I’ve bounced back and forth on this issue a bit. When things fell apart with the last guy, I felt like I had to hurry up and get over it because he had warned that it was most likely going to be temporary, but I had hoped that he could be swayed because of how he seemed to feel about me.
I had promised him that it wouldn’t bother me if it was temporary, and on some level it didn’t. It was the end of an experience, and thus end of story.
On the other hand, he didn’t respect or understand or even care about how I felt about the situation. He couldn’t see it from my point of view and let me know rather quickly that my point of view was completely irrelevant to his life, or at the least to his decision making process. Because that has been a regular theme in my relationships with men, it became something I fixated on, and thus what could have been a relatively quick ending was dragged out for me emotionally.
We won’t even get into the physical loss that was attached to the whole mess…
When a friend of mine posted something on Facebook that felt a little too close to home, it made me realize a few things:
Continue reading “Healing Takes Time”
This weekend, if we were sharing stories about our lives over coffee, mine would be iced, with perhaps a shot of Frangelico. This week has been rough.
School’s fine. I managed to keep things going without a copier to put worksheets together. It’s my personal life that’s in shambles a bit.
Continue reading “Weekend Coffee Share: I Give Up”
It’s not even been 72 hours since I was made aware of my relationship blunder, and already my heart and head have run the gambit.
For those of you who know me, you know I’m a big believer in signs, and several things have popped up lately to make me think I should have seen this coming. But even as I start to dwell on that, I’ll spot something on Facebook or Instagram that makes me think that I’m stupid for believing such a thing. Meanwhile my friends are there telling me to relax because while it was a rather big blunder, it’s also very obvious (to them… I’m not so sure) that things will work out positively.
And all in the middle of it all, several of the guys from my past have shown up almost as if the universe is testing me.
Continue reading “Emotional Roller Coaster”
I keep trying to tell people that I am capable of admitting when I’m wrong. Here’s me doing that. After having listened to Beyonce’s Lemonade about 3 more times, and having watched it at least 2 more times, I think I have to admit there is some benefit to it.
Do I think it is, as one author put it, a “masterpiece?”
No. For one thing, I still can’t get past how in “Don’t Hurt Yourself” she has that line that says “Who the f*ck do you think I is?”
But I can agree that it is opening the door to a really important discussion: Men’s infidelity.
Continue reading “The Benefit of #Lemonade”
Let’s talk about the hour plus long adventure that is Beyonce’s new visual album, Lemonade (I’m watching as I write, so if this post seems a bit bipolar, that’s why). In my opinion, it’s pretty amazing… in spots…
My problem is that it seems like it might be a waste of her talent. The poetry between songs/chapters is absolutely stunning and particularly deep, and yet it seems so very out of place next to images of Queen Bey driving a monster truck over cars she’s just destroyed, and it seems so petty once you realize that this is an entire album putting her business out there for the world to realize that she was indeed cheated on by Jay-Z.
Furthermore, lines like “I plugged my menses with pages from the holy book,” don’t belong in the same universe as a line like “Who the f*ck you think I is?”
Of course, maybe that’s because Beyonce didn’t write the poetry… Continue reading “Wasted Lemons: Reflections on Lemonade”
His love for her showed through
the blinding light of his smile,
his pearly white teeth,
glinting like diamonds
mirroring the light in his eyes;
a light that came from somewhere
in the cavernous cage of his chest.
Her hand upon his rib cage
could feel the
drum beat of his heart,
matching rhythm with her own. Continue reading “I love you, but… (Original Poem)”
The fantasy of you haunts me
like flowers from a
in my looking glass. Continue reading “The Phantom of You (Original Poem)”