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

Dating, Love, Relationships, Uncategorized, Woman, women


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


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.




Women & Love: Only when you know what love is not, will you find out what it really is



I don’t think I have ever truly been in love before, not the way it’s supposed to be at least. You know; the way poets describe it, the way authors write about it. Being in absolute love, not something I have ever had the privileged of being in.

Not until now that is. Well, a few months ago when I met him for the first time. I looked into his face one night {even murmured a few words} not even knowing his name but somehow everything changed. A part of me realized I found what I had been looking for. The other part of me. That thing that I was missing. He was right there.

I am different with him, in a good way. I speak differently, softer, more gentle. I behave differently, calmer. I feel differently, awake, in touch and aware. I could hold his hand and not be afraid. I can cry in front of him and be okay. I can tell him how I feel and the world wouldn’t come to an end. My heart has opened, it chose him and changed.

Missing him is not heart wrenchingly painful. There is no jealousy, no obsession, no possession. No nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach when I imagine the endless possibilities of what he is doing when i am not with him. I just feel content knowing that I breathe the same air he does. That the same sun touches both our skins in the day and the same moon lights up our sky at night. No matter where we are, I feel him as though he was next to me.

It was the oddest thing, when I realized I was in love. Weird, different. It’s so beautiful though that even though I don’t know if we will ever be together, wanting him to be happy is the only thing that matters to me. Whether it’s with me or not. *How mature is that!? We’ve had our moment and continue to have them when the world brings us together just often enough to remind us of the other. The other times however I do spend my time not waiting for him…he’s never asked me to, and I have never asked him too either…there is no expectation, there is no disappointment. I have others and I am sure he does too. Which is why I know this is real what I feel, knowing I love him, knowing I will be ready when our time comes.

Simply knowing he’s alive right now means more to me than anything and knowing that our time will come and when it comes I need to be ready to love him. I have been waiting since the start of forever for my forever and I knew my heart would find him eventually, and I knew when I did there would be no turning back. I fell in love with a man, and it was soft, and gentle; the way you fall when you fall asleep…not the way I used to do it, the way when you fall off a cliff and break all your bones and die.



Women & Heartache: My three year anni{misery}

Break Ups, Dating, Love, Relationships, Uncategorized

I knew that some day when I’d eventually meet someone new that he would know; not because he was told but because he’d be able to feel it; that he would be able to feel my love for him fading and eventually dying.

wall of love_wordpress

We always knew each other so well, he knew every smile, every eye roll, every “it’s fine” when it wasn’t because he made it that way. We’d start speaking at the same time {and it would always be about the same thing}. Our bodies mirrored each other the same way our minds did.

There was a time when we were perfect for each other, but that time was short lived.

It’s officially been three years and one day since the fateful end of our relationship. The timeline of our demise has become somewhat blurry but I believe we died the day he decided to give me my very first blue eye. Three years has since passed since I felt the sting of that man’s hand against my face. Three years since the day he put his hands around my neck and suffocated me. Three years since he literally wanted to kill me. Some would say it’s been long enough for me to be okay by now, for some to question why it still hurts this badly; those people clearly have never known heartache the way I have at the hand of someone they loved, I pray for their sakes they never do. There’s been many things since that “three years” but what it all comes down to is heart ache, heart break, heart wrenching & heart gutting anguish and turmoil and every other adjective to describe the falling & breaking of a woman…to a pit so deep that the light at the end of that tunnel is no where to be seen.

You see heartache is no joke, it is not something to be taken lightly, it is not something you simply “get over” or “move on” from. No…heartache is a disease that has no cure, something no doctor can medicate. There is no magic pill for this kind of shit, and so you deal with the shit in the best way you know how. I have, whether it has worked or not remains to be seen but what I can say is that the fear of having my heart ripped open again has been the sole reason for the erection of these walls {I just said erection, hahaha}; these walls that not only prevent anyone from coming close enough to hurt me, but seemingly also prevents anyone from coming close enough to make me happy. And happiness could be the very cure that I so desperately need.

A friend of his always said “the two of you have such a strong chemistry that it borders both passion and insanity”, he’d say “julle is so lief vir mekaar dat dit julle mal maak” {you guys love each other so much that it literally drives you crazy}.

I remember telling him after the break up that I wish to never speak of him again, to never have to say his name, to never have to hear it being spoken in my company…but in that same breath I also asked him “tell me how do I explain to someone what I am without doing that? How do I tell my story without sharing yours, and ours?”

The simple answer is I won’t ever have to because the right man won’t need me to explain. The pain and torment I experienced at his hand will eventually be erased by the gentleness of another’s. The words he uttered to me, will be erased by the kind words spoken off the lips of another. One day there will be another who will come to live in my heart when it’s ready to open it’s door.

So who is this “other” you may wonder; well this is what it’s been about of late; the battle of the two; the one who instantaneously broke down my walls from the day we met, the one who when I see him literally makes my heart skip a beat, taking my breath away, the one whom I just can’t seem to stay away from…yet I manage to do just that

*because then there’s The Architect, who just so happens to be someone worth writing about

**but that’s a story for another day

***happy anni{misery} & a day, to me



Love & Relationships: He was my one, WAS.


I think about him far too often for it to be healthy. I think about how much I loved him, what I did to be with him, what I gave up, what I lost, but also what I gained. It might seem like nothing to many people, but I gained the knowledge of what I never want again. Of what I never want to feel again, of what I never want to hear again. I gained the knowledge that love does in fact not hurt, it heals. And when it hurts, it is not love.

Our story is an amazing one, I think we were just too young when we met the first time and the second time {10 years later} was not the right time. We made ourselves believe it was though, but having something that started out wrong was bound to end wrong. And boy did it ever.

We fell into a love that you simply do not ever fully recover from. A chemistry so strong that it could be good, so good…and bad, so bad. A chemistry that many described as dangerous. And again, boy was it ever! We are over now, have been for a number of years, but in our souls we will always be each other’s other. The one that taught us more that we would like to admit, the one that hurt the other more than we could ever explain and the ones that loved each so much that it literally nearly killed them.

He is my forever, the one that will that will continue to live in a small place in the corner of my heart, mind and soul. His name tattooed on my body marking every place he ever touched. Every place his eyes ever landed. The one that will always be both my best and worst memory. He is my one. Well, was my one. That’s the only difference now. That’s the only thing that has changed.

I believe I will never love another man with the same intensity and passion with which I loved him, and that’s okay. We had a great love, when it was good it was amazing. But the bad out numbered the good nine times out of ten. He was it, until he was no more. Until he changed. Until the man I loved lived no more.

I don’t want to replace that love. I’ve used men over the last few months to replace his memory, it won’t ever work…I tried hard, I really did. It’s not fair to them and it is indeed not fair to me to continue to try and do that. It is with this epiphany that I am now able to move forward into the hope that I will in fact be okay, that I will fall in love again and that I will be loved in return. Although he will always be a part of me as I will be a part of him, trying to write his story out of me will never work. Trying has exhausted me. Even my tired is tired.

*I’m just tired. But wait…I still have a date tonight {fok}

Women & Heartache: The devil you know

Cheating, Love, Relationships, Uncategorized

His memory comes and goes like the changing tides. Not nearly as predictable although sometimes I wish they were, so I can see it coming instead of it hitting me in the middle of a random Saturday morning like a ton of bricks. I hate the emotions attached to his memory the most; they are so schizophrenic it exhausts me. There’s the love, the love that completely overwhelmed me for years…a love I know I will never have again for another man. The hate, the utter and absolute hatred I felt for him for such a long time for allowing me to suffer at his hand, for treating me the way he did, for lying, cheating and taking things from me as a woman that never belonged to him. For moving on so quickly while I continued to suffer, every single day, even now.

wordpress_devil you know

Often weeks go by without a single thought of mine being infected by his memory. Those are the good days. I loved that man. Goodness gracious, did I love him. Even the words “I loved him” is a slap in the face {pardon that pun if you know why it’s a pun, then you’ll know why that’s funny} to the love I felt.

I have had some devilish ideas lately where I thought it’s a good idea to talk to him, but all I really wanted to do is look at his face, touch his skin, smell him…hear his voice. I still miss him. I hate that I still do, because he doesn’t. These thoughts are not good for me and so the distractions start. I thought I was done with the distractions because mostly they lead me down a path I stopped walking a while ago.

It’s been better since I stopped that, it’s been a good year so far, albeit we’re only in the 4th month; my birthday month. This is why it’s happening!!! The last birthday we celebrated together was my 31st birthday, two years ago. It was already over at that point, I thought him making the effort he did was a way of him trying, one last time. It wasn’t. The next day I had my family over for dinner, he “went to a work function”. Never came home, showed up the next day drunk and high attacking me…until I left.

I ended it one week later {because you know the apologies, begging and pleading lasts about 4 days}.

I gave him an hour to pack while my daughter sat in the lounge. He left with only three bags, but he also left with my heart, my sanity, with everything I needed to move past him. And so my suffering continued, while he did not. While he had someone else’s hand to hold, I was left, with nothing but fucking tears and sadness, and a broken mother fucking heart {notice the anger seeping through…it is only this anger that keep me from breaking my #nocontact rule}.

I cry often at the thought of him, of us, of what I did, what he did. What we never said, what we did say, the words…the hurtful words that changed me. Words that today, when I hear them, sets off what can only be described as a bomb because my reaction to it hurts more people than it heals. My body seeks out these words, my body wants to feel something: if it’s incapable of feeling love, it will continue to feel hate: if I can’t fall in love, I will continue to envelope myself in anger. This is not good. This is what I have tried to stop. I am getting better. But the progress is slow.

So now my biggest fear is knowing that one day I will be better, that I will be able to move on, fall in love again and then; that day, I will no longer remember what it was like to love him.

Sex & Relationships: The ultimate act of surrender S.01 Epi.02

Relationships, sex, Uncategorized, Woman, women

“…Because something tells me that there are memories wrapped up inside of him that might just belong to me.”

The story of The Architect and I started early last year when a mutual friend suggested we become Facebook friends, we did.

Fast forward to our first kiss almost a year later. Our first time: a month and a bit afterwards.

Rewind a few hours before to realize that I was tequila drunk and quite honestly don’t remember the details of that momentous occasion. Regret and trying to fill in drunken blanks are a most entertaining combination.

wordpress_second chance at first time

Fast forward again to two weeks later when drunk me decided to tell him I don’t want to see him anymore! Yes, I did. What was I supposed to do? Two people that like each other just had sex, you’d think that changes things and he would act like it. I didn’t feel that he did and my angry birds started acting up again.

My friends tried to explain to me that these things take time; going from friends to realizing there’s the possibility of more, to being intimate, to seeing each other and then to being something exclusive before it even becomes official.

Fast forward to another month later, another kiss later and I remember how much I actually really like this one, and that that’s good enough to start. So I said it. But because I’m not that brave, even Dutch courage never allowed me to dial his number…I texted “I like you and you like me, and I think we deserve to see if that’s enough to start” He said I was sweet, demanding…but sweet wins though, and best of all, he never said NO, the way I did, so many times before.

I know there are reasons he has for not wanting a girlfriend, so I won’t be that, I’ll just be. I waited this long for him; another few weeks won’t kill me.

Fast forward to a few days later, and the best part in our story yet…I finally got my second chance to experience our first time, and it was most probably the best thing I have had the privilege of being a part of in a very long time. At some point he said “God dammit, you’re beautiful, Woman!” and that right there was everything. made it worth it.

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