Dear Soulmate,
Come into my heart.Let me be your refuge. Take solace in my arms. Let me be your peace. I will calm your nerves and share your pain. I will hold your hand and walk by your side. Share in my love make it yours. Share in my life make it ours, I can't seem to put in words..the things I want to say.So I write them in these letters with the hope that one day you will know in your heart how I feel and that I care. You have found a place in my heart and you'll always be there. How could I have known you'd make me feel this way. So wonderful and sweet you are...sometimes I forget what to say. I love to hear your voice My love, you are so special to me.This lady God gave to me. Precious as any will ever be.EVERYTIME, I look into your eyes I see my life standing before me, EVERYTIME, I see your face I can't imagine my life without you, I talk to you it takes my breath away, And I know how lucky I am to have a beautiful, wonderful, funny, smart, caring, compassionate, and loving girl like you that loves me. There are no words to describe how much I love you, But everyday I think about us sharing our life together someday. EVERYTIME, We kiss I can't imagine myself without your sweet lips,EVERYTIME, I see you cry,I will wipe your tears away, Because I see myself hurting inside,EVERYTIME, I know I love you, And would give my life and my very last breath so you wouldn't feel an ounce of pain until the day I die. EVERYTIME, I know it will be forever, EVERYTIME...Ah, this crazy desire of giving a kiss on your lips.This almost impossible desire that consumes me inside.This anxiety to be with you To meet you just for a moment and be able to see your smile. Feel your hug. Feel your smell. Be able to touch you and feel you exist and know you are not just a dream. Be able to look in your eyes. Ah, this crazy desire To see you, just, for a moment, To be able to show you what I feel, And to be able to be by your side... Just to look at you a little and tell you how much... I love you
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE
Dear Soulmate
Two lips meeting one another in the stream. Exchanging words no one could ever interpret.They are wet and dry, depending on how they feel. So is the encounter of your lips with mine. We start a new day with a passionate kiss.Your lips embracing mine with love in our hearts.Mouth to mouth...your tongue caressing mine. Holding one another like a magnet. The kiss of love we'll never resist like the kiss of Angel, a heavenly bliss. Morning and night our lips never miss...a priceless kiss that makes our hearts freeze. A kiss we have is not a stolen kiss. A precious gift that God planted on our lips. Our first kiss, a memorable one indeed. Although I sneezed...it's a summer breeze. When we kiss, we also like to breathe. A burning sensation we always feel within. From mouth to mouth we resuscitate lost feelings. Through our lips we make love reign supreme. Our kiss is everywhere our lips fit. Kiss of love...touching wherever it wishes. Till eternity will the world watch the scene as we celebrate our love with a holy kiss.When I look at you I smile inwardly and the warmth touches my soul in a sizzling welcome of love, infinite --in its depths, its joy. When I look at you, I rejoice and the joyful feeling sends waves of love surging through my body in a rapturous welcoming of our being in love's ecstasy -- endlessly.
Two lips meeting one another in the stream. Exchanging words no one could ever interpret.They are wet and dry, depending on how they feel. So is the encounter of your lips with mine. We start a new day with a passionate kiss.Your lips embracing mine with love in our hearts.Mouth to mouth...your tongue caressing mine. Holding one another like a magnet. The kiss of love we'll never resist like the kiss of Angel, a heavenly bliss. Morning and night our lips never miss...a priceless kiss that makes our hearts freeze. A kiss we have is not a stolen kiss. A precious gift that God planted on our lips. Our first kiss, a memorable one indeed. Although I sneezed...it's a summer breeze. When we kiss, we also like to breathe. A burning sensation we always feel within. From mouth to mouth we resuscitate lost feelings. Through our lips we make love reign supreme. Our kiss is everywhere our lips fit. Kiss of love...touching wherever it wishes. Till eternity will the world watch the scene as we celebrate our love with a holy kiss.When I look at you I smile inwardly and the warmth touches my soul in a sizzling welcome of love, infinite --in its depths, its joy. When I look at you, I rejoice and the joyful feeling sends waves of love surging through my body in a rapturous welcoming of our being in love's ecstasy -- endlessly.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
DATING: MUST LOVE DOGS...GREATEST QUOTE
You know what? Can we just skip all the small talk? You know, like, who are you? Who am I? What are we doing here together? I have this theory that when you first meet somebody... .that's the time when you have to be totally honest... ...because you have nothing to lose. Five, 10 years down the road, gets a lot harder. You can't say one day, "Happy anniversary, this is me." It doesn't work that way. This is it. We'll never see each other as clearly and as nakedly as we do in this moment. Right now. This instant. Here's my story. Here's what you need to know. I'm divorced, and I had my heart broken badly... by a woman that I really loved, but I think your heart grows back bigger. You know? Once you've got the shit beat out of you. And the universe lets your heart expand that way. I think that's the function of all this pain and heartache that we all go through. You gotta go through that to come out to a better place. And that's how I see it. What about you? Why is a dazzling woman like you single? You can do it. You can just tell the truth. If you know the truth. What have we got to lose?
After the dinner we shake hands, "good night," never see each other again.
After the dinner we shake hands, "good night," never see each other again.
PERSONAL/ DATING: THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY
Yesterday, I was instant messaging an old friend. Maria’s a delightful person whom I’ve known since early childhood – attractive, athletic, intelligent, funny, successful, and the mother of two beautiful children. She also told me that she’s getting divorced. Her husband cheated on her multiple times – and Maria’s rightfully furious. She’s questioning the meaning of her entire relationship. She’s questioning how she’s ever going to find love again in the future. Most of all, she’s questioning her own judgment, which is the hardest thing to do when you pride yourself on being intelligent and rational.
From what little I learned about Maria and her husband, it seemed clear that she willfully ignored his selfish, narcissistic tendencies because of what came with the rest of the package – cute, smart, successful, etc...I did the same thing in my marriage.So how do you know is someone is good or bad?
I saw this movie...“The Diving Bell and the Butterfly”, and it really got me to thinking:If you had EVERYTHING taken away from you – your body, your job, your whole self-definition – what would you be left with?
You’d be left with your mind.
You’d be left with your heart.
You’d be left with your spirit.
You’d be left with your kindness.
You’d be left with your generosity.
You’d be left with your sense of humor.
Strip away your looks, your home, your career, your money and you’d be left with everything that’s on the INSIDE. The person who doesn’t prioritize you now is NEVER going to prioritize you. So if Maria and I wants to know where we went wrong in choosing our partner …The answer is was right here in front of us. We've been investing in the least important qualities.
Looks come and go. Jobs come and go.Money comes and goes What lasts forever is CHARACTER.
I’ve have dated younger women, smarter women, more successful women, and so on… but I never met a BETTER than the next woman who will be my wife. If I were hit by a bus future...i know the next woman I will be with will be push me around in a wheelchair for the next 40 years. That’s what I mean by character.
There are no shortage of impressive men out there who make you tingle every time you think of them – but they’re WORTHLESS if they don’t put YOU first.
So the next time you’re dating a guy, don’t get too sucked in by his charm or his wit or his looks or his money…Instead, learn to appreciate the guy who does what he says, who says what he means, who makes it clear that you’re a priority to him.After all, the guy who doesn’t prioritize you now is NEVER going to prioritize you. Cut him loose and choose the man who loves you for what’s INSIDE. Because what’s inside never goes away.
From what little I learned about Maria and her husband, it seemed clear that she willfully ignored his selfish, narcissistic tendencies because of what came with the rest of the package – cute, smart, successful, etc...I did the same thing in my marriage.So how do you know is someone is good or bad?
I saw this movie...“The Diving Bell and the Butterfly”, and it really got me to thinking:If you had EVERYTHING taken away from you – your body, your job, your whole self-definition – what would you be left with?
You’d be left with your mind.
You’d be left with your heart.
You’d be left with your spirit.
You’d be left with your kindness.
You’d be left with your generosity.
You’d be left with your sense of humor.
Strip away your looks, your home, your career, your money and you’d be left with everything that’s on the INSIDE. The person who doesn’t prioritize you now is NEVER going to prioritize you. So if Maria and I wants to know where we went wrong in choosing our partner …The answer is was right here in front of us. We've been investing in the least important qualities.
Looks come and go. Jobs come and go.Money comes and goes What lasts forever is CHARACTER.
I’ve have dated younger women, smarter women, more successful women, and so on… but I never met a BETTER than the next woman who will be my wife. If I were hit by a bus future...i know the next woman I will be with will be push me around in a wheelchair for the next 40 years. That’s what I mean by character.
There are no shortage of impressive men out there who make you tingle every time you think of them – but they’re WORTHLESS if they don’t put YOU first.
So the next time you’re dating a guy, don’t get too sucked in by his charm or his wit or his looks or his money…Instead, learn to appreciate the guy who does what he says, who says what he means, who makes it clear that you’re a priority to him.After all, the guy who doesn’t prioritize you now is NEVER going to prioritize you. Cut him loose and choose the man who loves you for what’s INSIDE. Because what’s inside never goes away.
Monday, March 17, 2014
ARTICLE:A Second Embrace, With Hearts and Eyes Open By MARY ELIZABETH WILLIAMS
I looked across the restaurant table at my date, an attractive brown-eyed man with two young children and a broken marriage, as he recounted his romantic history.
“I used to think the relationship part of my life was settled and I never had to worry about it,” he told me. “Now I think, if you love someone, you have to take it one day at a time. And you have to work at it one day at a time.” There was a hopeful gleam in his eye.
I smiled and thought, “I could be in a relationship with a man like this.” In fact, I knew I could. Reader, I had married him. On this night, long after we had thrown in the towel on us, here we were again, crawling back into the ring. This time, though, it would be different. We just never imagined how different it would become, or how quickly.
Our unraveling had not been a swift, decisive catastrophe but a smaller series of no less destructive forces. We came apart the way many couples do: via the gradual realization that we were unhappy, and the inescapable conclusion that our relationship was not a refuge from our unhappiness but a cause of it. We were two nice people who had been deeply in love but who found themselves, nearly 20 years later, in love no more.
Neither of us wanted to spend the next 40 years going on as we had, seemingly safe within an institution but deprived of its most essential nutrient. If we had not had children, it would have been simple. We no doubt would have disappeared amicably but entirely from each other’s lives. But we did have children.
As my friend Linda, whose husband left her while she was pregnant, once told me: “No matter what, it’s a lifetime relationship. I’ll be at my son’s wedding and my ex will be there.”
Likewise for us, there was never any question that the good will we had once shared, combined with our love for our daughters, was stronger than any current disappointment we could harbor toward each other. We sat together at school plays and parent-teacher conferences. We shared holidays and birthdays. We even took another apartment in the same building, to make the situation easier for the children. After a while, the wounds of the breakup healed, and a new friendship was formed, a bonding unique to the front lines of parenthood.
The end of a long marriage, especially a marriage with children, will shake your world to its foundation. If you’re lucky, you’ll eventually come out of it a little braver and wiser. It wasn’t long after the split that I realized I liked the new person inside of me that this heartbreak was forging.
What I hadn’t expected was that I’d like the person he was becoming, too. Then one day he said something funny and I laughed, and then he looked at me with a directness I had never seen before and said, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m flirting with you.”
I’ve always been a sucker for a man with a smooth line. So I flirted back. And when he asked me to dinner, I said yes.
A short time later I strolled through a museum with my friend Lily, a woman who had recently reconciled with her husband after a yearlong separation. “How did you know?” I asked her. “How did you believe again, after everything you’d been through?”
“He said what I needed to hear,” she said, “even though I didn’t know what I needed to hear until he said it. You’ll see.”
Soon after that I went on a date with the father of my children, and over a plate of plantains, I did see.
Our reunion, low key and unmarked by flying rice though it was, prompted a variety of responses among our friends and family. There were enthusiastic cheers from the romantics, and there was skepticism and concern from others, who remembered all the miserable details of our unraveling. But falling in love again after a breakup is no simple matter of retreat. We are not the people we were when we met two decades before, and we had no desire to relive a marriage that had, to the best of both our recent memories, failed unequivocally.
Yet if we had taken the leap of faith it takes to end a long-term relationship, surely, we figured, we could muster the even greater trust it would take to open our hearts again. Besides, it was nice being with a man whose emotional baggage from his crazy ex I could really understand. And my children were happy about Mom’s new man.
What ensued that summer we began again was a blissful period of lazy days and tender nights. Then it took a severe swerve. On Aug. 10, I had updated my Facebook status to read, “Best summer ever.” On Aug. 11, I learned I had malignant melanoma.
As I lay in a hospital a few nights later, doped to the gills, bleeding from three surgical sites and hoping I was clear of cancer, he and I held hands and watched “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” on TV.
“I’m sorry about all this,” I said groggily, “because now you have to stick with me. Otherwise all our friends will think you’re Newt Gingrich.”
“I see you had this planned all along,” he said. “Well played.” But later, when I told him I knew this wasn’t the reunion he’d had in mind, he just chuckled and said, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily this time.”
As I recovered through the bleak period that followed, through a grim rediagnosis that left me with a prognosis of mere months to live and then into a clinical trial that shocked us by eradicating my disease entirely, he cooked dinners and did laundry. He arranged playdates for the children and read them stories. He picked up prescriptions and cleaned up enough blood to make Eli Roth shudder. He left me awed at a strength in him I had never seen before. I had never had to.
Our relationship already had attained a bittersweet edge by virtue of its status as a second go-round, but there’s nothing like journeying through the wringer together to take that whole skipping-through-the-daisies aspect out of your dates. Although our experience has been far from sexy, it has been peculiarly romantic.
Nobody writes songs about sitting on the edge of the tub while a man applies topical antibiotics to your oozing skin graft. There are no poetic odes to women with gaping scars, no sonnets to men who may be wearing the same shirt for the third day in a row.
But maybe there should be, because everything I thought I knew about love at 24 seems pretty absurd now. I didn’t know then that a wonderful relationship would one day become unsustainable. I couldn’t have imagined that later on, strangely enough, it would become a new kind of wonderful.
The wedding ring I so optimistically slipped onto my finger long ago, the same one I despondently removed many years later, is now permanently retired. But I wear a small moonstone on my hand, the symbol of hope. Hope for healing in all its forms.
Neither of us sees the world in guarantees anymore. We recognize them as the comforting fictions they are. We accept that you can’t always keep the promises you made when you were barely above drinking age. You can’t know how you will change, or what life will throw at you.
Having our marriage fall apart and having disease come in and try very hard to kill me did away with our cozy assumptions that the future looks just like the past, but with more laugh lines. But he and I have learned, because we have had to, the difference between the illusion of security and the liberating joy of the present, between obligation and choice.
And choice, terrifying as it can be, is so much better. We had to leave each other to discover that: to understand what it really means to decide to be with a person, one day at a time, however many days there may be. Love isn’t a fortress. It isn’t a locked room. It’s full of doors and windows and escape hatches, and they’re not scary. They’re how, to paraphrase Leonard Cohen, the light gets in.
A few weeks ago, after an exhausting round of tests and doctor appointments, we flopped together into bed, almost too tired to speak. We watched the ceiling fan spin, lulled by its hypnotic rhythm, until at last he spoke just six words: “I’m glad I didn’t lose you.”
I looked into semidarkness at the man I love, the man I once left, and said, “I’m glad I didn’t lose you, too.”
“I used to think the relationship part of my life was settled and I never had to worry about it,” he told me. “Now I think, if you love someone, you have to take it one day at a time. And you have to work at it one day at a time.” There was a hopeful gleam in his eye.
I smiled and thought, “I could be in a relationship with a man like this.” In fact, I knew I could. Reader, I had married him. On this night, long after we had thrown in the towel on us, here we were again, crawling back into the ring. This time, though, it would be different. We just never imagined how different it would become, or how quickly.
Our unraveling had not been a swift, decisive catastrophe but a smaller series of no less destructive forces. We came apart the way many couples do: via the gradual realization that we were unhappy, and the inescapable conclusion that our relationship was not a refuge from our unhappiness but a cause of it. We were two nice people who had been deeply in love but who found themselves, nearly 20 years later, in love no more.
Neither of us wanted to spend the next 40 years going on as we had, seemingly safe within an institution but deprived of its most essential nutrient. If we had not had children, it would have been simple. We no doubt would have disappeared amicably but entirely from each other’s lives. But we did have children.
As my friend Linda, whose husband left her while she was pregnant, once told me: “No matter what, it’s a lifetime relationship. I’ll be at my son’s wedding and my ex will be there.”
Likewise for us, there was never any question that the good will we had once shared, combined with our love for our daughters, was stronger than any current disappointment we could harbor toward each other. We sat together at school plays and parent-teacher conferences. We shared holidays and birthdays. We even took another apartment in the same building, to make the situation easier for the children. After a while, the wounds of the breakup healed, and a new friendship was formed, a bonding unique to the front lines of parenthood.
The end of a long marriage, especially a marriage with children, will shake your world to its foundation. If you’re lucky, you’ll eventually come out of it a little braver and wiser. It wasn’t long after the split that I realized I liked the new person inside of me that this heartbreak was forging.
What I hadn’t expected was that I’d like the person he was becoming, too. Then one day he said something funny and I laughed, and then he looked at me with a directness I had never seen before and said, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m flirting with you.”
I’ve always been a sucker for a man with a smooth line. So I flirted back. And when he asked me to dinner, I said yes.
A short time later I strolled through a museum with my friend Lily, a woman who had recently reconciled with her husband after a yearlong separation. “How did you know?” I asked her. “How did you believe again, after everything you’d been through?”
“He said what I needed to hear,” she said, “even though I didn’t know what I needed to hear until he said it. You’ll see.”
Soon after that I went on a date with the father of my children, and over a plate of plantains, I did see.
Our reunion, low key and unmarked by flying rice though it was, prompted a variety of responses among our friends and family. There were enthusiastic cheers from the romantics, and there was skepticism and concern from others, who remembered all the miserable details of our unraveling. But falling in love again after a breakup is no simple matter of retreat. We are not the people we were when we met two decades before, and we had no desire to relive a marriage that had, to the best of both our recent memories, failed unequivocally.
Yet if we had taken the leap of faith it takes to end a long-term relationship, surely, we figured, we could muster the even greater trust it would take to open our hearts again. Besides, it was nice being with a man whose emotional baggage from his crazy ex I could really understand. And my children were happy about Mom’s new man.
What ensued that summer we began again was a blissful period of lazy days and tender nights. Then it took a severe swerve. On Aug. 10, I had updated my Facebook status to read, “Best summer ever.” On Aug. 11, I learned I had malignant melanoma.
As I lay in a hospital a few nights later, doped to the gills, bleeding from three surgical sites and hoping I was clear of cancer, he and I held hands and watched “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” on TV.
“I’m sorry about all this,” I said groggily, “because now you have to stick with me. Otherwise all our friends will think you’re Newt Gingrich.”
“I see you had this planned all along,” he said. “Well played.” But later, when I told him I knew this wasn’t the reunion he’d had in mind, he just chuckled and said, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily this time.”
As I recovered through the bleak period that followed, through a grim rediagnosis that left me with a prognosis of mere months to live and then into a clinical trial that shocked us by eradicating my disease entirely, he cooked dinners and did laundry. He arranged playdates for the children and read them stories. He picked up prescriptions and cleaned up enough blood to make Eli Roth shudder. He left me awed at a strength in him I had never seen before. I had never had to.
Our relationship already had attained a bittersweet edge by virtue of its status as a second go-round, but there’s nothing like journeying through the wringer together to take that whole skipping-through-the-daisies aspect out of your dates. Although our experience has been far from sexy, it has been peculiarly romantic.
Nobody writes songs about sitting on the edge of the tub while a man applies topical antibiotics to your oozing skin graft. There are no poetic odes to women with gaping scars, no sonnets to men who may be wearing the same shirt for the third day in a row.
But maybe there should be, because everything I thought I knew about love at 24 seems pretty absurd now. I didn’t know then that a wonderful relationship would one day become unsustainable. I couldn’t have imagined that later on, strangely enough, it would become a new kind of wonderful.
The wedding ring I so optimistically slipped onto my finger long ago, the same one I despondently removed many years later, is now permanently retired. But I wear a small moonstone on my hand, the symbol of hope. Hope for healing in all its forms.
Neither of us sees the world in guarantees anymore. We recognize them as the comforting fictions they are. We accept that you can’t always keep the promises you made when you were barely above drinking age. You can’t know how you will change, or what life will throw at you.
Having our marriage fall apart and having disease come in and try very hard to kill me did away with our cozy assumptions that the future looks just like the past, but with more laugh lines. But he and I have learned, because we have had to, the difference between the illusion of security and the liberating joy of the present, between obligation and choice.
And choice, terrifying as it can be, is so much better. We had to leave each other to discover that: to understand what it really means to decide to be with a person, one day at a time, however many days there may be. Love isn’t a fortress. It isn’t a locked room. It’s full of doors and windows and escape hatches, and they’re not scary. They’re how, to paraphrase Leonard Cohen, the light gets in.
A few weeks ago, after an exhausting round of tests and doctor appointments, we flopped together into bed, almost too tired to speak. We watched the ceiling fan spin, lulled by its hypnotic rhythm, until at last he spoke just six words: “I’m glad I didn’t lose you.”
I looked into semidarkness at the man I love, the man I once left, and said, “I’m glad I didn’t lose you, too.”
Saturday, March 15, 2014
DATING: FINDING A QUALITY WOMAN
One thing is for sure....dating these days can be extremely draining....especially for us single man. Speaking from a single male perspective, I find it extremely difficult to keep going on and on and on...meeting, dating, becoming interested, only to find myself disappointed, frustrated and back to square one.
As a heterosexual man, with standards, I think that it is a shame that it's so difficult to find a good, decent woman to fall in love with! I like to think that I am a good catch! I'm educated, close to my family, I work, no children, a doctor, I have my own house, car, and needless to say....I think i'm attractive :)....so really, I can't understand why dating has become such a task for me! Not saying that I'm perfect, because I am flawed just like the rest, but I promise you, my good qualities out weigh the bad.
There must be good QUALITY and ATTRACTIVE women out there! Why must we have such a hard time finding QUALITY women??? If I knew the answer to that, I would be a billionaire and off in a villa in Tahiti right this moment!
Now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a hopeless romantic, because regrettably I am. I can't help it, I just love LOVE! I love to see people in love and in healthy relationships. Oddly, it gives me hope. Sure, sometimes I get around others who have seemed to find their love or they are married and seem to be so happy and I may feel a brief moment of saddness that I am not able to experience that feeling, but at the end of the day, I am glad that someone I care about is able to experience what so many of us single have yet to experience or experience again. I refuse to be a hater...I think it's bad business for me to be jealous of someone else's happiness and love.....just for fear that I may mess up my "love karma".
I'm sure some of you ladies who are feeling the same way I am would agree that dating should not be this hard!! I simply find it exhausting to be out there on the dating scene when it seems that the pickings of good women are slim to none. I don't know about you, but I AM ABSOLUTELY TIRED OF meeting women who can't bring anything to the table but a headache and confusion! I'm tired of scraping the bottom of the barrel hoping to find my queen of hearts!
What's a guy to do? The people will often say "Don't look for her, let her find you", "Pray about it and God will send your one", or my favorite "Your time is coming".... (mind you, doesn't it seem that always comes from your guys that are already married or in long-term relationships....smh lol). I know they mean well, but it is so easy for them to forget how being single and out here dating these days feels when they have lucked up to get the love they have been waiting for. To tell you the truth...let me luck and find a woman, I will forget how it feels too! So who can blame them? I can't! But the fact is, you feel some kinda way when someone who isn't in your shoes at that moment is telling you how the shoe feels.
Woman come a dime a dozen, but a quality woman is like finding a needle in a hay stack. I don't believe that all women are bad...I KNOW there are still some good women out there. The challenge is....not letting the dating scene exhaust you to the point of frustration. I teeter on this all the time. I can't tell you how frustrated I get when I meet a woman who has no concept of what it means to be a WOMAN. She isn't working, she's out in the club poppin' bottles every week, she staying at home still with her parents, etc and she feels it's okay to piggy-back on what you have. If it isn't that, then there's "Ms. Right Now"....the one who has no interest in genuinely being involved, she just wants your goodies and willing to do and say whatever she needs in order to make it happen.
My quest to find Ms. Right has become such an exhausting ordeal, I even wonder if it is meant for me to encounter that "enchanting love experience". I don't know....but I do know that eventually, something has got to give and get better....it sure can't get no worse!
As a heterosexual man, with standards, I think that it is a shame that it's so difficult to find a good, decent woman to fall in love with! I like to think that I am a good catch! I'm educated, close to my family, I work, no children, a doctor, I have my own house, car, and needless to say....I think i'm attractive :)....so really, I can't understand why dating has become such a task for me! Not saying that I'm perfect, because I am flawed just like the rest, but I promise you, my good qualities out weigh the bad.
There must be good QUALITY and ATTRACTIVE women out there! Why must we have such a hard time finding QUALITY women??? If I knew the answer to that, I would be a billionaire and off in a villa in Tahiti right this moment!
Now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a hopeless romantic, because regrettably I am. I can't help it, I just love LOVE! I love to see people in love and in healthy relationships. Oddly, it gives me hope. Sure, sometimes I get around others who have seemed to find their love or they are married and seem to be so happy and I may feel a brief moment of saddness that I am not able to experience that feeling, but at the end of the day, I am glad that someone I care about is able to experience what so many of us single have yet to experience or experience again. I refuse to be a hater...I think it's bad business for me to be jealous of someone else's happiness and love.....just for fear that I may mess up my "love karma".
I'm sure some of you ladies who are feeling the same way I am would agree that dating should not be this hard!! I simply find it exhausting to be out there on the dating scene when it seems that the pickings of good women are slim to none. I don't know about you, but I AM ABSOLUTELY TIRED OF meeting women who can't bring anything to the table but a headache and confusion! I'm tired of scraping the bottom of the barrel hoping to find my queen of hearts!
What's a guy to do? The people will often say "Don't look for her, let her find you", "Pray about it and God will send your one", or my favorite "Your time is coming".... (mind you, doesn't it seem that always comes from your guys that are already married or in long-term relationships....smh lol). I know they mean well, but it is so easy for them to forget how being single and out here dating these days feels when they have lucked up to get the love they have been waiting for. To tell you the truth...let me luck and find a woman, I will forget how it feels too! So who can blame them? I can't! But the fact is, you feel some kinda way when someone who isn't in your shoes at that moment is telling you how the shoe feels.
Woman come a dime a dozen, but a quality woman is like finding a needle in a hay stack. I don't believe that all women are bad...I KNOW there are still some good women out there. The challenge is....not letting the dating scene exhaust you to the point of frustration. I teeter on this all the time. I can't tell you how frustrated I get when I meet a woman who has no concept of what it means to be a WOMAN. She isn't working, she's out in the club poppin' bottles every week, she staying at home still with her parents, etc and she feels it's okay to piggy-back on what you have. If it isn't that, then there's "Ms. Right Now"....the one who has no interest in genuinely being involved, she just wants your goodies and willing to do and say whatever she needs in order to make it happen.
My quest to find Ms. Right has become such an exhausting ordeal, I even wonder if it is meant for me to encounter that "enchanting love experience". I don't know....but I do know that eventually, something has got to give and get better....it sure can't get no worse!
ARTICLE: What Lou Reed Taught Me About Love By LISA SELIN DAVIS
When Lou Reed died last year, I learned via Facebook just how many friends had chosen “I’ll Be Your Mirror” as their wedding song. I wasn’t one of them, but that song, more than any other, taught me about love.
I listened to it endlessly the summer I was 16, when my father strongly suggested that, if I wanted to stay in his house for the summer, as the divorce agreement had decreed, I take a job doing hard physical labor in Saratoga Spa State Parkin upstate New York. It was called the Youth Conservation Corps, but it seemed like a kind of boot camp for wayward teenagers like me.
The job paid $3.35 an hour for digging trenches, building footbridges and learning about anger management and the medical uses of jewelweed, which grew wild along the creek. My father’s idea was to heal me through hard work and the grounding power of nature.
The work was torture; I was cut out for songwriting, not construction. But the worst part was riding my Fuji 12-speed there with a green hard hat on the rear rack while wearing ocher-colored work boots: boy poison, I thought.
Though I was disturbingly experienced (my older friends had introduced me to a variety of adult activities I shouldn’t have known for years), I’d never had actual sex or an actual boyfriend or been in love, and I wanted those more than anything.
After work one day, as I pulled my bike into our backyard, a boy was sitting there with my dad. My father was the local guitar teacher, and sometimes gloriously stringy-haired rocker kids arrived at the house for lessons. This one wore beige shorts stained with bike grease, a yellow-and-blue-striped rugby shirt, and — the apogee of attractiveness (for me) — very long red hair.
I had seen him before at parties with my friends, and each time I had tried to get his attention the only way I knew: by expounding on how depressed and in pain I was, speaking loudly about the drugs and stealing and temper tantrums, thinking this would make me attractive by way of emotional depth. I knew things about his family. There was some overlap of demons. But he never seemed to know me.
This time he looked up. I was desperate to hide, as if a searchlight had found me. I went inside and stood at the screen door and watched as my father taught the beautiful boy the Travis style of fingerpicking.
At work, I wore scratchy work gloves and pulled tenacious weeds from the side of the creek bed, and daydreamed anxiously of the boy with the long red hair. Every day I hoped to see him, but I feared it, too, lest he see me with my hard hat and work boots.
And then one Saturday afternoon I saw him leap into the water beneath the Hadley-Luzerne Bridge, the place where the Hudson and Sacandaga Rivers meet, 40 minutes north of Saratoga. It was a magical spot with a rope swing and swirls of black water, where my friends and I spent lazy afternoons and played guitars on the rocks. He had pale freckles all over his chest and collarbone that formed a beautiful dent below his neck. He mumbled hello to me.
I knew nothing about how to interest a boy, but I took off my nonwork clothes — tank top and cutoff jeans — and went in the river in my bra and underwear. I played the full tablature of Neil Young’s “Needle and the Damage Done” on the guitar. I put my body next to his as much as possible, standing close whenever I could.
A few days later the phone rang. My father answered, his face momentarily registering confusion as he handed the phone to me. The voice was so low and mumbly that I couldn’t understand who it was or what he was saying, and that moment of intense awkwardness seemed interminable until I realized it was him, and he was asking me if I wanted to go swimming at Hadley-Luzerne. Somehow I managed to say yes, even though I couldn’t breathe. He had asked me on an actual date. I had taken LSD and made out with strangers at the Holiday Inn, but I had never been on a date.
He picked me up in his battered yellow Subaru station wagon, and we drove north, listening to the band X. It started pouring. We ducked into a cafe, and he ordered coffee. I had never had coffee. I pretended I drank it black. It was bitter and gross and the best thing I ever tasted, because he liked it.
The rain didn’t stop, so we went back to his house and listened to the Replacements. He had a job fixing bikes, and he smelled like something tangy called Corn Huskers Lotion, which he used to get the grease off. Nothing else happened that day, but I was so happy, it hurt.
After that I kept seeing him — walking downtown, going to concerts — but we never touched. Then one Saturday night we met at our friend’s radio show at the local college, and he and I took a walk.
The night was warm and smelled of jewelweed, and there were meteor showers. He had that beautiful hair and the freckly collarbone, and it was too much. The waiting had become intolerable. I stopped, turned toward him and said, “What’s going on here?” I was almost whining. “What’s happening?”
He grew quiet and looked down at his shoes. He mumbled again. I think he said, “I like you.” But then he looked me clear in the eye and asked, “Can I kiss you?”
No one had ever said that to me. No one had ever been so solicitous and gentle and kind. No one had ever wanted me that way. They had used me that way, but never wanted me. I kissed him on the cheek as fast as I could and ran away, back to the radio station, amid the shelves of records and their musty cardboard smell. In this age of Pandora and Spotify, records still smell like romance to me.
Ten minutes later he found me there, pretending to study the cover of Janis Joplin and Big Brother and the Holding Company’s “Cheap Thrills.” I couldn’t look at him. He whispered, his hot breath on my hair: “Um, that wasn’t really what I meant.”
We went to his house. He sat on the couch, I on the floor, and he made this awkward attempt to rub my shoulders. I was more on fire with desire and anticipation than I had ever been in my life, and as he leaned down to kiss me I scooted to the other side of the room.
“Why do you like me?” I asked him. “Why are you interested in me?”
I was just stalling, but he actually paused to consider the question. “O.K.,” he said. “I’ll tell you.” He said I was cute and funny and good at the Travis style of fingerpicking and had good taste in music, which among our crowd was the highest compliment.
My heart seemed to break upon hearing this list, but in a good way. Everyone else in my life could rattle off a list of my faults, but the beautiful boy saw what was on the other side of my misdeeds. Just as in the lyrics to “I’ll Be Your Mirror,” it seemed he was able to see the beauty in me that I couldn’t.
He had his face very close to mine, that smell of cheap shampoo and Corn Huskers Lotion, and then he said: “I knew I really liked you when I saw you on your bike with the work boots and hard hat.”
I kissed him then. My teeth hit his and my mouth was open too much and it was messy and delicious and terrifying, and then we fell into a rhythm. I kissed him for the entire B-side of REM’s “Reckoning.” I kissed him so much I went home that night with red, swollen lips. I don’t think I ever experienced a physical sensation better than that burn. It seemed to wipe clean the dirty slate of my childhood.
I lost track of him years ago. I don’t know where he lives or what he does. I don’t know him digitally. I think of him only in analog: all that love twisted up with my records, which long ago warped and mildewed in my mother’s basement. But the lesson from “I’ll Be Your Mirror,” that someone can love me for what shames me most, remained. I sing those same lyrics to my daughter before bed.
The conservation job ended late that August. My soul — or my depression or anger-management problems — hadn’t been repaired by it. I hadn’t learned about hard work or resilience or any of the things the program was designed to teach me. But I was healed, just as that love song promised.
I listened to it endlessly the summer I was 16, when my father strongly suggested that, if I wanted to stay in his house for the summer, as the divorce agreement had decreed, I take a job doing hard physical labor in Saratoga Spa State Parkin upstate New York. It was called the Youth Conservation Corps, but it seemed like a kind of boot camp for wayward teenagers like me.
The job paid $3.35 an hour for digging trenches, building footbridges and learning about anger management and the medical uses of jewelweed, which grew wild along the creek. My father’s idea was to heal me through hard work and the grounding power of nature.
The work was torture; I was cut out for songwriting, not construction. But the worst part was riding my Fuji 12-speed there with a green hard hat on the rear rack while wearing ocher-colored work boots: boy poison, I thought.
Though I was disturbingly experienced (my older friends had introduced me to a variety of adult activities I shouldn’t have known for years), I’d never had actual sex or an actual boyfriend or been in love, and I wanted those more than anything.
After work one day, as I pulled my bike into our backyard, a boy was sitting there with my dad. My father was the local guitar teacher, and sometimes gloriously stringy-haired rocker kids arrived at the house for lessons. This one wore beige shorts stained with bike grease, a yellow-and-blue-striped rugby shirt, and — the apogee of attractiveness (for me) — very long red hair.
I had seen him before at parties with my friends, and each time I had tried to get his attention the only way I knew: by expounding on how depressed and in pain I was, speaking loudly about the drugs and stealing and temper tantrums, thinking this would make me attractive by way of emotional depth. I knew things about his family. There was some overlap of demons. But he never seemed to know me.
This time he looked up. I was desperate to hide, as if a searchlight had found me. I went inside and stood at the screen door and watched as my father taught the beautiful boy the Travis style of fingerpicking.
At work, I wore scratchy work gloves and pulled tenacious weeds from the side of the creek bed, and daydreamed anxiously of the boy with the long red hair. Every day I hoped to see him, but I feared it, too, lest he see me with my hard hat and work boots.
And then one Saturday afternoon I saw him leap into the water beneath the Hadley-Luzerne Bridge, the place where the Hudson and Sacandaga Rivers meet, 40 minutes north of Saratoga. It was a magical spot with a rope swing and swirls of black water, where my friends and I spent lazy afternoons and played guitars on the rocks. He had pale freckles all over his chest and collarbone that formed a beautiful dent below his neck. He mumbled hello to me.
I knew nothing about how to interest a boy, but I took off my nonwork clothes — tank top and cutoff jeans — and went in the river in my bra and underwear. I played the full tablature of Neil Young’s “Needle and the Damage Done” on the guitar. I put my body next to his as much as possible, standing close whenever I could.
A few days later the phone rang. My father answered, his face momentarily registering confusion as he handed the phone to me. The voice was so low and mumbly that I couldn’t understand who it was or what he was saying, and that moment of intense awkwardness seemed interminable until I realized it was him, and he was asking me if I wanted to go swimming at Hadley-Luzerne. Somehow I managed to say yes, even though I couldn’t breathe. He had asked me on an actual date. I had taken LSD and made out with strangers at the Holiday Inn, but I had never been on a date.
He picked me up in his battered yellow Subaru station wagon, and we drove north, listening to the band X. It started pouring. We ducked into a cafe, and he ordered coffee. I had never had coffee. I pretended I drank it black. It was bitter and gross and the best thing I ever tasted, because he liked it.
The rain didn’t stop, so we went back to his house and listened to the Replacements. He had a job fixing bikes, and he smelled like something tangy called Corn Huskers Lotion, which he used to get the grease off. Nothing else happened that day, but I was so happy, it hurt.
After that I kept seeing him — walking downtown, going to concerts — but we never touched. Then one Saturday night we met at our friend’s radio show at the local college, and he and I took a walk.
The night was warm and smelled of jewelweed, and there were meteor showers. He had that beautiful hair and the freckly collarbone, and it was too much. The waiting had become intolerable. I stopped, turned toward him and said, “What’s going on here?” I was almost whining. “What’s happening?”
He grew quiet and looked down at his shoes. He mumbled again. I think he said, “I like you.” But then he looked me clear in the eye and asked, “Can I kiss you?”
No one had ever said that to me. No one had ever been so solicitous and gentle and kind. No one had ever wanted me that way. They had used me that way, but never wanted me. I kissed him on the cheek as fast as I could and ran away, back to the radio station, amid the shelves of records and their musty cardboard smell. In this age of Pandora and Spotify, records still smell like romance to me.
Ten minutes later he found me there, pretending to study the cover of Janis Joplin and Big Brother and the Holding Company’s “Cheap Thrills.” I couldn’t look at him. He whispered, his hot breath on my hair: “Um, that wasn’t really what I meant.”
We went to his house. He sat on the couch, I on the floor, and he made this awkward attempt to rub my shoulders. I was more on fire with desire and anticipation than I had ever been in my life, and as he leaned down to kiss me I scooted to the other side of the room.
“Why do you like me?” I asked him. “Why are you interested in me?”
I was just stalling, but he actually paused to consider the question. “O.K.,” he said. “I’ll tell you.” He said I was cute and funny and good at the Travis style of fingerpicking and had good taste in music, which among our crowd was the highest compliment.
My heart seemed to break upon hearing this list, but in a good way. Everyone else in my life could rattle off a list of my faults, but the beautiful boy saw what was on the other side of my misdeeds. Just as in the lyrics to “I’ll Be Your Mirror,” it seemed he was able to see the beauty in me that I couldn’t.
He had his face very close to mine, that smell of cheap shampoo and Corn Huskers Lotion, and then he said: “I knew I really liked you when I saw you on your bike with the work boots and hard hat.”
I kissed him then. My teeth hit his and my mouth was open too much and it was messy and delicious and terrifying, and then we fell into a rhythm. I kissed him for the entire B-side of REM’s “Reckoning.” I kissed him so much I went home that night with red, swollen lips. I don’t think I ever experienced a physical sensation better than that burn. It seemed to wipe clean the dirty slate of my childhood.
I lost track of him years ago. I don’t know where he lives or what he does. I don’t know him digitally. I think of him only in analog: all that love twisted up with my records, which long ago warped and mildewed in my mother’s basement. But the lesson from “I’ll Be Your Mirror,” that someone can love me for what shames me most, remained. I sing those same lyrics to my daughter before bed.
The conservation job ended late that August. My soul — or my depression or anger-management problems — hadn’t been repaired by it. I hadn’t learned about hard work or resilience or any of the things the program was designed to teach me. But I was healed, just as that love song promised.
Friday, March 14, 2014
DATING/LOVE: SO MANY WOMAN TRYING TO IMPRESS
I've been on a number of first dates, or early dates anyway, during which the girl essentially tried convincing me that she was hot shit. This hasn't typically been outright bragging. In fact, I think in all instances that I can recall, the girl has ostensibly just been telling me about her dating history or personal experiences. But her narrative has been laced with comments about how she is usually the one to end relationships, or how she goes on a lot of first dates, or how she just can't seem to find someone that is intelligent but confident, extroverted but thoughtful, good looking but humble, etc. - all of which imply that she has options with men and is generally amazing. Other girls have talked almost immediately and incessantly about how much they've traveled, or their multiple degrees, or their great jobs. Their underlying message is "See? I am a great catch; you should want to date me." They are talking themselves up.
This doesn't annoy me or turn me off from a girl. As I said, it is usually stated very casually and comes across as factual rather than arrogant or cocky. I've never thought "Wow, this girl is full of herself," or decided that I shouldn't hang out with her again because of it. In most instances I've just listened, and quitely acknowledged that the girl was trying to put her best foot forward. Yet in most cases, after getting to know her, I've been the one to end the relationship and she's been the one trying to hold on. And she's looked stupid because, after coming in with such an obvious "look how great I am" speech, she's been the one to walk away unwanted. When pride comes before the fall it makes you look stupid, even if it isn't your pride that causes the fall.
This doesn't annoy me or turn me off from a girl. As I said, it is usually stated very casually and comes across as factual rather than arrogant or cocky. I've never thought "Wow, this girl is full of herself," or decided that I shouldn't hang out with her again because of it. In most instances I've just listened, and quitely acknowledged that the girl was trying to put her best foot forward. Yet in most cases, after getting to know her, I've been the one to end the relationship and she's been the one trying to hold on. And she's looked stupid because, after coming in with such an obvious "look how great I am" speech, she's been the one to walk away unwanted. When pride comes before the fall it makes you look stupid, even if it isn't your pride that causes the fall.
DEAR SOULMATE
Dear Soulmate
Eyes deep..filled with mystery. And deep inside sparkles curiosity.The word "beautiful", does not describe, Your beauty in my warmed insides.It's warmth I have kept.I'm going to make you part of me. You're going to be a part of my soul. Every breath you take I'll take it with you. And in every thought of mine, You'll be there to make me smile and forget my sorrows.And every tear you shed I'll be there to help you through your pain. With every day that passes by I will love you even more. And when we grow old and there is no more tomorrow, I want to be there by your side 'Cause when the day comes to leave it all behind, I want to know that every day of my life was spent with you by my side.The desiring my heart has for you is so amazing, I can't explain- your touch, your tender sweet kisses have left me someone new and I'll never be the same. Every time I'm sitting alone and my mind drifts far away, I rest upon a memory of you and I, and smile, reccollecting what we did that day.The way your eyes search my body as if they're looking for something exquisite, and once they seem to find what they're looking for, there they sit.Your hands explore me up and down,I know the love we share will always be around.Every time you come near me my knees grow weak, then you wrap your arms around me and your lips touch mine- it's a feeling so divine.I'll never let you go,you say you won't leave because you found someone you love, and this, I should know.I still have the fear deep within my heart,that someone else will take you away, if they notice how intriguing you are.You say that even if someone does, it won't change a thing,because you and I have love, something no one can take away, and to you that alone, that's everything. I love you my darling, my one and only everything,my world revolves around you, you are my reason for being.But now I must go, for I am late for a night alone with you,never forget how much I care about us, and to you, my heart will always and forever be true.
Eyes deep..filled with mystery. And deep inside sparkles curiosity.The word "beautiful", does not describe, Your beauty in my warmed insides.It's warmth I have kept.I'm going to make you part of me. You're going to be a part of my soul. Every breath you take I'll take it with you. And in every thought of mine, You'll be there to make me smile and forget my sorrows.And every tear you shed I'll be there to help you through your pain. With every day that passes by I will love you even more. And when we grow old and there is no more tomorrow, I want to be there by your side 'Cause when the day comes to leave it all behind, I want to know that every day of my life was spent with you by my side.The desiring my heart has for you is so amazing, I can't explain- your touch, your tender sweet kisses have left me someone new and I'll never be the same. Every time I'm sitting alone and my mind drifts far away, I rest upon a memory of you and I, and smile, reccollecting what we did that day.The way your eyes search my body as if they're looking for something exquisite, and once they seem to find what they're looking for, there they sit.Your hands explore me up and down,I know the love we share will always be around.Every time you come near me my knees grow weak, then you wrap your arms around me and your lips touch mine- it's a feeling so divine.I'll never let you go,you say you won't leave because you found someone you love, and this, I should know.I still have the fear deep within my heart,that someone else will take you away, if they notice how intriguing you are.You say that even if someone does, it won't change a thing,because you and I have love, something no one can take away, and to you that alone, that's everything. I love you my darling, my one and only everything,my world revolves around you, you are my reason for being.But now I must go, for I am late for a night alone with you,never forget how much I care about us, and to you, my heart will always and forever be true.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
ARTICLE....NEW YORK POST:8 reasons why New York women can’t get a husband By Jane Ridley
Last year, Susan Patton, a Princeton grad and the mother of two sons at the elite college, outraged feminists when she wrote an open letter to the Daily Princetonian telling female students to find a husband on campus before they graduate.
The red alert — which argued that these Ivy League college girls “would never again be surrounded by this concentration of men who would be worthy of you” — went viral with more than 100 million hits.
Now Patton, an independent HR consultant who lives on Manhattan’s Upper East Side and who’s been dubbed “Princeton Mom,” has capitalized on her fame with an old-fashioned dating manual, “Marry Smart.” Published this week, the book argues that coeds have a limited shelf life “as young, beautiful [women who are] as attractive to men or as fertile” and advises them to spend three-quarters of their time in school on the hunt for Mr. Right.
But what happens if you missed your shot and didn’t get that all-important MRS certificate along with your liberal arts degree?
Nil desperandum, says Patton. She believes that, even in the dog-eat-dog dating jungle that is New York, there is hope for single career women between the ages of 22 and 35 (yes, that’s her cutoff) who also want marriage and babies.
“These women are spinsters-in-training, but they can turn it around,” says the 50-something divorcée. “They need to apply the same attitude and gumption that got them to New York City to the task of getting a husband.”
So listen up, unattached ladies! Here’s where Princeton Mom thinks you’re going wrong:
1
You drink too much
Modal Trigger
The lush life may help NYC gals relieve stress, but it won't help land a suitable man for wedded bliss.
The ubiquitous “happy hour” sign outside your favorite bar might be beckoning — according to a recent study, binge drinking is on the rise here in NYC — but think before you dash through the doors of Dorrian’s for a 50-cent beer to ease your work stress. “Honestly, do you think that you’re at your most attractive when you are drunk, slurring your words and on the verge of puking?” asks Patton. “You’re not, and by drinking to excess, you put yourself at risk. Women who are sloppy drunks are a huge turnoff, as is the smell of puke on your hair.” You should also question whether a Second Avenue dive that shutters at 4 a.m. is the best hunting ground for love. “At best, it’s an undignified place to meet men; at worst, it’s a dangerous place to encounter possible psychopaths,” warns Patton. Her preferred spots to nab that life partner? The Metropolitan Museum, the Guggenheim, MoMA. “Any museum is a safe and very reasonable place to engage in conversation with strangers over Monet’s brilliant use of light, Mondrian’s cubist overtones or Calder’s playfulness,” she observes.
2
You might as well be married to your iPhone
Modal Trigger
Ladies, put down that smart phone -- it's a potential husband killer! Instead, "Princeton Mom" Susan Patton suggests holding your head high -- and smiling.
You’ll never hear wedding bells when you’re constantly bent over an electronic device with your earbuds in. “When you walk through Grand Central Station, Central Park or down Madison Avenue — hold your head high and get in the habit of looking people in the eye,” says Patton. “Smile. Look like you’d be nice to speak with — welcoming, warm, charming. You can’t do any of that if you are hunched over your laptop or iPad.” Instead, it’s time to wise up, smell the spring flowers and go for a walk at lunchtime.
3
You wear too much black
Modal Trigger
Avoid black, boyish outfits and choose chic, flirty frocks in bright, welcoming colors instead.
New York women may be known for their fashion sense, but black clothing, severe silhouettes and the kind of avant garb made famous by local fashionista Leandra Medine (a k a the Man Repeller) are all no-no’s. “Anything that makes a woman look like she’s dressing as a man” is to be avoided, says Patton. In other words, you can’t go wrong with a pastel-colored frock. “You should dress with more sophistication,” says Patton, whose favorite designer is Tahari. Another Patton peeve is the gal who wears no makeup, even when she’s jogging around the Prospect Park loop at 7 a.m. “If you are in serious husband-hunting mode, don’t leave your apartment unless you look so good that you’d be delighted to run into your ex-boyfriend,” she adds. “Remember, your body hasn’t yet been ravaged by childbirth, and presumably you’ve kept yourself healthy and attractive. You have to make the best of this time.”
4
You're dating too many guys at work
Modal Trigger
Joan bedded her boss Roger Sterling on "Mad Men."
Seeing as you spend most of your waking hours in the office, you might be tempted to make like Joan Holloway from “Mad Men” with your very own Roger Sterling (above). But show Patton a career girl who thinks she’ll find the man of her dreams at the office, and she’ll show you a future “old lady with cats.” “Women tend to be attracted to men at work who are older than they are and more senior,” she says. “When those love affairs end — and they almost always end — it’s the junior-position woman who is forced to find a new job or remain there feeling awkward.” Besides, you shouldn’t be “fishing off the company pier,” anyway. “Don’t mix your business and personal life,” adds Patton. As for married men, you already know the score. “He’s not leaving his wife for you. And if he would cheat with you, he’ll cheat on you,” says Patton. Quit wasting your time with unsuitable men. “Bad boys can be fun to fool around with, and women do have needs, but stay away from these pigs for the sake of a little sausage.”
5
You spend too much time with your gay best friend
Modal Trigger
On "Girls," Elijah may be fun to hang out with, but Hannah will never get to the altar if she spends all her time with her gay pal.
Do the funnest of your funnest nights out always end up at Therapy? We know they’re a blast, but it’s time to ditch your gay pals for a while and shop in a more appropriate market. “Your gay boyfriends are wonderful, but they are not marriage material,” says Patton. “They’ll understand if you explain why you have to spend a little less time with them until you find your man. There may not be many prospects for you on Christopher Street, but your homosexual friends may know straight guys who might be appropriate for you.” Let them know that you’d consider it a favor.
6
You're ignoring your biological clock
Don't put your ambitions for motherhood on hold for your career.
In a city like New York, where a girl is bombarded by subway ads for IVF clinics, fertility endocrinologists and all manner of assisted reproduction techniques, it’s all too easy to put your ambitions for motherhood on hold. “No, no, no, no,” shrieks Patton. “If you aspire to motherhood within marriage, you have a limited window of opportunity within which to find a husband and bear your own children.” To all those women who want to have children naturally, with the support of a husband, she sounds an unapologetic wake-up call. “You are not getting any younger,” says Patton. “But the women you are competing with to get the men you’re interested in marrying are most certainly getting younger.”
7
You hook up too much
Young, career-obsessed New York women are only too happy to hop in the sack without any long-term plans — witness the rising popularity of hookup apps like Tinder. But Patton takes a dim view of casual sex. “Men lose interest in women that are easier to make than a peanut butter sandwich,” she insists. “If you offer men sex without commitment, you eliminate the incentive for them to commit.” Granny was right: Men won’t buy the cow if the milk is free. “The women who troll the Meatpacking District are in the business of one-night stands, but if you are looking for a more substantial relationship, you have to pace yourself and engage in a very slow dance towards intimacy,” she warns. Patton also thinks you should keep details of your sex life to yourself. “Who you have sex with is your private business, so keep it private,” she says. “Talking about your hookups (or complaining about them) reflects badly on your judgment and your character.”
8
You over-rely on NYC conveniences
Yes, you’re stressed out and tired and you can get virtually anything delivered to you in this great city. But Seamless, FreshDirect and Netflix are making you lazy and, if Chinese is your takeout of choice, fat. “Everybody works hard, and at the end of a long day it’s great to order in tapas and binge on a ‘House of Cards’ marathon,” says Patton. “But you won’t meet anybody new in your studio walk-up.” So, slip off the Slanket and get out into the world. As a dog lover, Patton (who owns a dachshund named Lucille) firmly believes in the power of the canine-concocted romance. “Grab a leash, your lipstick and go for a walk in the park — if you’ve trained your dog well, they can act as your wingman.”
The red alert — which argued that these Ivy League college girls “would never again be surrounded by this concentration of men who would be worthy of you” — went viral with more than 100 million hits.
Now Patton, an independent HR consultant who lives on Manhattan’s Upper East Side and who’s been dubbed “Princeton Mom,” has capitalized on her fame with an old-fashioned dating manual, “Marry Smart.” Published this week, the book argues that coeds have a limited shelf life “as young, beautiful [women who are] as attractive to men or as fertile” and advises them to spend three-quarters of their time in school on the hunt for Mr. Right.
But what happens if you missed your shot and didn’t get that all-important MRS certificate along with your liberal arts degree?
Nil desperandum, says Patton. She believes that, even in the dog-eat-dog dating jungle that is New York, there is hope for single career women between the ages of 22 and 35 (yes, that’s her cutoff) who also want marriage and babies.
“These women are spinsters-in-training, but they can turn it around,” says the 50-something divorcée. “They need to apply the same attitude and gumption that got them to New York City to the task of getting a husband.”
So listen up, unattached ladies! Here’s where Princeton Mom thinks you’re going wrong:
1
You drink too much
Modal Trigger
The lush life may help NYC gals relieve stress, but it won't help land a suitable man for wedded bliss.
The ubiquitous “happy hour” sign outside your favorite bar might be beckoning — according to a recent study, binge drinking is on the rise here in NYC — but think before you dash through the doors of Dorrian’s for a 50-cent beer to ease your work stress. “Honestly, do you think that you’re at your most attractive when you are drunk, slurring your words and on the verge of puking?” asks Patton. “You’re not, and by drinking to excess, you put yourself at risk. Women who are sloppy drunks are a huge turnoff, as is the smell of puke on your hair.” You should also question whether a Second Avenue dive that shutters at 4 a.m. is the best hunting ground for love. “At best, it’s an undignified place to meet men; at worst, it’s a dangerous place to encounter possible psychopaths,” warns Patton. Her preferred spots to nab that life partner? The Metropolitan Museum, the Guggenheim, MoMA. “Any museum is a safe and very reasonable place to engage in conversation with strangers over Monet’s brilliant use of light, Mondrian’s cubist overtones or Calder’s playfulness,” she observes.
2
You might as well be married to your iPhone
Modal Trigger
Ladies, put down that smart phone -- it's a potential husband killer! Instead, "Princeton Mom" Susan Patton suggests holding your head high -- and smiling.
You’ll never hear wedding bells when you’re constantly bent over an electronic device with your earbuds in. “When you walk through Grand Central Station, Central Park or down Madison Avenue — hold your head high and get in the habit of looking people in the eye,” says Patton. “Smile. Look like you’d be nice to speak with — welcoming, warm, charming. You can’t do any of that if you are hunched over your laptop or iPad.” Instead, it’s time to wise up, smell the spring flowers and go for a walk at lunchtime.
3
You wear too much black
Modal Trigger
Avoid black, boyish outfits and choose chic, flirty frocks in bright, welcoming colors instead.
New York women may be known for their fashion sense, but black clothing, severe silhouettes and the kind of avant garb made famous by local fashionista Leandra Medine (a k a the Man Repeller) are all no-no’s. “Anything that makes a woman look like she’s dressing as a man” is to be avoided, says Patton. In other words, you can’t go wrong with a pastel-colored frock. “You should dress with more sophistication,” says Patton, whose favorite designer is Tahari. Another Patton peeve is the gal who wears no makeup, even when she’s jogging around the Prospect Park loop at 7 a.m. “If you are in serious husband-hunting mode, don’t leave your apartment unless you look so good that you’d be delighted to run into your ex-boyfriend,” she adds. “Remember, your body hasn’t yet been ravaged by childbirth, and presumably you’ve kept yourself healthy and attractive. You have to make the best of this time.”
4
You're dating too many guys at work
Modal Trigger
Joan bedded her boss Roger Sterling on "Mad Men."
Seeing as you spend most of your waking hours in the office, you might be tempted to make like Joan Holloway from “Mad Men” with your very own Roger Sterling (above). But show Patton a career girl who thinks she’ll find the man of her dreams at the office, and she’ll show you a future “old lady with cats.” “Women tend to be attracted to men at work who are older than they are and more senior,” she says. “When those love affairs end — and they almost always end — it’s the junior-position woman who is forced to find a new job or remain there feeling awkward.” Besides, you shouldn’t be “fishing off the company pier,” anyway. “Don’t mix your business and personal life,” adds Patton. As for married men, you already know the score. “He’s not leaving his wife for you. And if he would cheat with you, he’ll cheat on you,” says Patton. Quit wasting your time with unsuitable men. “Bad boys can be fun to fool around with, and women do have needs, but stay away from these pigs for the sake of a little sausage.”
5
You spend too much time with your gay best friend
Modal Trigger
On "Girls," Elijah may be fun to hang out with, but Hannah will never get to the altar if she spends all her time with her gay pal.
Do the funnest of your funnest nights out always end up at Therapy? We know they’re a blast, but it’s time to ditch your gay pals for a while and shop in a more appropriate market. “Your gay boyfriends are wonderful, but they are not marriage material,” says Patton. “They’ll understand if you explain why you have to spend a little less time with them until you find your man. There may not be many prospects for you on Christopher Street, but your homosexual friends may know straight guys who might be appropriate for you.” Let them know that you’d consider it a favor.
6
You're ignoring your biological clock
Don't put your ambitions for motherhood on hold for your career.
In a city like New York, where a girl is bombarded by subway ads for IVF clinics, fertility endocrinologists and all manner of assisted reproduction techniques, it’s all too easy to put your ambitions for motherhood on hold. “No, no, no, no,” shrieks Patton. “If you aspire to motherhood within marriage, you have a limited window of opportunity within which to find a husband and bear your own children.” To all those women who want to have children naturally, with the support of a husband, she sounds an unapologetic wake-up call. “You are not getting any younger,” says Patton. “But the women you are competing with to get the men you’re interested in marrying are most certainly getting younger.”
7
You hook up too much
Young, career-obsessed New York women are only too happy to hop in the sack without any long-term plans — witness the rising popularity of hookup apps like Tinder. But Patton takes a dim view of casual sex. “Men lose interest in women that are easier to make than a peanut butter sandwich,” she insists. “If you offer men sex without commitment, you eliminate the incentive for them to commit.” Granny was right: Men won’t buy the cow if the milk is free. “The women who troll the Meatpacking District are in the business of one-night stands, but if you are looking for a more substantial relationship, you have to pace yourself and engage in a very slow dance towards intimacy,” she warns. Patton also thinks you should keep details of your sex life to yourself. “Who you have sex with is your private business, so keep it private,” she says. “Talking about your hookups (or complaining about them) reflects badly on your judgment and your character.”
8
You over-rely on NYC conveniences
Yes, you’re stressed out and tired and you can get virtually anything delivered to you in this great city. But Seamless, FreshDirect and Netflix are making you lazy and, if Chinese is your takeout of choice, fat. “Everybody works hard, and at the end of a long day it’s great to order in tapas and binge on a ‘House of Cards’ marathon,” says Patton. “But you won’t meet anybody new in your studio walk-up.” So, slip off the Slanket and get out into the world. As a dog lover, Patton (who owns a dachshund named Lucille) firmly believes in the power of the canine-concocted romance. “Grab a leash, your lipstick and go for a walk in the park — if you’ve trained your dog well, they can act as your wingman.”
LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE..WE ARE JUST A KISS AWAY
Dear Soulmate,
We were just a kiss away from fallen in love, as your sweet, soft lips touch my forehead. We were just a kiss away from sharing our dreams, as my world turns into a fantasy every time you're near. We were just a kiss away from making sweet love, as I find your soft body lying next to mine. We were just a kiss away from looking into each others eyes, as I am stuck on your words that make my heart beat. We were just a kiss away from holding each other?s hand, as butterflies gently float in my stomach. We were just a kiss away from saying 'I love you,' as I swallow my words that badly want to come out. When your eyes look into my eyes and my eyes look into your soul We both see something that together we can hold. We have a spirtual connection that no one can break.The love we have is real, it will never be fake The way our spirits incline and the way our minds combine.We make a beautiful couple and our light will always shine.I never knew that love could be this way.I never saw something so beautiful until I saw your face.I will always and forever keep you in my arms.You will always be my lucky charm when God put us together I knew it was fate. Now I know you and I will always be soulmates.You are my love, my moonlit sky, the reason for my happiness, and the reason I cry. You are all the things I want and desire, you've turned my heart from ice to fire. A fire that burns brighter than the brightest star, so bright I can see it no matter where you are.A star that turns the night to day,and leaves me speechless with nothing to say.A feeling of pure love, peace, and tranquility,erasing all thoughts of hate and hostility.These are the things you give to me,your love has set my spirit free,Just knowing our love was meant to be.
We were just a kiss away from fallen in love, as your sweet, soft lips touch my forehead. We were just a kiss away from sharing our dreams, as my world turns into a fantasy every time you're near. We were just a kiss away from making sweet love, as I find your soft body lying next to mine. We were just a kiss away from looking into each others eyes, as I am stuck on your words that make my heart beat. We were just a kiss away from holding each other?s hand, as butterflies gently float in my stomach. We were just a kiss away from saying 'I love you,' as I swallow my words that badly want to come out. When your eyes look into my eyes and my eyes look into your soul We both see something that together we can hold. We have a spirtual connection that no one can break.The love we have is real, it will never be fake The way our spirits incline and the way our minds combine.We make a beautiful couple and our light will always shine.I never knew that love could be this way.I never saw something so beautiful until I saw your face.I will always and forever keep you in my arms.You will always be my lucky charm when God put us together I knew it was fate. Now I know you and I will always be soulmates.You are my love, my moonlit sky, the reason for my happiness, and the reason I cry. You are all the things I want and desire, you've turned my heart from ice to fire. A fire that burns brighter than the brightest star, so bright I can see it no matter where you are.A star that turns the night to day,and leaves me speechless with nothing to say.A feeling of pure love, peace, and tranquility,erasing all thoughts of hate and hostility.These are the things you give to me,your love has set my spirit free,Just knowing our love was meant to be.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE
Dear Soulmate
It started out as simple thoughts of you,after the first time I set eyes on you. Now see where it has led to?Perpetual thoughts of you, whether you are near or far. And warm feelings all round me when I think of how dear you are.You've walked your way into my heart with your love and your warm smile.And my heart gladly accepted.For you are what it had been longing for after a long while.For in us I see yesterday, today and tomorrow. Wherein, we shall share no sorrow. When I looked into your eyes, I felt the depth of the infinite.When sailing in you, I felt the profound vertigo of my feelings.When trusting you, I felt the ecstasy of the searched-for happiness. For that reason, a long time ago my sailing ship tossed its anchors and today I can look at a flock of seagulls accompanied by the tranquility of your look, my lover!
I have always had a fantasy,
it involves a waterfall
as far as the eye can see.
And a woman,
a beautiful woman,
who loves me with her lips,
and makes love with her hips.
The love we could make,
would be filled with passion and mist,
I am not like any other,
for she will remember she was kissed.
As the water would shoot down from the top,
the dream would never end,
the dream would never stop.
I'd touch every inch of her body
with all of the love that I held,
as I'd love her even harder,
she'd say, "I love you," as she yelled.
As she'd say, "I love you",
with water dripping down like rain,
I realize we would be, in essence,
in the same dimension,
and our love would never change.
It started out as simple thoughts of you,after the first time I set eyes on you. Now see where it has led to?Perpetual thoughts of you, whether you are near or far. And warm feelings all round me when I think of how dear you are.You've walked your way into my heart with your love and your warm smile.And my heart gladly accepted.For you are what it had been longing for after a long while.For in us I see yesterday, today and tomorrow. Wherein, we shall share no sorrow. When I looked into your eyes, I felt the depth of the infinite.When sailing in you, I felt the profound vertigo of my feelings.When trusting you, I felt the ecstasy of the searched-for happiness. For that reason, a long time ago my sailing ship tossed its anchors and today I can look at a flock of seagulls accompanied by the tranquility of your look, my lover!
I have always had a fantasy,
it involves a waterfall
as far as the eye can see.
And a woman,
a beautiful woman,
who loves me with her lips,
and makes love with her hips.
The love we could make,
would be filled with passion and mist,
I am not like any other,
for she will remember she was kissed.
As the water would shoot down from the top,
the dream would never end,
the dream would never stop.
I'd touch every inch of her body
with all of the love that I held,
as I'd love her even harder,
she'd say, "I love you," as she yelled.
As she'd say, "I love you",
with water dripping down like rain,
I realize we would be, in essence,
in the same dimension,
and our love would never change.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
DEAR SOULMATE
Dear Soulmate,
Once in a lifetime, you meet a person who takes your breath away; not because you want them to, but because they're meant to.Once in a lifetime, right in the middle of an ordinary life, we get a chance at a fairytale. Let your guard down; take a fall you'll never know if you're loved unless you give it your all.Just once I want my heart to lead me somewhere where there's a chance of a happy ending. Every man needs a woman when his life is a mess because the queen protects the king, just like in a game of chess.If your love does not work with that person, it just means that someone else loves you more.
When you wake up tomorrow, know i am thinking about you at the very moment. For you are always on my mind and in my heart. When you wake up tomorrow,Know that someone longs for your sweet and tender touch. When you wake up tomorrow.Feel rejoice and energy just to know. That someone cares as much for you as I do.
Let me show you what love is. Or I could just tell you now. It's this feeling deep inside you that you can't stop because you don't know how. See there's a little thing called love, between you and me. Something that can make you very very happy. Or love can also make you want to cry. Something that's always there and you don't know why. It's just a little thing called love. Maybe it comes from above. No one knows. But when you find that special someone you will feel the feeling of love.
Bare your heart and once be true.If you love me then say... you do.Do you hear the gentle wind ever so softly whisper my name? In those times of a lonesome you do you ever whisper the same? Do you place me in your heart, nearer to every breath you take, and as you close your eyes... do you..see a glimmer of me in you? Does the shadow of my being tenderely embrace you in your dream? Tell me if you love me so...the way I do... I need to know
In loving you...I have experienced the happiness, the hurt,The feeling of forever, the need to be with you and to love you.It's all inside of me; it's you I always think about,It's you I always miss, and it will always be you, Because you're the one I love.To me, love means forever...No one will ever take your place or know me as you do.You will always know what I am thinking about and what I'm feeling deep down. I'll never love anyone the way I love you! You know who you are!
One heart connects with another. That is communication. One soul speaks to another. That is communication. There is no better listener than I. There is no one more willing than I. But I am not like your audience in a front row listening to your speech. I will listen carefully, but I am the One bent closely to your ear. I am the One listening fully to your heart independent of your words. I am the One Who looks deeply into your eyes and sees beyond what you see. And then We see together, for We reach a meeting place where Our eyes match, and We share the same vision. You see My gaze quivering your heart, and now you gaze upon the assembly of hearts in the universe, and you soothe their trembling.
Communication is not a meeting of minds. It is an exposure of hearts.So bare your heart to Me. Bare your heart to yourself. Once you bare your heart to yourself, you have burst the steel bands that held you prisoner.
Could you bare your heart to me and trust that I would not betray you or discard you? Could we be that transparent with each other?
Once in a lifetime, you meet a person who takes your breath away; not because you want them to, but because they're meant to.Once in a lifetime, right in the middle of an ordinary life, we get a chance at a fairytale. Let your guard down; take a fall you'll never know if you're loved unless you give it your all.Just once I want my heart to lead me somewhere where there's a chance of a happy ending. Every man needs a woman when his life is a mess because the queen protects the king, just like in a game of chess.If your love does not work with that person, it just means that someone else loves you more.
When you wake up tomorrow, know i am thinking about you at the very moment. For you are always on my mind and in my heart. When you wake up tomorrow,Know that someone longs for your sweet and tender touch. When you wake up tomorrow.Feel rejoice and energy just to know. That someone cares as much for you as I do.
Let me show you what love is. Or I could just tell you now. It's this feeling deep inside you that you can't stop because you don't know how. See there's a little thing called love, between you and me. Something that can make you very very happy. Or love can also make you want to cry. Something that's always there and you don't know why. It's just a little thing called love. Maybe it comes from above. No one knows. But when you find that special someone you will feel the feeling of love.
Bare your heart and once be true.If you love me then say... you do.Do you hear the gentle wind ever so softly whisper my name? In those times of a lonesome you do you ever whisper the same? Do you place me in your heart, nearer to every breath you take, and as you close your eyes... do you..see a glimmer of me in you? Does the shadow of my being tenderely embrace you in your dream? Tell me if you love me so...the way I do... I need to know
In loving you...I have experienced the happiness, the hurt,The feeling of forever, the need to be with you and to love you.It's all inside of me; it's you I always think about,It's you I always miss, and it will always be you, Because you're the one I love.To me, love means forever...No one will ever take your place or know me as you do.You will always know what I am thinking about and what I'm feeling deep down. I'll never love anyone the way I love you! You know who you are!
One heart connects with another. That is communication. One soul speaks to another. That is communication. There is no better listener than I. There is no one more willing than I. But I am not like your audience in a front row listening to your speech. I will listen carefully, but I am the One bent closely to your ear. I am the One listening fully to your heart independent of your words. I am the One Who looks deeply into your eyes and sees beyond what you see. And then We see together, for We reach a meeting place where Our eyes match, and We share the same vision. You see My gaze quivering your heart, and now you gaze upon the assembly of hearts in the universe, and you soothe their trembling.
Communication is not a meeting of minds. It is an exposure of hearts.So bare your heart to Me. Bare your heart to yourself. Once you bare your heart to yourself, you have burst the steel bands that held you prisoner.
Could you bare your heart to me and trust that I would not betray you or discard you? Could we be that transparent with each other?
PERSONAL: MAYBE ONE DAY I WILL MEET YOU
Maybe One Day I Will Meet You
And maybe one day I’ll be reading a book at the Laundromat. Some movement will catch my eye and then I’ll see you taking your clothes out of the dryer. That minutes and trials all lead up to us together, somewhere. I’ll get nervous when I see you, wondering if I should say anything. But you’ll notice me. You said once, you’ll always notice me. I didn’t really know what you meant by it and never asked you to clarify. Some things are better left to wonder.
You’d come up to me asking if I thought socks were worth folding. We’d smile and it would take everything in me to not make a scene in front of the dryers. We would talk about the books we’ve read, the movies we saw. How we both wrote a handful of stories involving timing and chance to the point we didn’t believe it in anymore. Stories of strings with knots always getting caught on doorknobs. How we both have trouble completely forgetting. People lay idle in the dust of our minds, dormant in our toes until we come crashing into corners.
I don’t know if these chance meetings really exist. If your fingers are already tied to someone, somewhere, a joining imminent in the future. I’m not one for butterflies. A person I knew once said how terrifying they were. Their paths were so sporadic, completely unpredictable. A pretty poison when predators bit down. You’re butterfly lays sleepy somewhere. Resting for when it’s ready to be released. When faith in more, in trial and error, in guess and check works out to something beautiful. When our knots untie and the string to our hearts is merely inches apart.
Maybe, the last maybe, we weren’t meant for anything else. Someone else will replace my thoughts before I close my eyes. Your name will be only a smile, a happy “she did it” when I see it all over the place.
I needed to make you see me once. You had to know that I was alive.Why do I, and everyone I love, pick people who treat us like we're nothing? We accept the love we think we deserve.
I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness and to have the patience that love demands, to speak when words are needed and to share the silence when they are not and to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home. I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love.
And maybe one day I’ll be reading a book at the Laundromat. Some movement will catch my eye and then I’ll see you taking your clothes out of the dryer. That minutes and trials all lead up to us together, somewhere. I’ll get nervous when I see you, wondering if I should say anything. But you’ll notice me. You said once, you’ll always notice me. I didn’t really know what you meant by it and never asked you to clarify. Some things are better left to wonder.
You’d come up to me asking if I thought socks were worth folding. We’d smile and it would take everything in me to not make a scene in front of the dryers. We would talk about the books we’ve read, the movies we saw. How we both wrote a handful of stories involving timing and chance to the point we didn’t believe it in anymore. Stories of strings with knots always getting caught on doorknobs. How we both have trouble completely forgetting. People lay idle in the dust of our minds, dormant in our toes until we come crashing into corners.
I don’t know if these chance meetings really exist. If your fingers are already tied to someone, somewhere, a joining imminent in the future. I’m not one for butterflies. A person I knew once said how terrifying they were. Their paths were so sporadic, completely unpredictable. A pretty poison when predators bit down. You’re butterfly lays sleepy somewhere. Resting for when it’s ready to be released. When faith in more, in trial and error, in guess and check works out to something beautiful. When our knots untie and the string to our hearts is merely inches apart.
Maybe, the last maybe, we weren’t meant for anything else. Someone else will replace my thoughts before I close my eyes. Your name will be only a smile, a happy “she did it” when I see it all over the place.
I needed to make you see me once. You had to know that I was alive.Why do I, and everyone I love, pick people who treat us like we're nothing? We accept the love we think we deserve.
I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness and to have the patience that love demands, to speak when words are needed and to share the silence when they are not and to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home. I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love.
DEAR SOULMATE
Dear Soulmate
Before I met you, I never knew how much pleasure could be derived from the simple things in life. You have restored in me strength, joyfullness, and a love for all. I realize that we both will be forced to sacrifice for each other as well as the other vital parts of our lives.But for you my darling, I am willing to make that sacrifice and if someday we must part, I will not grieve.For I will know that we shared something precious, that should be cherished and treasured for the happiness it provided and not the sorrow it left behind... My love for you ...this undying passion spawned without my knowledge. This enduring feeling is addicted. This enveloping emotion covered me so gently. This living compassion developed from your love of me. What others can't see in you...what's not seen to the naked eye. I can see, the heart of your heart and for that I love you
What you do and others don't understand
What is wrong to everyone
But is right to you and me
For that I love you
What we've been through
What other loves could not conquer
We've overcome it
And for that I love you
Whatever reasons you have for loving me
Though sometimes I myself cannot comprehend
But it still keeps you here
For that I love you
For a love that will stand the test of time
Forever isn't long enough
To contain the love we feel
And for all of this...
I LOVE YOU!
Before I met you, I never knew how much pleasure could be derived from the simple things in life. You have restored in me strength, joyfullness, and a love for all. I realize that we both will be forced to sacrifice for each other as well as the other vital parts of our lives.But for you my darling, I am willing to make that sacrifice and if someday we must part, I will not grieve.For I will know that we shared something precious, that should be cherished and treasured for the happiness it provided and not the sorrow it left behind... My love for you ...this undying passion spawned without my knowledge. This enduring feeling is addicted. This enveloping emotion covered me so gently. This living compassion developed from your love of me. What others can't see in you...what's not seen to the naked eye. I can see, the heart of your heart and for that I love you
What you do and others don't understand
What is wrong to everyone
But is right to you and me
For that I love you
What we've been through
What other loves could not conquer
We've overcome it
And for that I love you
Whatever reasons you have for loving me
Though sometimes I myself cannot comprehend
But it still keeps you here
For that I love you
For a love that will stand the test of time
Forever isn't long enough
To contain the love we feel
And for all of this...
I LOVE YOU!
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