My ex and I had a nickname for each other. TLOML. The love of my life.
I just read an article today about one woman's TLOML and why she was glad she didn't wind up with him. Ironically, my story is the opposite. My ex was actually the second TLOML in the author's scenario. I was still looking for the first, so I let him go.
There's something about the intensity of the passion, the fire and ice, that I am simply drawn to. I've always felt that I live at opposite ends of the spectrum, rather than in-between where the seas are calmer.
It's only because of the night that I can appreciate the day and only in the storm that I can see the lighthouse.
Touch by Daughter
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Monday, October 12, 2015
The Hardest-est Part
I have been avoiding this post almost like the plague, but I'm overly-emotional and highly sensitive in this moment.
My Caribbean boyfriend is gone. I have not heard from him in six months. I ask myself almost daily if I am ready to let him go, because a part of me wants so desperately for him to be just that - gone. But the other part knows he can never be truly gone from me. He's my soul's compass after all, my beacon in the storm. Yet he is gone.
"The thing that most of us really want from love: to be known, to be seen, to be understood." If I saw him today, I would say to him that just because he knew me in a way no one ever had before doesn't mean he loved me enough for "falling in love is not the same as staying in love." And I could not make him stay...that was his choice.
"Falling in Love is the easy part." The hardest part comes later, much later. But "what I have...is the chance to make the choice to love someone, and the hope that he will choose to love me back, and it is terrifying, but that's the deal with love."
Yet, that's still not the hardest-est part. The last communication I received from him was a message for which I was not prepared. So stupid of me. What did I expect? What do I care? It was all an illusion anyway. But, damn, it was a good one, a great one.
Yes, he's a father.
Stay by Rihanna
My Caribbean boyfriend is gone. I have not heard from him in six months. I ask myself almost daily if I am ready to let him go, because a part of me wants so desperately for him to be just that - gone. But the other part knows he can never be truly gone from me. He's my soul's compass after all, my beacon in the storm. Yet he is gone.
"The thing that most of us really want from love: to be known, to be seen, to be understood." If I saw him today, I would say to him that just because he knew me in a way no one ever had before doesn't mean he loved me enough for "falling in love is not the same as staying in love." And I could not make him stay...that was his choice.
"Falling in Love is the easy part." The hardest part comes later, much later. But "what I have...is the chance to make the choice to love someone, and the hope that he will choose to love me back, and it is terrifying, but that's the deal with love."
Yet, that's still not the hardest-est part. The last communication I received from him was a message for which I was not prepared. So stupid of me. What did I expect? What do I care? It was all an illusion anyway. But, damn, it was a good one, a great one.
Yes, he's a father.
Stay by Rihanna
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