Kyle

beautiful, Hope, Humanist, Journal, New, Partner, Perfect, Personal, Relationships

I went on my first date with Kyle today, and I say it like that because I know there are going to be more. He was funny, understanding, interested, intelligent, and cute. His face has very soft features and then a nice, defined jaw. Plus he’s 6’1. And an athlete. We connected on a lot of different things, we share a lot of the same interests and philosophies on life and relationships. He’s a computer science major, which is sorta my thing.

We got coffee today at 10:30, and I didn’t leave until 3:30- when he had practice. We got coffee, went for a short walk and ended up at Barnes and Noble where we compared the authors we had read and joked about other people, then we got lunch at a Thai place- because he’d never had Thai food before. After lunch, he invited me to come back with him to campus and I sat with him while he worked on a group project for his technical writing class (funny he was taking one, right?) we bonded and laughed over little things regarding technical writing, physics, and astronomy- also can we just marvel at the fact that he ordered a cappuccino, because my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I love a good cappuccino.

Anyway, after his group project was over we went back to his dorm. He left to go change, and I chatted with his roommate while I sat on his bed. Then when he came back, his roommate left, and there was this moment when I was sitting on his bed and he was pretty close to me and I could feel that electric energy that I always feel before a good kiss. His face was close enough to mine that it felt intimate, but up until that point, the most touching we had done was accidentally bumping into one another. I think I could really like this guy, and in the past, I’ve unnecessarily rushed things. I want to have a real bond with this guy. So I didn’t kiss him, instead, I got up and was like “hahah gotta go”.

There’s no reason to rush into things.

Can I just mention that when we got there, and my first reaction to him was feeling like I was seeing an old friend? Also, we matched- we were wearing the exact same shade of green. It looked like we tried to coordinate.

He’s super clean, which was nice. We love the same board games, listen to a lot of the same music, and we are both from the valley.

Okay, I’ll marry him.

There’s only like three things I didn’t care for. He is a big guy- like he’s toned, but he’s just broad by nature. He was a little too quiet at times. His sense of humor was just not my own.

That said, I like the guy a lot. He is literally the most considerate guy so far. I hope that wasn’t just the first date sorta thing.

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off·beat

beautiful, Beauty, Future, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, New, Peace, Perfect, Personal

So this post is for me, literally no agenda. I had a secondary interview today at a donut bakery. I was worried about how things were gonna go, I knew was going to need to write with a piping bag and dip donuts and whatnot. I had never done those things before- I also really wanted the job.

What if my ideas weren’t original enough, what if my piping was sloppy, what if my personality lacked?

I was thinking about how I’m not vibing with my current coworkers, wondering if it really was just me being uncomfortable. I started to get concerned about if I was able to get along with others.

But then I walked into the kitchen. The air in that place was lighter. Suddenly being myself was effortless, there was no stifling energy, there were no negative/pretentious ass holes. Seeing the different ingredients physically brought a smile to my face- I felt boundless opportunity and I felt alive. I felt like I was where I needed to be.

Suddenly I felt like I did when I was little, throwing ingredients into a mixing bowl and putting them in the oven to see how it would cook. Experimenting with different recipes, writing them down and sharing them with family. None of them were any good, and I knew that. But something about the act of doing these things, no matter where I was in life or who I was close to, baking was spiritual. It’s an act that continually brings me closer to myself and others. I hadn’t been that excited about a job ever.

Nothing could have brought me back down to earth. In that moment, I was ecstatic.

I know my piping came out a little sloppy and there wasn’t a clear sheen on the icing after I dipped my donuts, but I got the job.

I got the job.

I am going to be decorating donuts at an amazing, quirky, fun donut shop. I really didn’t think I would get it- but I did. And now I can live out a passion and dream of mine, even if it entails waking up before the sun is even close to rising- I’m excited.

I hope this is the beginning.

I think I’m going to attend a culinary arts school and pursue this passion of mine seriously. I don’t just want to see where this takes me, I want to take the reigns and lead my life in a direction I would be proud to live.

It reminded me that I want to get a nice camera and start photographing the things I find beautiful. I want to capture the things that I look at daily that take my breath away and remind me of why I love to live. I want to capture the things that I look at and abstractly break my heart. I want to capture the nuance and captivatingly simple beauty of life.

res·o·nant

Beauty, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Memories, New, Partner, Perfect, Personal, Relationships

Everything that I have been through recently, all of the things I have experienced, it points to one thing.

I do care deeply about Leo, but he is not as significant for my life as I used to imagine.

When I was with Sam in San Francisco, I recognized how important it was for me to be with someone who was transparent and not that artificial. I was craving something more, something that I could only describe as a connection.

When I was with Donnie, I felt that same way- but he wasn’t as artificial. We weren’t connecting, though. Even though we talked about incredibly deep topics, and opened up to one another. We shared our stories of suicide attempts, our fucked up families, and emotionally unstable relationships. We talked late into the night about our deepest fears and desires. But, something major was missing for me. Something that I strive to give to other people.

When I was with Alfred, I neither connected with him or thought he was genuine. He masqueraded his expensive artwork and google home setup, but was so far gone from himself that I don’t think he was capable of emotionally opening up at that moment. I was missing it there, too.

When I was with T, we connected on a surface level, but I always felt misunderstood by him. I felt like he didn’t bother trying to understand who I was, and maybe it’s my own artificial bullshit, but I do believe that there is a lot to understand about me if someone tried. Both good and bad, I am a deep and flourishing river of things to be dissected and cherished. When I am in love with someone, that is what I do- I try to understand who they are. I try to understand what makes them tick, the in’s and out’s of what they desire, value, and their experiences. I care. That is how I care.

Last night with Leo, I was really drunk for a while. I forget everything that happened, but I know I opened up. I was really honest. I wasn’t thinking about what I was doing, my motivations were purely instinctual.

I realize now, I value being understood. Leo doesn’t understand me, he assumes a lot about me that I don’t believe is true. He has a really cynical world-view about everyone being selfish, and I don’t believe that is entirely true. I believe that we can become selfless. That is what I am trying to do.

I invited him to tell me all of the hurtful things that he assumed and believed about me, and he did. There was a lot. He called me naive, and I am. He said that I was manipulative, and I have been, but I work on that (with T, I wasn’t manipulative, which told me that I can be morally strong.) He started to tell me about Riley, and I had to stop him. At which point he said that it proved why people didn’t want to say hurtful things. He also called me emotional and said that he rolled his eyes internally because it seemed like I was trying too hard to prove my cynical worldview. Like I was just following the script of what I should be doing, aka being unoriginal in my efforts. He said he never felt what I felt for him, but that he cared. He cared and he was nice to me to help mask the fact that I was hurt, to try and make things better because that’s his nature.

There’s truth in what he said.

I wanted to be understood by someone else, the way I understood him. I wanted things to magically fall into place, for us to equally understand one another and all that la-di-da bullshit. That’s the naivety. The very real naivety. The part of me that would linger by Box Office after I got off work and giddily stare into his eyes before I would head home. I don’t hate that part of me, it hasn’t gotten me in trouble, it has just hurt me. I think that pain I have felt was an important part of the human experience.

Just like there’s truth in the manipulation- that’s a part of me that I actively extinguish now. She’s bitter. She’s angry. She’s mad at the world for always bringing injustice, where of course I am the Just and those who get everything are the Injust. It’s wrong. I do wrong. I am often much worse than I should be. And that part of me, she rips the photos of Vanessa in the breakroom. She gossips and weasels her way into drama. She is stern. She is a bitch. She thinks that being uptight will somehow achieve her end goals, that being cold and snarky will somehow garner respect. It doesn’t. Ripping up photos of other girls, gossiping, being cold, none of those things are respectable.

But Leo is right that it exists within me.

He’s right that I am emotional, but I want to understand it instead of getting rid of it. Too many people wander through life ignoring how they feel, and I won’t be one of them. I don’t want to be an explosion of emotions though. I want my emotions to be reasonable and in control. Perhaps that’s the next journey I will go on, emotional maturity.

He’s right that the world can be selfish and will consistently hurt you, and maybe this is just my naivety coming out to play, but I hold myself to a higher standard. I will work toward being morally in-tune with myself and my actions. Maybe I should adopt the whole notion that what I don’t know can’t hurt me. Maybe just for the time being.

I need to stop emotionally exhausting myself in situations that aren’t important.

What is important?

The moment? Family? Having a sense of purpose? Success, however it is that you define it? Love? Is love important? Are the mementos important?

I gauge what is important through my heart, what I am called to and called to do- that’s important. But I’m completely questioning it now because I thought my heart was calling for me to love Leo, I thought that it was important. I thought it was some version of destiny or fate calling to me to do what was supposed to be done.

I don’t regret listening to my heart. It’s never directed me in a path that ended up being wrong for me-

So what about Leo, then? Your heart called you there. Maybe not because you two were destined to fall in love with each other, but because he could teach you something important.

I know that I have improved who I am incredible amounts since I’ve had feelings for him. I have learned the truest parts of who I am, and the negative attributes that I have acquired through pain. I have become a more genuine me. The me I have always known I was- and I’m not done, I’m nowhere near finished on my path toward being a more sincere person. But I have made progress.

Maybe that’s why my heart was drawn to Leo. His influence in my life not only helped me grow, but it has helped me work on my biggest flaws. I could be the most giving person in the world, but if I continued to rip up the pictures of other girls and gossip and be nasty inside, I would never be genuine. If I continued to be concerned with what everyone thought about me, I would never be satisfied as I am.

I can admit when I am wrong, I am judgemental and insecure. My self-esteem takes it’s highs and lows seriously. When I am confident, nothing can tear me down. When I am insecure, it could take a slight breeze to push me over the edge.

I deal with depression, anxiety, suicidal tendencies, and I’m showing signs of an addictive personality. Those are my big ones, the things I haven’t really been able to tackle yet because I’m stuck on the manipulation and insecurity and loneliness. I know they are intertwined. I know my problems don’t exist separately in different realms. They are one and the same. One larger picture, one big issue that I couldn’t take on right now.

So instead of dealing with it, I indulge. Another guy, another night, another unidentified pill, another glass, another emotionally charged writing session, another breakdown. What it comes down to is that I’m unsure what the bigger problem is, I don’t know how to help myself because I can’t say what’s wrong. I just know that I want to be understood, I want company, I want stimulation, I want to love and be loved.

My bed smells like him. His presence is still in this room, shadows have been cast into a timeless place that does not forget who has been here. His voice reverberates in the walls, it dances with the wind of the passing storm. You have been in this place. For me, love resounds.

There is beauty, even in this.

1·23·2019

beautiful, Beauty, Family, feminism, Her, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Nature, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Relationships, Small Things

I have had an inner calling to go home. Something deep, mystical, and spiritual. I had this calling when I was still with T. Muttered about it under my breath, seemingly out of nowhere. I want to go home.

My soul is withered, has lost all passion. I wake up with the desire to do good but feel as though I am weighed down. I have the desire to feel free and passionate and happy, but something has been in my way.

So I am returning home, with the intent to nourish my soul and regain my spiritual self.

I walk around with a veil over my heart, and it has been this way since I have been in San Francisco. I have lost touch with myself. But that didn’t start when I was here, it started a long time ago. Honestly, before I can even remember.

But I know what it is like to be in touch with my soul, to feel vibrant and alive and free.

I am making my way home so that I can feel like that every day. So I can learn to bring it with me wherever I go.

So that my heart, my soul, my psyche can be revived.

There is a part of myself that I cannot deny, one that thrives in nature. As a child, I felt the call of the wilderness when on ranches. I felt a connection to my psyche in the wild animals. I felt the freedom that came with the open wilderness. I was one with the world.

I have the energy of wild howling wolves in my heart. I must stay in touch with it.

I can feel it now, in it’s tamest sense, as I grow herbs on my window sill in my high rise apartment. But I am not happy. They are not happy. We are confined by these spaces and domesticated into something that society considers good.

We bulldoze and change everything in our paths. Yet we never allow ourselves to stop and breath. To harness our natural born desires to be free.

I will no longer live with a veil over my heart. I will no longer deny myself the desire to do what I need.

I am going home, and no one can stop me.

People have been taking and taking from me. Work demanded every possible part of me. T didn’t really demand a lot, but I wanted to give him everything. So I gave him everything; my attention, my love, my thought. Even when he was not around, I was doing things for him. Shaving my legs, washing my hair, sweeping up my hair before he came over, I cleaned, I cooked for us, I bought him gifts, it was constant. But it was not bad. I feel like I should repeat that. It was not bad.

I knew he was 17. I knew he was not emotionally in a place to do the same thing for me, and I did it anyway. Only because I didn’t realize I needed it in return. I assumed I was an ever-flowing fountain of giving.

So, I made his bed. I cleaned his room. I tried to form relationships with his family. I exhausted myself for my love of him.

The other day I wrote that I never loved T- but I honestly don’t even know what love is.

I can say that I cared very deeply for that boy. That he made me smile when he walked in the room. That his passion for things sparked some sort of passion in me. I know that our break up has caused and is still causing me physical pain.

I know that I learned to sincerely care about who he was and who he aspired to be.

And I enveloped myself in him, but lost connection with my self. He was not toxic, but the way that I tuned out my intuition with him was not good for me.

I’ve learned to listen to the person I am inside, and she’s withering away. She needs to be taken care of.

en·er·get·ic

Hope, Humanist, Journal, Perfect, Personal, Relationships, Small Things

Good morning!! I have so much love and contentment in my heart today. I am so happy I finally have an understanding of what has been going on inside of me- It’s like that little puzzle piece put me back into working condition.

T still means a lot to me, but I had blocked out all of those little memories of calling Leo and thinking about him instead of T. I forgot how unhappy I felt before T said I love you. I was seriously considering breaking up and moving home then, which was in November.

For some reason, I feel fine now. I have my answers, I have my coffee (with coffee creamer!), and my new roommate Monica is moving in! Also, today is my last day at the coffee shop! It’s going to be good. I have four days here, and I am pretty much entirely packed. So I’m ready to have some fun and do some stuff that I haven’t yet. I’ll probably go back to the art museum, and I want to go to Haight Ashbury, I really want to visit some cool stores and buy something for myself to remember my time up here alone. Like a coffee mug or a piece of art.

Something just clicked today, I don’t just feel better- I actually feel good. I feel alive, vibrant, energy pulsing through me. The bag of stuff that reminds me of T doesn’t hurt to look at, thinking about him isn’t painful.

I called my mom last night, we talked for about two hours. She really helped me out, when I first called her, I had been laying in bed for three hours and couldn’t move. I think that was the most depressed I have ever felt. I only called her to keep myself from hanging out with Sam.

I totally was using strange men to fill the time, and I was using alcohol to fill the void in me. I definitely had fun. Some of the time. Something was off with Alfred. I don’t care how successful you are or how many likes you get on Instagram (he had like 600 plus???), if you’re socially awkward there’s not going to be a good vibe.

I was not impressed by him. I wasn’t impressed by any of them, to be honest. They were all cute but insecure as hell. Ready to focus on myself and my family again.

My relationship ideals haven’t changed much- I still want a long term relationship. Next time, I will emphasize that the future is important to me and take note of how they react. If they don’t want it, they don’t want it. It also means that we aren’t on the same page and I should move on. Like immediately. No “seeing where the future takes things” because the only place that’s headed is where I was the last few weeks.

My heart is so big and I have so much love inside of me. I want to have a healthy, long-lasting, stable, and fulfilling relationship. I want to work on the problems, I want to let my communication skills grow.

I will share my love, and I will continue trusting people. I refuse to let myself become cold and callous simply because someone treated me that way.

ne·glect

Blame, Domestic Violence, Failure, Family, forgotten, Journal, Memories, no trust, Partner, Perfect, Personal, Relationships

Recently I have been feeling depressed. Most notably when I mess up at work or think about how my relationship with T will likely end.

As much as I like him, I can’t shake this feeling that he’ll cheat or something that will hurt me and then I’ll be put in this position that makes me feel like a hopeless girlfriend like I’ve felt before. I’ve tried really hard to be the perfect girlfriend for him, harder than I have ever tried before. I would say that this is the most effort I have put into a relationship – because I want it to work.

There have been times when I have felt very close to him and others when we were laying right next to each other and I may as well have been alone. But I’ve felt like that with everyone, which makes me wonder if that aching sense of abandonment is more about my parents and childhood traumas than my current relationship.

Which brings me to my main point here, I am damaged. I cannot explain the sense of loss that I feel when I cannot make a cappuccino properly, I just know that it happens. It’s illogical, but I have cried because I felt this ache after someone tells me that their drink isn’t light enough. I just can’t do anything right. 

I didn’t have these fears about T before we went to that party together – but I very consciously stopped trusting him completely when that girl walked by and he later told me he had a superficial thing for her. As well as when he drunkenly stared at that girl’s cleavage.

I recognize I am a recent addition to his life, that being in a relationship after being single is a lifestyle change, and I will admit that I have recently checked other guys out- but to do it so blatantly in front of me? It hurt.

After my mom left us I changed. She was only a part of my life on the surface. That slight connection we did have, messaging me and seeing each other once every few months, it made the abandonment I felt hard to distinguish. It wasn’t as if my mom just disappeared one day and I never heard from her again.

Nonetheless, I was abandoned. Physically she was not there, emotionally she was not there, financially she was not there.

I told myself that I was the only one I could ever rely on, and I have ingrained that into who I am today. Self-sufficient, self-made, independent and in no need of help. I was living that lifestyle at fifteen when she left me. That mindset made me push people who cared about me away. I was terrified I would get used to having them as a support system in my life and have to relive the pain of losing my mom.

Aside from Riley, I don’t let people in. I don’t really allow for anyone to become a part of my life that I am emotionally dependent on.

It’s a toxic trait of mine.

So now that I have the opportunity to really let another person in, to let myself have an attachment to T, I hesitate. He has the potential to really hurt me.

He told me that he feels something real between us, and I do too- when I’m not emotionally distancing myself from everything I care about.

Since my parents’ separation, I have had a compulsive desire to please authority figures in my life. Teachers, managers, literally anyone in power over me. I sought out the affirmation that I was doing good from my parents during a critical period of my development, and they gave me nothing. Now I seek it anywhere I can find. Working long hours, being as reliable as I humanly can push myself to be- and any failure feels like a monumental collapse.

I feel a responsibility, too. One to prove that my family line isn’t all flimsy and mentally unsound- it’s why I am in college. I want, no I feel the need, to show that I can achieve greatness. I want to have a real career. I want to have success. But how far will this drive take me before I crash and burn?

I feel the need to be perfect in every aspect of my life. I know I can never meet those expectations.

At the end of everything, I just want closure from the abandonment. I want the affirmation my parents cannot give me.

Reminiscing

beautiful, Creative Writing, Family, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Perfect, Small Things, Smiling

It’s 1:30am, I have about 5 hours and 10 minutes before I need to be up, but I can’t fall asleep. So, I’m up. And I’m writing. Because I have been trying to go to sleep since 9pm.

All I can seem to think about are my old memories. Very distinct and exact memories.

I can remember where everything went in my last house – the house where we lived as a family last.

I can still here the way the different doors creaked – I can hear the kitchen door that led out to our Asian patio. The way my mom’s desk looked, the stain on the carpet in the hallway just outside my room. The way the carpet came up just enough to see the green tile in my closet. The way the laundry hamper smelled in the hall. How we organized our freezer and pantry. Potatoes on the bottom shelf, onions too, both in wicker baskets. Those rice and blueberry treats mom would get from Costco. The guest house. How it always seemed to smell of barbecue chicken. The closet, weird coats, how we would go out there just to watch tv. The old cigar box in the guest house garage. The tire swing by the horse pasture, the orange grove, the brick wall, the nut trees by dad’s shop. How the orange trees smelled in the summer, the way snails would gather near the sprinkles, our pool. The second story of dad’s shop, how you could hear rain hitting the tin roof. The old war maps dad hung in his office out there. His big metal work table. The way the old blacktop road would burn my feet, mom’s white porch swing, our pomegranate tree. The lemon tree, the tree house we built with Callie. Mom’s garden. The basil plants. our compost pile. The brick fireplace inside, the big solid wood mantle above it. Dad’s bear hanging in the dining room, my pine piano. Mom’s brown rug. My music rack. The little patio outside the door off our breakfast nook. The lights suspended in there. Tig. The kittens. Our playhouse, and the summer we spent at the house before we moved in, sesame ring pretzels. Too much Febreeze. Mom’s clothes line. When dad worked in Vegas and mom made that bon bon ice cream that the whole block loved. Mom’s fourth of July parties. The vegetable stew she would made during thunderstorms. How we could see the beautiful mountains outside our kitchen window. When mom would wake us up by singing. Getting ready for youth group, that shimmery purple eye shadow I loved. The ivy wallpaper we had in our bathroom, the stone walk-in shower that’s light didn’t work so it was always dark. All the goddamn storage space in there. Our craft closet. Mom’s closet, which was always organized. The little garden outside mom’s bedroom, the wall of windows that were in front of her bed. Her beautiful bathroom, the high windows, tall ceilings, wood and stone everywhere. Our beautiful, expensive, World Market table. The wall of windows in our dining room. How mom would let us make an pillow fort out of the living room during the summer when Lacey and Katie would stay with us. That Thanksgiving when Uncle Winky brought his Brazilian friend, who was probably his boyfriend and we were all just oblivious to how gay he was. Sage and Sonia. Spending summers with the Deitz, their treehouse. Going over there to hang out with Jacob and Nate before any of us were out of the 8th grade. The year Jacob started high school, when he started driving, when he went off to college. When Carson started dating that dude with the weird name – playing in the orange groves outside their house, the palm fans. The mule. Callie’s horses. Going with her to mediation in the hummer, taking her to her dad’s house. Going to see movie’s with her and Melissa, always having diet Dr. Pepper and tootsie rolls. When Melissa would decorate for christmas, and their entire house transformed into a winter wonderland. Ms. Terri’s 15 foot christmas tree, staying out until 1am to help get ready for VBS at Foothill. The red berries. When Mrs. Hengst took her Sunday school class to see Mega Mind and I felt super left out.

Oh my god. Carson and Hayley are both married. Jacob and Nate both have girlfriends and are going to graduate college soon. Callie is a Sophomore. Riley and Katie are in college. Lacey is graduating this year. Sonni is at COS. What the hell happened to my childhood? I will never spend another summer at the Deitz cabin. I will never climb frog rock again or go to Dudley Ranch. I’ll never go hunting with my dad again. I’ll never go inside the 38o house…. I’ll probably never see the Sisto’s, or step inside Foothill.. Who knows if I will even see Delaney or Owen.. But I’ll never spend a halloween at their house, or go into  their treehouse with those weird little brown berries that fell off their tree, or see their clawfoot bathtub filled with plants that DD put outside her bedroom window, or watch Owen obsess over Cars or Nate over spongebob or Jacob playing Call of Duty on their family computer… I will never sit on the Deitz porch swing and hold kittens again, or see Boomer.. I miss their pebble walkway and watching everyone play volleyball on summer afternoons while Melissa obsessively cleaned her house.

I’ve only been writing for twenty minutes, but I just took a long journey back into my childhood.. I can’t believe where I am today, when I used to lay awake at night and think about my future. I never imagined my parents would divorce, and moving to the coast was always a desire but seemed far fetched. Going to a public high school? Unheard of. I’ve had three boyfriends? ALLYSA! Y0u were supposed to marry Jacob, Nate, or Caleb – preferably Max. C’mon! You were going to get married in Gramp’s church, with that nasty blue carpet and wooden pews and green cushions, the weird cross with backlights. But too much for that, because it has all been torn out and redone. Now it’s The Road. Those little lights that used to line the stage are even gone. The smell is gone too..  And you have been in every room in that church now, all the mystery is gone. The fear is gone. Now it’s just a musty old building, and the imagery of Burt is dead. You had your thirteenth birthday party there, it was really fun. You worked there, too. When you were 15. You watched your little cousins roam those halls, now. Oh yeah – Uncle Juano got married and has three kids. Uncle Wink has two. Aunt Ne has Ribbon now, and you lived with her as well. You miss that. You also lived with Nana and Gramps, your room was the one with the weird, old closet that always scared you. The one that used to be Gramp’s office with the bottles filled with sand and coins. Also, I don’t really have to tell you this because you kind of already know, but you don’t believe in God at all. But you already have your doubts.

So much has changed for me… I kind of just want to go to Katie’s trailor and just sleep among the musty old smell and bad internet. I want to wake up to the neighbor’s rooster crowing and the hill we all know is Goliath’s grave…

My Perfect Partner: Revised

Atheism, beautiful, Beauty, equality, Family, feminism, Future, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, New, Partner, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Relationships, science, Small Things, Smiling

About five months ago, on august 1st of 2016, I wrote a post about my perfect partner. While most of it is still true, I wanted to revise it. After going through my last relationship, some updating needed to happen.

My perfect partner would be taller than me, pretty fit or small, kiss really well. Someone who is sexual, and understand the appeal of large cities. Someone who would be down for adventure at any hour. They would remind me of what I love when I am sad. Preferably would have brown or dark hair, would wear leather shoes (probably oxfords or sandals). High libido. They would play chess, read for leisure, cook occasionally. Someone who would appreciate music with foreign lyrics and instrumental pieces. They would have the desire to see the world, to go places. Someone who loves foggy weather, as well as the rainy days. They would share my nerdy side, loving Lord of the Rings, Sherlock, The X-files, or whatever I’m interested in then as much as me. We would share the same taste in music and humor, I mean, a relationship with puns would have to be a good one. They kind of need to love sushi, because it’s literally my favorite. They would be an open-minded person who looks at (and doesn’t ignore) facts, someone who uses reasoning and skepticism to come to conclusions. A critical thinker, an intelligent being. Their occupation would be in a field of science or art, they would be a logical person with soft emotions. They would be passionate and caring, interesting but not a douche, kind but not in a delusional way. Ethically, I would see in them what I aspire to be. They would aspire to know everything they could, never stop learning. Someone who wants to make a change in the world, who is as crazy as I am in thinking that we could actually make a difference – but they don’t let that stop them.

Someone who would understand that I have my many emotional issues, and they wouldn’t guilt me for having them. They would understand that sometimes I need to be loved. Someone who wouldn’t mind my spam texting them, or that I over analyze the simplest of things. They wouldn’t mind that I can overreact to things, because let’s face it, I can make a lot of issues for myself. They would understand that I have a difficult time loving people, that I have a difficult time trusting someone after that trust has been broken. They would understand that I am a person who fluctuates in everything: emotions, weight, ideas. I’m constantly changing and don’t like settling.

Most importantly, we would want to make a relationship together work. We would make the other feel at peace, and loved. There will be no “if we’re still together then”, there would be trust and mutual satisfaction. There wouldn’t be that looming sense that one day we would break up.

I feel the intense desire to be in a long term relationship with someone like this. Surprisingly, nothing drastic has changed in the last five months, but a lot of little things were not the same anymore.

And of course, we would have to love each other.

Love Many Times Over

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I live for the feeling of excitement,

The moment you realize you’re doomed.

When the emotions capsize and leave you helpless

In the otherwise dead, lifeless world.

It’s much like the sensation of cold wind on warm day,

Leaving your neck hairs standing on end.

The fastened heartbeat, shallow breaths,

Future flashing before your eyes.

When you realize you’re in love again.

Poetry

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Sweet voices, little voices

they wander in the garden.

Saying words that mean so little –

Saying words that mean so much.

Their words traverse through the garden,

they wander aimlessly.

The little voices have little feet

that will carry their bodies far.