Women & Dating: Love is Blind…

Dating, Love, Uncategorized, Woman, women

Someone once told me that I am a walking, breathing example of the phrase Love is blind.You have such amazing intuition, you give really good advice and you can read people better than anyone I know

What’s your point?” I asked. “Then why when you fall in love does all of this go to shit?!”

I gave that some thought and realised that he was 100% right. It’s not love that’s blind, it’s quite simply that love blinds me.

It makes me tolerable of things I would otherwise deem unacceptable. It makes me stay around for a lot longer than I normally would and it definitely makes me fight FOR things I would usually fight ABOUT.

So it’s not surprising that I found myself in this exact situation not too long ago, where I thought I might have fallen in love, the fact was I didn’t, but I could have.

I somehow always knew from the beginning that this was a circus and he was the ring leader;  waving around so many red flags I had to be blind NOT to see it.

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In hindsight, I’m glad I blocked myself off to those red flags because it allowed me to just go with the flow and experience it for what it was…a lesson…another blady lesson. And quite frankly, if this was indeed a circus, I was only here for the kissing booth anyway….

But wait, I digress…he allowed me to be vulnerable, even though I resisted. It was something I haven’t allowed myself to be in a very long time. I needed him, it, all of it, and I needed to be blind to see that.

So when it ended and I finally snapped out of the love spell I was under, I realised that he had a pattern and it will always be the same with him and whoever he chooses next and because of this; he will most likely never be happy, at least not in the way he expects to.

This made it a lot easier to stay away from him when things ended. It made it easier letting go of the illusion. I cried though, a little {okay that’s a lie, a lot} and I’d be lying if I said it was easy knowing he was with someone new {so soon after me}; speaking to her the way he spoke to me, looking at her the way he looked at me. But it helped and for almost 8 weeks I never saw him, spoke to him, texted him…until a few days ago.

My eyes really do enjoying looking at him. But this time I’m seeing everything. Like how he seems all over the place yet nowhere in particular. How he imagines situations that he believes will make him happy, when all along he was all he ever needed.

How he doesn’t see this is beyond me.  How he doesn’t realise how amazing he is…so amazing that he actually doesn’t need anyone’s validation.

He told his sister “She doesn’t even need me. I don’t feel that she needs me, I feel like I’m not good enough for her. She really doesn’t need anyone”.

If only he knew that everything he was was exactly what I needed. And how I would love to tell him every single thing he meant to me since the moment we met, how what I needed wasn’t what he was used to; girls needing things like parties, weekends away, lifts, gifts.

If I was the epitome of “love is blind” then he was the epitome of  “when you’re hurting, you should be healing not dating” and a host of other clichès as well.  But he’s never healed, and so he’s never learnt.

I love knowing that he was all I needed, not his things, not what he had…just him. In my blindness I was fine with being “just another one” to him, because in this story he wasn’t “just another one” to me…I needed him, and he’ll never know it, because I will never tell him.

He’s changed me. In fact he said this “look at what I did to you…” to which I replied “what? made me soft?” …he smiled and gave me that look that would usually result in our clothes being ripped off. But alas. {we’re friends now, and friends don’t do that…apparently}

But he has, he’s made it okay for me to be softer, kinder and more affectionate. I’m still the alpha though, let’s not get that twisted. But I am more open about my feelings, wants and my needs. His touch made me want to be touched. And the way he spoke to me; he’s made me realize that if no one ever speaks to me that way again I will miss it, because I loved it. But mostly I love how he’s changed the way I think about men and how I need to treat them too.

Honesty was always what we found most refreshing about the other, so when that honesty was used to end things, it made it okay…besides, I could never be angry with this man, never.

So I would love nothing more than to tell him these things you know, and I will. But the words never seem to make their way out my mouth. And even though I never say it, I know he sees it on my face. He says “your emotions sit right there you know, I can see it” and even when I lie and try to dismiss things and emotions he says “You are such a bad liar!”

***I couldn’t hide it even if I tried ***

My blinkers might be off, but knowing that I love him without being in love with him {this is still debatable though} shifts me into a whole new place in his life and him in mine. A place we both seem to enjoy. A place where I really hope we can stay.

We will never be together romantically again, I have no intention of going blind again, and being in his life as his friend seems to be the reason we found each other. Because I think he might also be blind…and perhaps my role is remove his blinkers so that he can see how amazing he is and that if he just stops chasing the idea of love, it will eventually make its way to him…the way I did.

 

 

 

 

 

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Love & Relationships: You’ll be amazed what you find when you’re not looking ♥

Dating, Love, Relationships, Uncategorized, Woman, women

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He found me, after our world’s have lived in parallel for what seems like forever. The universe finally thought it was the right time.

Now he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. He does this all the time. He’s done this since the first day we saw each other. I find myself doing the same.

He speaks to me as though he’s been waiting his entire life to tell me his stories. He’s done this since the first moment he introduced himself to me. I find myself doing the same.

He holds my hand in a way that feels like should he ever let go I would fall, and should i ever let go so would he.

He kisses me as if it’s my air that fuels his lungs, in a way that should my lips never meet his again he’d suffocate and die.

He listens to me so attentively it’s as though his favourite song rolls right off  my tongue. Memorizing every word.

And his voice; I would do anything to hear it, every single day.

I must have done something right in my life to be given everything I have ever asked for; wrapped up in one beautiful human being who wants nothing more from me but to love him.

So if I ever thought I was in love before {and boy did I ever think that} I couldn’t have been more was wrong, because nothing, in my entire life, ever felt like this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love & Relationships; Space & Time

Dating, Love, Relationships, sex, Uncategorized, Woman, women

wordpress_space-and-time

Sometimes I have to re read my words, the words that my heart spoke during a very difficult time in my life. I re read them to remember how far I have come and to remind myself to never ever go back there.

I remember so much sadness. I wish I could forget that feeling. The emptiness, the despair.

I remember how lost I was and I remember the things I did to try and find my way back to myself again. It seemed in vain. But I tried.

The things I did to make myself “feel” better when in actual fact I couldn’t feel anything at all. But I tried.

I remember hoping & praying that one day I would be able to be okay again, myself again. I remember hoping & praying to heal, so that one day when he comes along I can be whole and happy and not allow my past to hurt my present. My gift, the gift i hoped for. A feeling out of the brokenness.

Sometimes I forget to remember, those are the days I smile. Laugh. The days I forget to remember, those are the best ones.

I never used to laugh much, but I remember being happy; but I also never used to cry as much as I did. I remember each tear, like a lover lost; fading the further it went.

I liked laughing. It was better that crying. I found my laughter again, and it’s been a while since I cried, until a few nights ago, until he made me cry again. The one that gave me that feeling. The one I hoped for. He made me cry.

Crying because I couldn’t understand how you could say to someone “I think we need space” when space is all we ever had? So callously. So carefree. So inconsiderate.

And no matter how many times I tried to close that space, he found equal and more powerful ways of reinstating it. Again, I tried.

How do you tell someone “I think we need space” when that is all you have ever given them, because you knew they needed it, and they needed time; time to understand that not all women are the same, time to understand that maybe I won’t do what she did, time to understand that it could be different. Time to heal the same hurts I have. I tried. He never did. And seemingly never will.

He doesn’t get to say that. Space and time was all I ever gave him because I thought that’s what he needed.

Until it became clear that that was what he wanted.

 

 

 

Single & Frustrated: Qualifying criteria to be the last one standing…

Dating, Relationships, sex, Uncategorized, Woman, women

It’s actually not that difficult, I just make it that way. I mean fuck, if that fuck nut of an ex who still causes me so much turmoil can find someone to put up with his lying, drug addicted, violent, cheating, manipulative, psychopathic ass…then surely I can too.

I just really need someone who will happily pour me wine and watch series with me…and then maybe get something to eat and have sex…the food is optional.

Oh, and you can’t watch series with other girls if you’re watching series with me *and by watch series I mean have sex* …so don’t even try to fuck boy your way into a bread buttering competition…because you can only have it on one side, and that one side is my buns, not her korsie and if you try it any other way you will lose.

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I’m not fussy but just so we have clarity, let’s get started:

  1. You must be single, single single single and you need to be able to tell me you why you are single. Having your heart broken once is a valid reason and I understand, but don’t hou duk with that excuse because even I know a broken heart can heal…eventually.
  1. You need to have the capacity to grow a beard, you do not necessarily have to have one when we meet, but the potential for growth…as with many things in life…needs to be there.
  1. You cannot be thinner than me and I’m not thin…
  1. You cannot be shorter than me and I’m 1.7…
  1. Being big & tall is great, but everything needs to be in proportion…especially our friend down there.
  1. I have enough boobs for the both of us, you don’t need to have them too #moobsmustfall
  1. You need to be a man man. Not a boy. Not a pansy. Not a”I’m too good to change my own tyre, I’ll pay someone to do it” or “this shirt was  expensive we can’t jump in the pool right now”
    Men make fires, pay their own bills, respect their woman, loves their parents, races cars, owns power tools and can screw anything into any hole.
    Boys quit their jobs and dream of becoming hip hop artists, yes, I know the SABC now says 90% local music so your chances are a lot higher these days…great, for you.
  1. I love old people, but I generally prefer them within the range of either 10 years my senior or 1 year my junior…don’t even try, just don’t.
  1. You need to be aware of your health, I can’t have sex with you and all of the sudden you get a heart attack, dead is not cool. Being alive under a dead person, even less cool.
  1. You must have a hobby, if it’s a sport, great…Fantasy League football does NOT count…you just need to be passionate about something other than me J
  1. Please don’t make me go hiking. If I do, then you must know I really enjoy having sex with you to put up with that hiking up mountains bullshit.
  2. Being clever is cute and I like it…be qualified in something, have a degree, educate yourself.
  1. Please do not ever wear crocs FFS or sloffies that make your toes hang over…just no.
  1. Please be able to cook, or at least fry bacon and eggs…I can deal with bacon and eggs for the rest of my life, I REALLY CAN
  1. I drink a lot of wine, you need to deal and you need to be willing to come wine drinking with me *I drink , I don’t taste, so it’s never wine tasting, ever*
  1. I like going away to new places…I go away often so you need to be proactive and book shit and make plans. And if you don’t then all you ever need to say when I make plans is “yes baby, I’m in” even if it’s the kakkest idea you ever heard.
  1. 30 seconds, dominoes and poker is a must…we need to be able to keep ourselves entertained when we are not having sex.
  1. You must be a good kisser because you can’t walk around slapping your dick in my face all day
  1. You must have good sense of humour and you must be able to make me laugh…I laugh at anything really, I’m totally easy…to please….with jokes *whispering* “and a penis…”
  1. You must have a Facebook account. Like it or not we will be Facebook official…my friends have been waiting for my “one” longer than I have and this is non-negotiable…for their sake obviously, not mine, I don’t need the external validation from random strangers nor do i desire the gratification of everyone seeing how ridiculously happy i am and how ridiculously much sex I am having…you know.

Oh, and don’t do drugs and don’t be a violent psychotic hypocrite who likes to fuck around and tell lies.
Oh, and if you read this post and felt intimidated, cringed or thought “wow she’s so un-politically correct and rude”… you are not qualified and you need to fuck off.

Great, good luck.

May the odds be ever in your favour!

Sex & Relationships: The ultimate act of surrender S.01 The Finale

Relationships, sex, Uncategorized, Woman, women

Patience is a virtue. My body is aching. My memory is intact. I am happy.”

wordpress_thearchitectI was happy at the idea of a next one, of a new relationship at some point, I was happy and very okay with moving on. The Architect had been popping up in a number of my blogs and truth be told, this will most likely be the last.

After taking us a year to gather up the courage, albeit Dutch courage, to kiss each other…it would appear whatever was happening between the two of us has finally ended. But when I see him, when we’re at a place together, it’s like we can’t keep our eyes off each other. I catch him staring at me; and the only reason I see it is because I’m staring at him too…from across the bar, the dance floor, the room, wherever he is…that’s where my eyes are. I manage to crack a smile and then I don’t know what to do, so I look away, I turn away and I walk away. As I walk away I look into the face of his ex-girlfriend who always seems to find her fucking way to events he will be at and I can’t help but think that she is it. She is the reason. The reason I will never be given, the reason for his elusiveness and lack of comprehension.

I’m just too old to be playing these games man, I’ve told him before “I like you, and I know you like me…and I think we like each other enough to give this one more try”…my honesty seemed in vain, and it’s not something I do often…be honest about my feelings. But with him I was. But with him it never worked. And so this time with him the surrender is going to be somewhat different, it is not giving in to a desire, but giving up on one. Him. I’m giving up on him. I’ve decided this many times before though yet each time something makes me change my time…like the way he calls me “woman!” gets me every time.  But it eventually all comes back to this, an inevitable ending, an inevitable ending without a reason.

It’s ironic though, him being an Architect. In a sense I needed someone to re-design me and build me up from the nothing that was left behind…he doesn’t even know that he’s done this, I wasn’t even aware that he was doing this. When I surrendered to him, that first time, he made me not want it from anyone else because he made me remember what it’s supposed to feel like. How I felt with him. How he behaved when he was with me. And nothing’s been the same since, nothing else has come close. No one else.

He will never know any of this, he will never know the impact he has made on my life. I will never tell him. Honesty doesn’t seem to work with him…and honestly, I don’t think he deserves to know. He doesn’t deserve a lot of my feelings. In hindsight. He never did. As I write this I feel bursts of anger at his cavalier attitude toward me, our situation, has he not being paying attention? Surely he cannot be that clueless? Perhaps he likes the vagueness of wonder & confusion. Perhaps LEAVING things open makes him more open to the idea of LEAVING. Clearly.

I will continue to stare at him though. My heart will continue to skip a few beats, smiling at the memory of what was, of what could have been.

*But I have no more memories wrapped up in him waiting to be unwrapped, our time has come and gone…twice. And there will be no third time’s a charm. There will be simply, nothing.

 

 

 

Single & Dating: The Tinder Diaries P01…Same ol’ G

Dating, Relationships, sex, Uncategorized, Woman, women

There’s a world of online dating where people go to “connect”. But how exactly does one “connect” online? I personally had hermitised myself because of my recent heartbreak, so I definitely wasn’t connecting with anyone, anywhere…let alone on line. So the impersonal nature that online dating has and the idea of getting out there without technically getting out at all suited me perfectly.

So welcome my newest app download, Tinder, overwhelmed does not even begin to describe it!

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The first guy I met was a beautiful, green eyed man with slivers of grey hair scattered around his head and beard. He was kind, respectful; the kind of man I thought had all but disappeared. He lived close to me too {thanks to Tinder’s location settings} We had so much in common, our industries, kids, relationship history. It was so easy to talk to him, at this stage I would have spoken to anyone; after being alone so long you crave the conversation more than anything else.

I had a work trip toward the end of 2014, and so did he. We were chatting one afternoon and realized that we both happened to be in the same area, 2500km’s away from our hometown. We decided we had to meet, at the hotel I was staying at, after my event.

It was just before 2am when he arrived, I had a few drinks too many and stood there in my black dress. He was excited, in a good mood, he laughed, and smiled…he was such a gentlemen. We spoke all night, him on the couch, me on the bed…he left about 2 hours later, I fell asleep.

I remember asking him why he never tried anything, not even a kiss…he simply replied “What kind of man would you think I was if I did that?”. That was the start of a six month love affair. A love affair that saw us giving and receiving many orgasms. No inhibitions. No need to impress the other. Just two people, who’ve been alone so long and were simply happy to not be alone anymore. He loved my body; a body that I was made to feel so self conscious about, a body that was hurt, bruised and tossed aside, and yet he loved it, like it was the first time he touched it, every time. Like he was just so glad he was being given the opportunity to enjoy it. I remember what that felt like. I never felt that before.

As I write, I remember. His lips were soft, yet strong. He’s grip, firm yet gentle. His voice was deep, but caring. Never spoke a harsh word and never raised his voice. Fear was never something I felt around him. I enjoyed him, I loved our time together. But then just like that, he was gone. Tinder does that you know, as quickly as you can come into someone’s life, that’s how quickly you can leave.

Oddly enough, the day I wrote this was his birthday. I was reminded of how thankful I was to have met him. He restored my faith in a man who can make a woman feel as amazing as I did when I was with him.

He was the first man I was with after my break up, he was worth the wait. He awoke parts of me I thought had died. Made me want to be alive again. He will never know any of this, but he was the start of my journey back to the one person I forget mattered the most, me.

We’ll call him G, and he was amazing.

Women & Relationships: When you’re living dead

Abuse, Break Ups, Cheating, Death, Love, Relationships, Sister, Uncategorized, Woman, women

After the break up two years ago I found myself doing something I’d never thought I’d do again so soon. Grieving.  The death of my relationship, but most importantly the death of me, the person I was before him.

You see, an abusive relationship kills you, figuratively and more often in some cases, literally. In my case it was the latter; my eyes were open, there was air moving in and out of my lungs, but there was no life inside of me. Inside, I was as good as dead.

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In the notebooks I found recently I can trace back the first violent incident to August 2011. He threw a plate at me for going out with colleagues after a work function. I can trace back the first lie to the very day we met again in April 2009 when I asked him “who’s car is this” because I knew what car he drove, and the one I saw that night was not it. “It’s my mechanic’s” he replied.  It wasn’t and I later found out that it was the woman he was living with, the women who called him her boyfriend…his girlfriend! It was her car! And I was in it. {Funnily enough, the mother of his child told me many times how he would come pick her up in my car and go out on dates, I never believed her because he always said she was lying…that’s karma for you}

Fast forward to May 2014…the day I told him to please leave, once and for all, and for the last time.  And so it started, as though what had been going on for the past few years wasn’t enough.

I spent each day after that last day in denial {yes, I hoped he would come back, and say he’s sorry…again} the pain, anguish. The anger and sadness overwhelmed me. I spent most mornings driving to work in tears and most night’s awake suffering from insomnia. Even when I could manage a few hours of sleep they too were tainted with nightmares, night sweats, heart palpitations & restlessness. My breakdowns were so severe, I couldn’t move, talk, and think…I was numb.

I never recognized this person, when I looked in the mirror or caught a reflection of what I had become. 2014 was a horrible year. I couldn’t let anyone see me like this, so I stayed away from everyone. The lies I told, oh my word the lies. All the “I’m fine’s” and the “It’s okay’s” and the “I’m busy I can’t make it’s”.  I was so good at it. Or so I thought,

My daughter, she suffered while I suffered. I couldn’t help myself so she tried, but was only 7 years old, it was never her job. I hope she knew it was never her, I tell her that now. She believes me. She says she’s happy to have her mommy back. I wish I could say the same because the person that came back is not who I was, I am not sure who she is quite yet…but I do believe she is getting better. My daughter say I smile a lot more, I laugh a lot more too.

But there is still so much anger inside of me. I feel it when comments are made that brings back a memory or two. In fact, just yesterday I got told in the most condescending tone of voice I have ever heard directed at me…“Look here, I know YOU  went through a bad time in YOUR relationship, but I …I actually give a damn about mine” And this was my sister. Hearing those words hurt me, it was unexpected and caught me completely off guard. All I asked was if she wanted to come with me to the food market on Sunday, but her finace is going to rehab because he is apparently a drug addict, yet she chooses to shout at me instead of leaving him… and I lost my shit and told her as such.

No one has the right to assume what it was I went through, what that “bad time” was like. No one has the right to talk about it in my absence or reference it in my presence unless I brought it up. This never happens, because I can’t ever bring myself to start telling someone my story. I try, so I share pieces of it, bordering on headings and summaries…and I wish I could, I wish I could see someone’s face as they hear what I have to say. So I can see the horror in their eyes, because that is what it was, it was horrible. It was absolutely horrible.

I cried last night. I cry often these days, as it leads up to the anniversary of the death of me, us, and him…the tears serve as a reminder. I don’t like these memories anymore but I know they won’t go away until I make new ones, with someone who is not him. With someone who’s love won’t hurt me. With someone who I am not scared of. With someone. Else.

And right there is where I find myself, stuck, because it’s kind of hard to live let alone love, when you’re dead.