Me, Myself and I


Goodbye Lover                                                                    Me, myself and I

It happens to us all when a relationship ends, it is painful, it hurts, no matter if it ends amicably or your the person to end it, it will hurt and the recovery period isn’t set in stone, it’s not like a pot roast, we cannot set a time for our pain to be done, pain demands to be felt and boy does it get felt.
Like a wound in the initial period, we try cleaning it and covering it up, going out with friends, sleeping around, drinking, throwing ourselves into work, but we soon realize ignoring the wound won’t make it heal, the ugly nature of it is still there and if we don’t address it, it will scar.
We can be said to over analzye, often I wonder if this is the downfall of myself, the fact that I analzye and sructinize aspects of aspects till the aspects start to blur, you question your questions and come up with no answers, so in the end, it is best to go with your heart, your instinct, to listen to the nature call of your heart; because we all have a preference, even in the midst of our pain, we kinda know what the best route is, we just know it won’t be easy. If anyone has experience in breaking up you know, it is not easy, you plan your words of hurt, arranging them like a scrabble game, hoping to morph them to words of comfort, but that will never happen, the other person won’t remember the words you wrapped in cotton wool or the nice things you said to pad the fall, they remember the harshness; relationships are like passing out, you don’t remember all said and done in the moment, just the most painful bits, you remember the sharp edges that cut, the blunt force that you felt thud in your chest.

Being part of a break up never gets easier, you just become better at dusting yourself off, better at telling yourself that things will turn out ok, you get better at moving, you know that the pain felt will simmer and that there is hope, hope you hold to get you through the darker days when the light at the end of the tunnel keeps flickering off. As human nature goes, we learn and we learn to know that breaking up means also pulling ourselves together.

Feelings are sometimes hard to articulate, feelings don’t follow a break up recipe, In break ups you feel hurt because maybe they just accepted it, selfishly you wanted them to show you their pain so you could see if you are making the right decision, but his pain is his and he can decide not to share, but it makes us feel unwanted, like he had just been waiting for the time till you ended it. When someone accepts so easily it makes going easier, why shall one person be fighting while the other hasn’t even drawn their sword.
To be fully honest in the past I have had a selfish pain, a selfish pain of feeling unwanted and feeling that after so long why couldn’t I make it work, maybe I’ll just never be happy and never deserve to be. When I ended a previous relationship I thought, what have I done! I have hurt a perfectly good man to find what a better one? that’s the scary part, what is a better man and where is he? where is that person and when will I find him? I’m quite a independent person and I don’t struggle to meet people but a connection through the minds doesn’t come often, so despite the scary abyss that now is the unknown,
I’m prepared to wait for someone who will try harder, for the person that will make me feel not complete as that comes from inside, but someone who brings curves to my edges and a brightness to my spirit.
A relationship should add value, you should not look in the mirror and think your less than you ever could be, you should look in the mirror and think you are more than you ever thought you would become.
So people sit with your wounds and your scars, let them heal and learn to be just be happy by yourself and say, ‘I made a choice to fall in love and get hurt and that is a choice I’m happy with, as the saying goes you don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you get a choice in who hurts you and I’m happy with my choices.’
So when breaking up take a look on the inside before searching for someone else on the outside, to love again you need to get back to the you, the you knew you were before the previous person claimed something, you take that back, whether it is crushed or crumbled, and you rebuild yourself, you are not putting up walls you are creating your new boundaries.

So this time now is all
About Me, Myself and I


Laying in wait

I’m not cold or hardened
I’m just not sure
I’m uncertain of what love is anymore
I can’t touch it to tell you it is there
It is like a legend, a fable
A story told that’s fades like a wisp on the cold morning air.

I have felt it and embraced it
but now the feelings gone
Once it engulfed me, now it is a haze on the horizon,
sand shifting in a desert storm

I’m worried it has passed me
Rushing through like hurried bodies
leaving me with muddy prints,
Left is just a tiny reminder
That yes love once was here

Sometimes I crave an intimate hand
To hold me not for a second but four
For physical contact to mean something deeper,
something more

But I’m scared of the next person
They have a lot of work to do
I’m not sure I’m ready to commit
to being that person that doesn’t fit

I’m done with taking my feelings and brushing them down,
so when I hurt you
or leave early In the morning
Maybe I don’t take your number or text you back
Please don’t be hurt

I’m just watching my back

It’s a Loving Feeling


Love is something the world seems to revolve around, but why? Why is it that we have this inner desire to be desired, loved and betrothed to someone. Love is a feeling, a feeling that consumes and swims through our veins intoxicating us into love-lorn puppies. Love has the power to cripple us and consume our thoughts, it’s like a drug that you never really asked for, something that comes in unexpectedly when maybe you never invited it.

What is love and why do we all get sucked in by it? Does love really even exist or is it just a word we made up to describe a feeling that we cannot explain and cannot see? You cannot measure someone’s love, you cannot even see someone’s love. How can you ever trust someone when they say they love you as really love is made up. Love is made up to explain a feeling, a feeling that no-one can see, or measure. People everyday entwine themselves in relationships for the sake of love but in reality are we meant to be a one man/woman creatures; maybe love is meant to run a course and then you move on, maybe love needs to not have so many restrictions on it.

I have said ‘I love you’ to three people in my life and I can truly say I have only loved 2 out of 3. There’s your first love, the love you give everything to and lose yourself in and come out wondering if you will ever feel that way again about anything, love as hard, as much and as freely. Your first love always hold’s that place in your heart, that place that never really tarnish’s with time, they kind of stay in a suspended bliss. Then there’s love after the first love that is more measured and you are more aware to not lose yourself so easy but is losing yourself just too easy to do in love.

Love has many levels, but how do you know the level of love you feel is enough, is the right amount that equates to finding the ever so coveted ‘One.’  People look ardently for ‘The one’ to whisk them off their feet and to live happily ever after, but as I get older I get further away from believing in ‘The one’ and happy ever after. Love is over rated, or maybe I love in the wrong places. All I can say I got from love is heartache that I’d rather not deal with, they say loving can be the best thing you have ever done, and yes it can be until love isn’t enough. Maybe I am bitter, maybe I am in need of a knight in shining armour, but nowadays the knights are less shiny and make you pay for the drinks. Men have become less romantic, bring me the man who still holds doors open for a woman, a guy who is on a night out not just to put a notch on the bed post. The day of the chivalrous man seem to be over, they are cruder and ruder than ever and the sweeping of the feet is merely but a dated dream. Has the ever-growing independence of woman brung the man to new low levels of thinking it’s okay to slap a girls arse as a gesture of hello on a night out, or shout do you want a f@&k across the room, like you’re going to jump up and down clapping your hands saying yes please (if you do, self-respect needs to be gathered off the floor). Having lived like we all do as we breathe the air we breathe my faith in men lowers daily to new lows because in reality many find it hard to keep it in their trousers. Women can be just as bad I hear men wail in the far corners and I do not doubt this, but the men I can count my fingers that have done the dirty far exceed the one’s of women I can count on my hand.

Love is a multi-faceted concept that has been created by man/woman to name a feeling so many people feel, but to me love is just something that has to prove its self to me before I believe in it again and that may take a while, a good jolly while.