We’re both skilled, highly educated professionals, but there we were, clumsily flirting like giddy high-schoolers. In plain sight. I didn’t care. I don’t think you did, either. It was fun while it lasted.
I'm going to tell you a story. A personal one. And I share with the hopes that you will continue to embrace the vulnerability of love... regardless of heart break.
I was someone who never had a sifnificant other. Not in middle school. No date to the 8th grade dance. Not in high school. No one asked me to prom. In fact, I was madly in love with a guy who just couldn't love me back. I went to college thinking it was finally my chance. I craved human touch. I often imagined what it would feel like to be held, or kissed, or touched. I wanted so desperately to understand love. Bathe in it. Cherish it. Because my whole life I was surrounded by beautiful friends who always seemed to have "someone". And I was always the person who had "no one". College came and went, and still... No magic. No love interest. No one seemed to have any interest in me at all, in fact. And it was a blow to my self-esteem. Because instead of realizing that I deserved so much more than what my friends had settled for-- I felt like I was nothing. Like something was wrong with me. But, darling... I was off base. Because my first year of grad school, I met someone. And he made my heart shine. I didn't know my belly was an Olympic gold medalist in gymnastics. He made my tummy flip and my body calm. He held me, he kissed me, and he touched me. And I finally understood why I had to wait had to for so long. because it was always his hands that were supposed to open me up to the world of love. We fell deeply, madly, world changingly in love. But he was from a different country- and he had to go back home. To his family. To his life. Our souls never stopped crying for each other, though. And we tried to make it work long distance. We made it a whole year. But eventually- we had to face reality. And so this beautiful love story came to its last chapter. But I'll never forget what he said when we parted ways...
"we loved each other gently... and we leave each other gently."
So, even though a piece of me will always belong to him. And even though I am heart broken and sad right now.
I'll forever be grateful for my first experience with love. Because the real thing.... was worth all of those years missing out on something I simply wasn't ready for.
My heart is with you, LTC.
Perhaps you thought your flirting was innocent, but I was at a point in my life where I was asking myself a lot of questions, and you looked a lot like the answer.
I’ve never been the type of girl that guys go for.
I have average features, my personality isn’t captivating, and I’m so incredibly awkaward.
There’s a part of me that has always thought that maybe there’s something wonderful in me that everyone else can see, but I can’t.
That probably sounds crazy.
Someone once told me that I’m beautiful, but not in a typical way.
“It’s a rare kind of beauty,” she said. “Not everyone will see it right away, but the right people will,”.
Whatever that means.
One day, I hope to be happy with who I am.
Too bad that’s not today.
Concept: My head on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat. Your hand on my back, rubbing slow circles. Not really talking. Just you, me, and calming silence.
Write about us. You say things with so much beauty and depth that I'm often left silent not knowing what to say back to you.
Write about me. Let me re-read what you're thinking and what you're saying to me and about me.
Write about this. Whatever this is. With you and with me. Write and write and write until you write us into existence.
So I came out to my dad a few months ago. He said that basically it's 2018 and as long as I don't drop out of school I can date whoever I want. We really didn't talk about it at all afterwards though.
Well yesterday was my birthday. He comes in the kitchen with the cake and it's a beautiful multicolored rainbow cake.
He get's all shy and he's like "I got a rainbow cake on purpose". It made me cry happy tears.
- That Redheaded Lesbian
I speak deliberately, yet everything I say is perceived likewise. I use these words often, so I want you to know what I mean: Adorable doesn't mean pretty. Cute doesn't mean pretty. Wonderful doesn't mean pretty. No, attractive doesn't mean pretty either. Sure, you're pretty, perhaps even the prettiest woman I've met. But, I feel like that's self-evident, similarly to how water is wet.
Adorable means lovable and respectable. It comes from the word adore. As I've said, you're pretty. However, there is something about the way in which you go about your life and how you interact with other people that makes me go: awww. In other words, you're cute. Also, I'm completely blown away by the entirety of you; you're the 8th World Wonder. You're inspiring, impressive and thought-provoking at the same time. Lastly, I'm drawn to you. You're to me what stars are to planets and other stars. Guess what, you're attractive.
I love you. Just don't think that it's only because you're pretty. You're more than pretty. Inside and outside, you're beautiful.
I know I should be gone, but these pent-up thoughts and feelings were about to kill me.
Love, By: Storm
Last night my boyfriend and I started making out and it was really sweet, when suddenly he reached under the pillow and whipped out something, I couldn't see what in the dark.
Until he shot me in the face with something.
It was a nerf dart. He hid a nerf gun under our pillow and then made out with me to trap me so he could shoot me with the gun.
I laughed so hard we couldn't go back to making out for a looooong time. I love how much he makes me laugh. I'm gonna marry him someday.
(I'm already planning on how to get him back. Next time he leaves the bedroom to pee, I'm gonna hide under his bed and grab his ankle to scare the shit out of him).