- Find a guy who makes me laugh.
- Find a guy who talks to me.
- Find a guy who listens.
- Find a guy who respects me.
- Find a guy who encourages me in my hobbies even when he does not understand them.
- Find a guy who encourages my passion(s).
- Find a guy who when I impose limits; accepts them without arguing.
- Find a guy who will hug me when I am sad.
- Find a guy who will celebrate my successes and failures. (Failures lead to future successes)
- Find a guy who will hold me while I ugly cry, barf into a bucket, or any other issue that makes me feel like shit.
These are my goals. Not for everyone I know. And really folks I used the term guy because I like men. These rules can apply every which way. (Except children and animals but that really should not need to be stated.)
This is a pretty steep set of goals a man must face if he wants to move beyond the friend zone with me. However I know what my worth is now. After years of setting my wants and needs to the side, I now realize where I stand.
And if my frog never arrives to be kissed, reverting to said Prince status, I will still live my life to the fullest, inspired and loved by those who do find their way into this story of mine.
When I start to feel that I have to apologize for who I am, I know that it is time to say goodbye.
‘I think that I am just about done with those two,’ Cupid blew the dark curls from her eyes. ‘I shot them centuries ago with the most powerful love potion ever created. They love one another deeply.’
‘Maybe the arrow was defective? Or the potion itself?’ I suggested, pouring her a cup of thick black coffee.
‘My arrows are never defective.’ she glared at the couple again. ‘They are just two of the most stubborn individuals on the face of this whole planet.’
‘How many more times before you accept defeat?’
‘Never. They are my parents, that is how I know they love each other deeply.’
I have a million memories
that I replay
each and every day
savoring the truth I hide from myself.
a person who is luxuriously self-indulgent.
How I felt waking this morning smack dab in the middle of my king size bed, surrounded by a mass of pillows and curled beneath my comforter.
Who says real people cannot be the Queen of their very own castle?
I am shedding. Very badly. Not sure why I am losing so much hair.
As I am staring at the pile of hair on the bed (really only a few strands) that voice that whispers these thoughts to me said:
Be thankful that it is your own hair. I was afraid I had left some behind as I stood over your sleeping body last night.
***Photo courtesy of Poets.Org***
I woke this morning not with alarms blaring but with a moan as I realized the time.
When I turned on my phone the first alert I received was it is National Poetry Day!
With coffee in hand I turn to peruse, my writings, past and present and those whose voices and works I have found on here.
Happy National Poetry Day Everyone!