New Years Eve 2012
It's been a while since I've written. Life kind of got put on hold the last few years as the real estate crash of 2007-2008 extended its tidal wave into every tentacle of our lives with its stolen dreams. Yet nothing in life stays as t is and slowly, the dark veil and clouds of winter lifted and all the colors and wonder of spring began to burst.
On top of that, I met a man, who beyond his years, is the type of man I have been wanting to meet forever and even amidst obstacles, somehow, we met. It has been years since I let the fortress guard down and began to trust, to feel, to believe, to dream again, seeing the beauty in every moment, hanging on a thread to hear his voice, to say goodnight, to fantasize about being together until the last breath. He colors my world, inspires, empowers, motivates, accepts me in every way.
Forever the optimist, I find myself slipping from grace. The measurement I have of a man hails from my father, the epitome of a true Southern Gentleman. The integrity of men that I expect in ar relatonshiop is from his modeling has and is rare, the honesty of one's word has little meaning anymore, the influx of technology has poisoned the very foundation of chivalry, letting people look for the greener side of the grass even when they are on the most lushest of lawns.
Nothing is sacred anymore. Not a handshake. Not a kiss. Not someone's words amongst texts and other superficial means of communication. I feel sorry for the upcoming generation for their reliance on an illusion, so be it that they will ever know a solid foundation and what it's built on. I heard once that the letter 'w' stood for the number 6 and that the "www" as in the world wide web was equivalent to "666". How many lives has it touched, lifted, informed and ultimately destroyed? Evil in it's most cunning disguise?
We've been dating exclusively for years, today I found his profile on Plenty of Fish after a wrenching gut feeling to look up after he had added a dozen new, single women my age to his Facebook profile. I am crushed, disenchanted, disappointed and broken all rolled up into one. Its inconsolable grief. The raw, vulnerable emotion that leaves a hole in your stomach, the sharp stabbing that cuts the heart like butter, the imagination spinning relentlessly, the random and endless river of tears knowing that this is the reality.
When confronted, he cried, he seems authentic in his guilt so I will forgive and try to move on.
Through the last decade, humility, perseverance, faith, and hope have been my teachers. On one level, I'm devastated as I feel I have spent my life waiting, doing what is right, investing in "men " to offer me the same respect that I show, to lay down at night and know that the person beside me will never betray me because the love is unpenetratable even when there is opportunity knocking at the door, I want an everlasting love the same type as my parents had and so many of my friends have found even when it's not all peaches and cream. The conflict is part of the growth and appreciation of the other's attributes, idiosyncrasies, imperfections and acceptance is the part that keeps it growing.
My dad passed away 20 years ago and I only have two items left that were his, one is a book that he gave me called Nearer to Thee with little poems he loved of inspiration through adversity. The other item he put in my car around the radio knob, it says "This world is NOT my home. I'm just passing thru.
On top of that, I met a man, who beyond his years, is the type of man I have been wanting to meet forever and even amidst obstacles, somehow, we met. It has been years since I let the fortress guard down and began to trust, to feel, to believe, to dream again, seeing the beauty in every moment, hanging on a thread to hear his voice, to say goodnight, to fantasize about being together until the last breath. He colors my world, inspires, empowers, motivates, accepts me in every way.
Forever the optimist, I find myself slipping from grace. The measurement I have of a man hails from my father, the epitome of a true Southern Gentleman. The integrity of men that I expect in ar relatonshiop is from his modeling has and is rare, the honesty of one's word has little meaning anymore, the influx of technology has poisoned the very foundation of chivalry, letting people look for the greener side of the grass even when they are on the most lushest of lawns.
Nothing is sacred anymore. Not a handshake. Not a kiss. Not someone's words amongst texts and other superficial means of communication. I feel sorry for the upcoming generation for their reliance on an illusion, so be it that they will ever know a solid foundation and what it's built on. I heard once that the letter 'w' stood for the number 6 and that the "www" as in the world wide web was equivalent to "666". How many lives has it touched, lifted, informed and ultimately destroyed? Evil in it's most cunning disguise?
We've been dating exclusively for years, today I found his profile on Plenty of Fish after a wrenching gut feeling to look up after he had added a dozen new, single women my age to his Facebook profile. I am crushed, disenchanted, disappointed and broken all rolled up into one. Its inconsolable grief. The raw, vulnerable emotion that leaves a hole in your stomach, the sharp stabbing that cuts the heart like butter, the imagination spinning relentlessly, the random and endless river of tears knowing that this is the reality.
When confronted, he cried, he seems authentic in his guilt so I will forgive and try to move on.
Through the last decade, humility, perseverance, faith, and hope have been my teachers. On one level, I'm devastated as I feel I have spent my life waiting, doing what is right, investing in "men " to offer me the same respect that I show, to lay down at night and know that the person beside me will never betray me because the love is unpenetratable even when there is opportunity knocking at the door, I want an everlasting love the same type as my parents had and so many of my friends have found even when it's not all peaches and cream. The conflict is part of the growth and appreciation of the other's attributes, idiosyncrasies, imperfections and acceptance is the part that keeps it growing.
My dad passed away 20 years ago and I only have two items left that were his, one is a book that he gave me called Nearer to Thee with little poems he loved of inspiration through adversity. The other item he put in my car around the radio knob, it says "This world is NOT my home. I'm just passing thru.
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