One or Two, You Must Choose

You imagine the sparks from his soft lips on yours. The slow building passion, the pleasure from “just kissing”, but the aching for more. The flutter in your heart as he tightened his grip lowering his hands to the small of your back and pulling you in closer. How in that very moment, the world seized to exists and you suddenly understood standing there in the sand, what everyone always meant when they said “the best things in life are free.”

But it will never work with this guy. For reasons even you don’t completely understand. And so you’re faced with a choice. Do you continue with guy number two? The perfect one with whom you’re so comfortable with, the one who will be up for any adventure, whose kindness is endearing. Do you go on pretending that comfort will make up for the lack of passion…Or do you wait? Do you wait alone knowing that passion is out there. Because you’ve learned that it’s possible to forget to breathe when someone walks into the room, that you once has someone who called you out on your mistakes, and challenged you, and made you want to be a better person. It sounds easier to just wait, doesn’t it? But truth is in those solo moments it almost becomes unbearable...Will it come, was it just a onetime thing? In stubbornly waiting will you have miss out on a chance to own prime suburban real estate?

It all comes down to comfort or passion? Is it possible to have both? And if it isn’t which and how do you choose?

The Rules of the Game

As a woman there a certain silent rules that were set long before our time, rules that we grew up following, believing in them because we had learned them from our mentors. Such as if you wear eyeliner on the bottom lid, you must therefore wear it on the top, but not necessarily visa-versa. White pants after labor day is a fashion don't (unless you on vacation in tropical climate), and a personal favorite (as well as one I've broken many times) don't confess your feelings to the your best friend whom you have secret (not so secret) feelings for.
Whether it was a friend or not there has been someone we were hopeless for, am I right? And in this confusing almost torturous process of analyzing every word said and movement made, we decide we will take manners into our own hands. We think of witty, coy, sexy things to say beforehand, we plan outfits, hair styles, the perfect locations to hang out. We think of what we could do or say to make them fall hopelessly for us. Because what man wouldn't want a fun-loving, woman a fresh blowout after a deep conditioning treatment, rocking a new pair of dark denim skinny jeans? Let me answer this question for you...MANY!
I am guilty of this. I am guilty of saying the things you shouldn't say, doing the things you shouldn't do, breaking all these rules. Thinking all along that if I had taken this huge risk, I would be the lucky winner at the end. Well tadaaaa, someone made up these rules because they tried them, they didn't work, their heart was broken and they wanted to spare anyone they could from this kind of pain. The ironic part of my version is that I actually paid for it. Yes, I literally paid to have my heart broken. I flew up to visit my friend "Edward" (well call him that for fun), who was going to school up north. I prepared for this weekend like you wouldn't believe. There was also a special formal event, and I was beyond prepared for that as well, convinced it would be the weekend everything would change. I was wrong, I had my heart crushed around 3 am the last night I was there in the study room of the guys dorm. I didn't even get to say a fraction of what I wanted, but I knew it didn't matter at the time, although I still wonder once in a while the dreaded "What if?" Because if you come down with a case of the "What ifs?" they can intoxicate you can cause you to do damage. Hence my trip up north, hundreds of dollars spent, once broken heart, a canceled flight because of snow storm, an extra mortifying night stuck there, and a week worth of nausea because of my stupidity...I did loose three pounds from not eating though, but gained back four when I got over myself.
It's just like that black and pink book that we've secretly peeked through at the bookstore, the movie we've seen with Justin Long (yum, idky he's not my type but I love him), hoping we were the exception to the rule...But life isn't a movie, and it isn't a novel, and it won't always turn out the way we imagine as we rest our heads to sleep at night. He's Just Not That Into Us. I don't know why but it happens. I mean think about it. Haven't you had someone interested in you with whom you just didn't see that way? Well unfortunately we are sometimes that person to someone else. The sooner we can realize it, the better. We read all these articles in Cosmo, and Glamour, telling us we are our own woman, we should be bold and make the first move. The truth is the man is used to making this move, it's in their instincts, and if a guy doesn't make the move, doesn't ask for our number this is positive. It's a silent way of saying he's not interested or hes unsure. In this way we are silently protected. We don't have to doubt ourselves and sometimes it's really as simple as he's just not that into you. And that could be a good thing...Cause truth is, if he's not that into you, what's so great about him?

The Four Letter Word

Love. A simple four letter word I'm sometimes ashamed to admitt keeps me up tossing and turning at night. I'm sure it's a safe bet that there are some out there that would slowly nod their heads in agreement upon hearing this. It's usually either because we've had it, we've lost it, or worst of all we're still searching still longing. Even when we claim that we aren't looking for anything "special", we can safely admitt to ourselves that we do hope. Some say the right person, and the right situation finds us when we lease expect it. Is this true? Are we supposed to fix our hair and wear a cute outfit in high hopes that the person in front of us buying a caramel macchiato could be what we've been searching for all along? Love. A simple four letter word, yet think of the complexity of it. Think of how it's shaped our lives and the world we live in. Think of all the novels, all the songs, and even that one special day dedicated to it in February.
There are different types of love of course. Sometimes we fail to realize this when we're without the one that flashes around us almost mockingly so. Sometimes I am guilty of assuming my life is loveless because I'm without the one type that leaves my head spinning and my heart swelling. It would be a lie. I take a deep breath look around and realize that I'm one of those fourtunate few who can say my life is filled with it. I've got that wonderful group of friends whom I love and trust. How rare is it that you find people who can see you at your best, your worst, know all your flaws and still value your friendship...My family life is healthy for the most part, and I've learned there will always be someone out there who struggles less, and someone else who struggles more. And in the end I suppose I'm thankful for the greatest thing of all, learning that I pocess the ability to love...
We grew up hearing “It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” We heard this line movies, listened to older supposedly ‘wiser people’ say it, and even read about it in books. But does this make it true? Do we just decide to believe this or do we wait for that moment where we have lost the one we love and then make up our minds… I am guilty of loving someone with all of my heart and then proceeding to have it fall into pieces. Ironically enough there is beauty in breaking your own heart, it isn’t simply the fact that you get to put the pieces back together and make it even stronger than it was. The beauty is in realizing that you are capable of loving another human being, despite their faults, the way they mess with your head, and their inability or flat out refusal to tell you exactly how they feel. You love them. And for better or for worse you just want them to be happy, even if it isn’t with you, although you can’t help but hope. And maybe aside from hope you make a mixed tape, write a letter, and wear your hair down to help improve the odds. Some may say this is the greatest realization of all.
Once in a while when life becomes almost too unbearble, I find myself in my room with the swells of an old favorite. I'm sure to chose something no one listens to anymore. In those moments I sway to the to the classical peice or an oldie, Louie armstong's "la vien en rose" is a favorite. I close my eyes, stand on my tip-toes, put my hands up and dance. Pretend I'm in a diferent time, when choices weren't as difficult, were life was simpler, where someone would ask you to dance to a piece of music with no words, and you would hold each other as if nothing else mattered. I take a deep breath, and I realize im okay, I'm still here, and even though it sometimes hurts to be dancing alone, I'm grateful to hear the music.