Tag Archives: love

No Apologies

The best way to fall in love is without fear. You close your eyes and you let it take over you and lead you. You fall so hard and so fast, you feel like years have passed by when indeed it’s only been months.

But there’s a risk with that.

Like jumping out of a plane, sometimes your parachute doesn’t open.

That’s what I’ve been feeling like the last few days. I took that leap, my parachute didn’t open, and now that I’ve landed, I’ve been left broken. Broken body, broken soul, and a broken heart.

I’m not going to pretend like everything is good. I’ve ended a toxic relationship, yes, but that doesn’t make me happy. My friends say, “Well it’s great that you’re doing this now, rather than years later.”

If it’s so great, why doesn’t it feel that way?

Why can’t I let go of this anger? Why can’t I release these tears that have been building up? Why can’t I do anything else besides think of him and hope that he’s just as miserable and broken hearted as I am?

Is it so bad to want to feel like you meant something to someone? That your presence in their life was so significant that they’ll always compare everyone else to you? That when they’re lying in bed at night, trying to go to sleep, that they’ll think of you and wonder how you are?


Delete and Restart

“We haven’t talked in days. Does this mean we’re breaking up or we’re taking time apart?” I asked him in a text.

“I don’t really know. I’m not feeling too good today. I had too much of Charlie’s homemade plum wine last night.”

“I’ve been back and forth on the idea. We both deal with stress in unhealthy ways. But when we’re both happy, we’re good,” I said. “At least that’s what I think. I don’t know what you think.”

“Do what you think is good for you. I told you I’m not feeling good. If I want to talk about it, it’ll be tomorrow. Thanks.”

I hit a brick wall with him again. I’ve been hitting a lot of brick walls with him. I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to get anywhere. He was a 46 year old man with the emotional age of a 5 year old boy.

“Actually that kinda sounds like an answer to me,” I said. “Take care.”

Those were my last words to him. He had turned cold and unresponsive within a span of days. I realized I had put myself out on an emotional ledge, only to find that I was standing there all by myself.

I proceeded to delete him. I removed him from my address book. I deleted our chat history. I wanted no trace of him left. I didn’t want to leave any room for any second thoughts about what I was choosing to do.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I was so frustrated, so angry with myself. How could I have fallen in love so quickly and so deeply with someone who was a completely immature, selfish, narcissistic psychopath? How could I have let this man into my life? I will never know or understand.

That Girl

“Kristine? She sits over there in the corner by the windows.” It was just after lunch and I had been sitting at my desk when I happened to notice, out of the corner of my eye, coworkers on the other side of the office pointing in my direction.

“Oh I see, you guys put the minorities all the way in the back corner,” followed by laughter. It was a voice I’d become familiar with over the past 3 months. He had that unmistakable deep, booming voice with the west Texas drawl. There he appeared from around one of the columns. He was smiling that handsome smile of his, dressed in jeans, his leather riding jacket, and a blue bandana wrapped around his head.

“Baby,” I said. It came out of my mouth almost instictively, completely forgetting that my coworkers were nearby. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” he said, giving me a big hug. “I heard there was some holiday that everyone was making a big deal about. Valentine’s day or something?”

And with that, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a pink envelope and a brown teddy bear with a heart attached to its chest. “Awww, honey…” I said, totally and completely surprised.

My coworkers, who had stopped what they were doing to watch, chimed in and started doing their ironic clapping. “Oh stop it!” Brian said, waving them away. I couldn’t stop giggling. Had I been able to show any level of blushing, I probably would have been bright red. In all my life, I’ve never been surprised the way he surprised me that day. That afternoon I became that woman in the office who’s boyfriend paid a surprise visit to her at work bearing Valentine’s gifts. Before meeting him, I didn’t have any notable romantic stories to share with my girl friends. No tales of butterflies, of arguments, laughter, passionate makeup kisses, and surprises like this one. But here I was, and I’ve lived through all of it in the past 3 months.

The teddy bear smelled like him, he said. He had sprayed some of his favorite cologne on it so I brought it up to my nose and I sniffed it. Yes, it smelled exactly like him–cool and masculine. I smiled up at him, “Thank you,” I said, kissing him, totally not caring that my coworkers were still there. “I love it.”

I did. I loved it. I love him. And he loves me.

Mr. Right vs. Mr. Right Now

When I first started dating, I had a list of criteria I was looking for: single, no younger than me yet no more than 10 years older, financially stable with a job, enjoys good food and good company, etc.

But then I actually began the process and suddenly all of that was thrown out of the window.

One of the first guys I met pretty much hit all of my criteria (and blew it out of the water in fact). He was incredibly brilliant, courageous, amazingly driven, tall and good looking with blue eyes and a nice build. At the same time he was demanding, bossy and domineering. These were characteristics that normally I wouldn’t tolerate, but for some reason, I loved being under his spell. He was my Christian Grey. He was a great kisser, he was assertive and passionate in bed. Our chemistry was astounding. He made me feel sexy for the first time in my life (in fact it was the first thing he said to me when we met) and he pulled me out of my emotional coma, coaxing me into taking risks that ultimately paid off with memorable experiences. I can honestly say he was unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

But as quickly as he swept into my life, he was gone. He was a workaholic–his many lucrative businesses demanded his attention 24/7, which left none for me. And so I had to say goodbye. It was bittersweet, and yet I would do it all over again if given the chance.

And then I went out on a date with a not-so-promising candidate. He was nice, but he was out of work, and honestly a little creepy now that I think of it. He wasn’t attractive. He kept suggestively talking about my pictures (“I like your slender calves…” he said). And all throughout dinner, he kept staring holes at me, pressing his knee up against my leg, and suggesting he come home with me. I had worn the unsexiest outfit I could think of–knee length boots, black leggings, and a blue turtleneck sweater–and yet he couldn’t stop complimenting me, saying how hot I looked. It was probably the most awkward situation I’ve been in. At the end of the night, I gave him a quick hug and he leaned in to kiss me, but instead I turned my face to the side and he kissed my cheek. He said he hoped he would see me again, but I smiled and I waved. No chance in hell, buddy.

Then came Bachelor #3. He didn’t find me, I found him. I sent him an innocuous greeting (“Hi! How are you?”) and he responded. Before I know it we were exchanging messages back and forth the rest of the evening. We ended up exchanging numbers at the end of the conversation and the next evening, we were on the phone until well past midnight. We made a date for the following weekend, but the date came and went. We spent half the evening making out in his bedroom and before I knew it, my carriage turned back into a pumpkin and I was headed home.

Like one of my previous suitors put it, sometimes I want Mr. Right and sometimes I want Mr. Right Now. Lately I’ve just been looking for Mr. Right Now. But I know eventually I’ll want to find someone to be with forever. But when that time comes, I won’t be consulting a list of criteria to see if he’s right for me. I’ll know him when I find him.