gratch. "This doesn't mean that a woman should mother him or assist him with every little detail of his life; it's more about consistently doing small, nurturing things that let him know you really care."
A couple of examples: Bringing him a treat when he tells you he isn't feeling well or complimenting his brilliance after he finishes a stressful work project. "These gestures are tiny, but they reassure a man that his girl is solidly on his team," says Gratch.

"When we first started becoming a serious couple, my fiancé accepted a new job that required a lot of travel and attention. Still, even from hotels across the country, she took the time to call and check in on how my day was going and e-mail me little messages. She even stocked my refrigerator with beer and sandwiches before she'd leave on another trip. Her concern and thoughtfulness helped push our relationship to a higher level." —David, 28

"Every so often, my in-laws and I will get into an argument. But from the very first one, my wife has always respectfully defended me, and this made me want to be with her forever. She loves her parents and values their opinions, of course, and she and I don't always see eye to eye. Yet no matter what the issue is, she still lets her family know that she's sticking by me. This is a big thing for guys. I know it sounds ridiculous, but men tend to see themselves as misunderstood lone wolves."-Alan, 30

Tie-the-Knot-Trait 5: She Wants Him to Be the Best Man He Can Be

Men don't secretly want their girlfriends to bark orders at them like a drill sergeant. It's more about helping him reach his potential by actively supporting his goals, even pushing him a teensy bit so he can succeed in whatever he does.
"Young guys tend to try to get away with as little as possible, and a lot of women let them, thinking that it would be out of line to challenge their man," says Harley. "But a man admires a woman who encourages him to shape up and toe the line ... as long as she has his best interests in mind and isn't trying to mold him."
This also means calling his bluff and not letting him get away with slacking off. "Even though it might seem like tough love at the time, she helps him achieve and accomplish things, and deep down he appreciates her for that," says Harley.

"Before we got engaged, the woman who is now my fiancé told me that she thought I was drinking too much, working too hard, and not taking care of myself. Ouch. But when I actually took in what she said, I knew that she was right and she was looking out for me. No other girlfriend had ever been so honest." —Ryan, 29

"I wasn't on speaking terms with my father for years, and when I told my girlfriend this and that I just didn't care about having a relationship with him anymore, she didn't nod sympathetically. She made me call him and work things out because she knew I'd eventually regret it if I didn't. She had the guts to disagree with me about something most women wouldn't want to get involved in." —Shawn, 31
____________________________________________________________________

RESPONSES

1. "this is basic calm and sense on how to keep a man or marry him ... we as human beings are too complex to be subjected down to just 5 points or x amount of chapters in a book... The same way God works in mysterious ways well we were created in his image so its only fair to say we to are mysteries. So to tell you the truth your list of how to marry a man or women should be narrowed down to one thing. Do they know And love God... Because he represents all those things on that 5 point list and more.... but just to announce that you know and love him will eliminate huge stupid lists and help you to decide for yourself if that person is right for you" -Guy 1

2. "The article is valid but what feedback are you looking for?I think it's a new day for women to be spontaneous without being fast...a 21st century thinker with 20th century values and morals....a mover and a shaker who will stand by her man.... Think of what you'd like in a person and try being that person....challenging....." -Gal 1

3. "I don't think all men would agree with this list. It sounds like something straight out of Cosmo from 1997, that you pick up at the dentist office when you're waiting to be seen. I personally think Freud was dead on when it came to relationships and childhood. I think most men, whether they are willing to admit to it or not are looking for "mom" or they want to be "mothered." If they had a negative experience with mom, or the mom figure, they are going to spend their lives looking for a woman who can be the "perfect" mom in their eyes or if they had a positive experience, they want a woman who is exactly like her--sometimes down to her physical traits. No man wants to marry a whore, so saying things like, "oh I want her to be a freak" is nonsense. They don't even want their wives, for the most part, to be that skilled in bed. It's good to spice things up but when the wife is asking them if they want to use a dildo instead, they run for the hills.

I've noticed that when a man spends a long time with you in a committed LTR, then he leaves you and marries the next woman he comes across, that new woman either looks like you, or has most or all of your traits. It seems that if something negative happened between the two of you, he can't get past it and wants a more "perfect" form of you.

Not all men are bad and when it's right, it's right 110%. Sometimes women have to notice signs and signals that he isn't going to take the relationship to the next level and have that discussion. Just so neither spend years, wasting time and energy in a relationship that won't get off the ground. Everyone deserves to be happy and will find that right mate, they just need to spend the time building the confidence to walk away when it's not right and stand up for the important stuff. Tyler Perry actually has a great quote, it's from one of his plays--"Media Goes to Jail," I think. I'm paraphrasing but the jist of it was learning to let people go and how your life is like a tree. There are many branches and a number of roots and we have to learn that some branches need to be pruned every so often, i.e. letting people go, and that some branches will produce fruit or leaves. It's a great quote when I come across it again, I'm going to make copies and post it everywhere. " -Gal 2

4."It's about time that we stopped looking for answers in all the wrong places. Man never had the answers and never will have the answers. Trying to satisfy a man in order to have what he is looking for to become his wife is quite ridiculous. While we all may fall short and listen to the "gurus" and "experts"... truth is they really have no idea aout what they are talking about. When you want to know about your car you read the manual and speak to someone who is knowledgeable. We as a people were given domion over animals and not man. We sometimes do not fully understand ourselves let alone another person. A woman's heart should be soo lost in God, that a man has to find God in order to find her and vice versa. Let's stop trying to be perfect for him and redefine our relationship with God and be in complete love with him first and ALLL these things will be added unto us! Hope this is beneficial"
-Gal 3

5. "I think that this article is very accurate. The questions vary, but those 5 tips will help you go very very far. If a girl did all of those things, it would make me consider her for a wife. I like the bullet around wanting your man to be his best. Not the picture that you have in your head of his best, but HIS best. I normally think most articles like this are supperficial bull shit, but I resonate with this one. Thanks for sharing" -Guy 2

6. "I think these are pretty general attributes that any man wants in a good woman. I guess I agree. I haven't seen anything in there too out of touch with reality." -Guy 3

Cravings

"Have you ever craved someone so bad you could feel your heartbeat still... and they didn't crave you back?" -Darnella Ford

Hoped

I had hoped the day we’d prayed against would come.

I’d hoped that forever saw an end, and we’d stand before it, smiling sad smiles that said “just a while” but meant “never again.”

I had hoped your face would go dull in my mind’s eye.

I’d hoped my memory would stumble and I might forget altogether.

I had hoped that you would fade into that place where sweet memories go, only to bubble up when times are murky and hard. When I need my spirit lifted by past joys because I can’t see any in the future.

I’d hoped you were replaceable.

Just another voice. Another smile. Another laugh. Another hug.

I had hoped all these things in the depth of my heart, where I knew happiness would not last.

And while I hoped, I dared to dream against myself. What kind of fool am I?

Wonderings

I saw her pictures. That girl he keeps assuring me is just a friend. The one he has to call for birthdays or random memories in the middle of the night, despite the fact that he's lying next to me. What could I say? He's known her years before he met me. But now this.
Her face, her body, her smile parading on the computer screen. Other people, too. But so many are of her. How many is too many pictures of an opposite sex friend? When does the molehill become a mountain?
This from the man who holds me tight, warms me from the cold, looks me deeply in my mind as if he's reading my soul. Does he talk to her during the witching hours of the night, allowing her voice to caress him like hands? Does he daydream about her while he's with me? Does he wish I was her?
Does my wondering so much mean I've already decided, and just don't know it?

She Said

I was sitting in the middle of my bed, legs crossed, trying to concentrate on the book I was reading. I probably should have been studying for the test I would be having the next day, but my mind was craving some real fiction (yes, real fiction) and I refused give it statistics in lieu of it's true want.
Try as I might, I couldn't focus on the book. One of my roommates was chatting not so quietly with her boyfriend while another was talking to me. Was the open book in my hands not an indication that I'd rather not listen to either of them? Well, I'd chosen to have two roomies; one on the left and one one the right. So this must be my punishment for not thinking things all the way through.
Evidently Right-Side roomie said something I was supposed to respond to, because there was a pregnant pause. Actually, the moment was quieter than it ought to have been. I looked at Left-Side roomie and she was looking at me, too. What had been said that I'd missed while purposely ignoring them both?
"Sorry, what," I asked.
Left-Side roomie ended her phone call and rolled over to join in the conversation. Man, it must've been a doozy.
"I said,"continued right-side,"you only want him because he's taken. If he were single, you wouldn't look at him twice. You're just one of those kinds of girls. You'll always want someone else's man and he'll never be yours."
I sat perplexed. "Wait, what?" I couldn't have heard what my brain was telling me I had. But I had, because she repeated it again and much more slowly.
A million cutting words slipped to the edge of my tongue and I inhaled in preparation to slice into Right-Side as if I'd been saving up my entire life for this moment. Left-Side interjected quickly,"You don't know what the hell you're talking about."
That was all it took to bring me back to the reality of the moment. This girl didn't know me. She didn't know the guy in reference. And she didn't know anything about our relationship except that we knew each other and talked a lot.
Still. Those words burned into my memory. What did it say about me that someone who didn't really know me thought such unsavory things about my personality? Could it be that she could see something in me that I didn't know was there? No, no. Of course not. I was being ridiculous. But it still hurt.
But I did start keeping a close eye on myself. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but that's what I did. Time passed, and my feeling were... well, to put it gently, unrequited. It wasn't sweet, but it could have been worse. He ended relationships, he was single, he began new relationships and I cared all the while. Sometimes I'd wonder if I kept caring just to prove that it wasn't just a passing fancy or a need to have what someone else did. Nothing ever did become of him and me. But I wasted a lot of time watching myself love someone crushingly. What entertainment...
And all because of some idiocy she said.

Fairy tale Lies?

I was never the girl who believed her life would be a like the fairy tales. I didn't identify with the princesses in the stories. And why should I? My daddy didn't run a country; just our house.
All I ever wanted out of life was to be happy. Not that Cinderella happy that just happens because you're that good. For one, I just wasn't that good. I was OK, I guess, but not that movie princess good. I mean, who's that good, anyway? So I never hoped for the easy, no-work, happily ever after. Then I met HIM.
I'd met lots of guys. I expected no more from him than any of the ones I already knew. Really, I expected less. Three months into college had made me a pre-jaded young woman; wary of more than I'd like to admit. But I guess that just show how life really can be like a fairy tale: Things are never quite what they seem or what you expect.
With HIM, the proverbial shoe fit. HE made me feel like royalty. Like I was more than the wonderful I already considered myself to be. It was a heady feeling. To be more than you imagined means you can let down guards, break down walls, and give access. All of these I did. I could finally share my hopes, dreams, trepidations, and fears. I could laugh or cry freely without ever feeling judged. I could curl into a ball, rock myself out of pain and into sleep, and HE'd be beside me when I awoke, rubbing my back and whispering reassurances. Frightening how free I became, how open. With HIM I was literally without guile or malice. How could I be? To be accepted completely allows you to accept others completely. It was never fairy tale easy. If it were, it probably wouldn't be worth having. But it was glorious, memorable, and inexplicably...sharp.
Years after I was too old to believe in fairy tales I saw a spark of truth. I saw what my girlfriends saw when they were watching those movies that are, today, proclaimed to be liars.
Who knew? The little girl who never believed in fairy tales would grow into a woman who was living one.

Untitled

My writinG bearS your name, yet thoSe who read it Still wonder.
I lay awake at night, makinG conSCiouS effort not to think of you. I pray for Sleep and as it Sweeps to Claim me, I CrinGe at the prospect of dreaminG of you. But I will dream. I alwayS do.
MomentS where I miGht forGet, where I miGht walk away with love and pain behind me, do not Come.

I inhale and your SCent iS on the breeze. I CloSe my eyeS and your Smile iS behind my eyelidS. I Swallow and I Can taSte you. I feel you when there is nothinG beneath my handS but air, and your voiCe trickleS into everythinG my earS hear. My memorieS, my thouGhts of the future, my every moment iS themed around you. WaS there no me before there waS an uS?

There'S no one left with whom to talk. No one left who haSn't attempted to Carry my heart'S burden and found it too heavy, too Sharp, too Slippery, or juSt plain too much. It'S too much to Share but I Carry it alone. Every day, without pauSe.
I Can't be helped and I Can't help myself.

The End of a Story

And so it ends.
No more tears left to cry. No more words left to say.
There's just no more.
Now that there's just you and me. Now that there's no us. I have nothing left.
No use for the sweet memories I've stock piled. No place to store the notes, cards, and other tangibles. No one with whom to share secret glances and inside jokes. No warm body to cuddle into. No irritations to soothe and fights to make up. No one to cook for. No one to wash dishes with. No one to fold laundry with. No one pounce on, to complain about, to praise, or to give me butterflies.
I have nowhere to put the love that wasn't ready to be over. Nothing to do with the plans and visions of the future.
And so it ends.

Solamente Hasta Finales Del Tiempo

I saw my life in HIS eyes. Of all the people I've encountered, I've only ever seen my future in the eyes of one. I'd never admit it to HIM and if pressed, I'd actively deny it. But there has only been HIM.
HIM waiting for me to walk up the aisle. HIM walking me back down. HIM gleefully announcing "our" pregnancy. HIM gripping my hand, whispering encouragement and little jokes, as our children are born. HIM cooking meals, cleaning house, disciplining children... and all with me. HE was my partner and my complement. It was with HIM I saw myself becoming an empty-nester and discovering wrinkles and gray hairs. With HIM my home would be filled with love and warmth; I'd feel safe. HIS eyes told me we'd sit in rocking chairs, just remembering. That we'd experience grandchildren. HIS eyes told me my future would be all I'd dreamed and so much more. Seeing all that warmed my heart, quickened my pulse, sweetened my voice and lifted my soul. I knew without a doubt, regardless of all else, that my future lay with HIM.
But then HE blinked. And I saw nothing at all.

Wasted Wish

A twilight memory, on a cool night.

A shooting star, in an unlit sky.

Whispered words, breezing warmly into my ear.

The warmth, the gentle firmness, the inexplicable moment.

Closed my eyes, held my breath, prayed my prayer. And wished.

I wish I’d wished for one more day. One more kiss. Or one more hug.

Perhaps a wish for eternal joy or everlasting peace; for the patience that I still need to build. For the fortitude to withstand what was to come.

Maybe I ought to have wished for tomorrow to never come. And forever to be real.

Instead I wished for perfection. Now I have nothing.