Suddenly, my life was all about timing. All the right things, said at all the wrong times. My past – coming back way too fast, and my future taking way too long to come home.
We could only wonder how she would be able to dust herself off and start over again. And yet we knew we couldn’t bear for her not to, and felt ever more optimistic that after all her struggles, she would someday meet her man, her equal a man with the same charisma, love of life, and humanity she possessed. In the meantime, she’d have her friends. And the knowledge that she deserved the world.
Maybe our girlfriends are our soul mates and guys are just people to have fun with.
And I’m worried…I, I’m afraid that he took away my ability to believe. And I hate him for that. Because I always believed before. And now I just feel lost. And I am, I’m trying to put myself out there, but I feel hopeless.
As we drive along this road called life, occasionally a gal will find herself a little lost. And when that happens, I guess she has to let go of the coulda-shoulda-woulda, buckle up, and just keep going.
I make mistakes. That’s what I do. I speak without thinking, I act without knowing. I drink so much that I can barely walk… I’m a fantastic lover though, and an amazing friend. God knows I mean well.
What if Prince Charming had never showed up? Would Snow White have slept in that glass coffin forever? Or would she have eventually woke up, spit out the apple, gotten a job, a healthcare package, and a baby from her local neighborhood sperm bank? I couldn’t help but wonder… Inside every confident, driven, single woman, is there a delicate, fragile princess just waiting to be saved?
She is my friend. She’s my family. My insides. She will be fine because she has to be fine. That’s how important she is to me.
That night I started to think about belief. Maybe it’s not even advisable to be an optimist anymore. Maybe pessimism is something we have to apply daily, like moisturizer, otherwise how do you bounce back when reality batters your belief system, and love does not, as promised, conquer all? Is hope a drug we need to go off of, or is it keeping us alive? What’s the harm in believing?
I would love to be one of those people who’s all: ‘we loved, thank you, you enhanced my life, now go, prosper,’ but I’m much more: ‘we didn’t work out, you need not to exist.’
I’m looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love. And I don’t think that love is here in this expensive suite in this lovely hotel in Paris.
I realized I had just entered an interesting chapter in my life. I had outgrown the boys of my past and not quite grown into the men of my future.
And then I realized I do have faith. Faith in myself. Faith that I would one day meet someone who would be sure that I was the one.
Look I know that you’re probably scared, and I would be too, but it’s different now. Things are different. I’m, I’m different.
Some love stories aren’t epic novels, some are short stories. But, that doesn’t make them any less filled with love.
That’s the thing about needs. Sometimes when you get them met, you don’t need them anymore.
I admit it’s tempting to wish for the perfect boss, the perfect parent, or the perfect outfit. But maybe the best any of us can do is not quit, play the hand we’ve been dealt, and accessorize what we’ve got.
So now I’m gonna say it. I feel like, I’m back in your life, and nothing has really changed. And I know you can’t change a man, and you definitely can’t change a man like you, but, I still want something to change. A little bit. For me.
I wanted to go to him, but I felt like I was tied to the chair. Some part of me was holding me back, knowing I had gone too far, reached my limit.
Because being in an actual relationship means taking a risk, you know? It’s just, a leap of faith. No matter how many times one might have been disappointed in the past.
So just live, make mistakes, and have wonderful times. But never ever second guess who you are, where you have been, and most importantly, where it is that you are going.
I don’t believe this, now we are dumping guys for being too available? This is solid proof of the what I’ve been reading in a great new book. It says that if you really want to get married, you shouldn’t be spending so much time with dysfunctional women.
It doesn’t matter how much you have, if you don’t have a guy who cares about you, it don’t mean shit.
The thing that gets me is that I’m not usually wrong about the phone number size up. I don’t put it out there unless I’m pretty damn sure it’s coming back.
Maybe, you don’t believe it’s for real, unless someone is playing hard to get.
When you’re young, your whole life is about the pursuit of fun. Then, you grow up and learn to be cautious. You could break a bone or a heart. You look before you leap and sometimes you don’t leap at all because there’s not always someone there to catch you. And in life, there’s no safety net. When did it stop being fun and start being scary?
Maybe its maturity or the wisdom that comes with age, but the witch in Hansel and Gretel—she’s very misunderstood. I mean, the woman builds her dream house and these brats come along and start eating it.
Being single used to mean that nobody wanted you. Now it means you’re pretty, sexy, and you’re taking your time deciding how you want your life to be and who you want to spend it with.
