|
A Woman Missing a Man
I've become convinced that there exists a parallel universe- a parallel universe where I wake up in your arms; I wake up to a sense of wholeness and security that I previously had not believed I would ever find. In this parallel universe I followed when you asked me to come, I didn't misinterpret your gestures and doubt your sincerity and go about my day. In this parallel universe I lacked the crippling insecurities that kept me from diving headfirst into the unknown. In this alternate reality I trusted my enough to go forth without reservation. In this alternate reality you weren't left doubting and I wan't left sending these cyber messages in a bottle to the one I truly believe got away. . You'd think it ridiculous but I remember the first time I met you and, several years later, the second. Really it was the second that counted. It was several years later and, to be completely honest, I had forgotten you even existed. I'm hoping that whatever ous you're perceiving might be alleviated by this admission: seeing you again took my breath away and you know me well enough to know I would cringe at typing something like that. I- believe it or not- am not a romantic. I am a realist who has never held her breath as a man walked by...yet somehow I was left speechless. I remember sheepishly admitting to a friend that I was crazy about that guy whose name I didn't even know. Love at second sight. And every sight thereafter for the next years. You know how the next (roughly) years go: Missed connections, just-barely-off timing, alternately wondering if the other even knew the other even existed, -analyzing every second glance, bated breaths and alternating states of singledom...a projection film that repeats randomly and blind-sides me on nights like tonight and, more frequently, in my dreams. See, I escape you in the waking hours...but I can't keep you out of my dreams.When my defenses are down, there you are: smiling through glass, waving from afar, sneaking a touch in passing... I don't dream like that anymore. . Distance begets . I suspect it was the universe sensing I need a break, as suddenly and inexplicably you were gone. There were sure fire ways to reach you and I definitely made a fool of myself doing so, but those colossal embarrassments a wall that was beginning to grow around my heart. Don't be mistaken, I am by no means an ice-woman for whom the adjectives 'cold' and 'distant' could be applied, but we can all agree it was time; even an atheist like me appreciated the divine intervention that effected to break the hold you had over me. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't easy. Reminders of you are hard to escape; from our overlapping social circles to the view to the south of the 8 as I head home, there are countless triggers that cause the image of your grinning face to across my idle mind on lazy Sundays. But your image is to a fuzzy . Time heals even the deepest of wounds. . I hate moving on. I wound up doubting and heartbroken and devastated over perceived , yet somehow it was a whirlwind that felt nothing short of magical and took my breath away on a regular basis. Life is boring without it. . I wish I could get a do over. I wish you could meet the new me. I sit here now- a woman who sought escape in relentlessly pursuing her passions and dreams, who sits here now on the precipice of everything she ever dreamed of becoming a reality, a woman who finally loves herself enough to let another love her- wishing we'd met under entirely different circumstances. As strong as I am, I can't begin to entertain the idea of wondering what-if. If we had met under these entirely new circumstances...well I can't help but think everything would be different and as strong as I am, I may break at the thought of what could have been. . Sometimes I think back on everything, and I swear I can feel you thinking about me; in those moments I cannot believe that something that feels so real does not exist in some alternate reality or some alternate universe. It doesn't. On nights like tonight- where the gift of time and space and the luxury of the attention of too many men to count provides enough space for objectivity to present itself- I still feel you and still fail to believe that something that feels so real could be nothing more than a figment of my imagination. It is. I am a fatalist. What's meant to be usually is and when it's not: well, that should be self explanatory. That parallel universe exists only in those split seconds I looking to each side of myself as I lay in bed moments before I fully awaken. . Fuckin' yeah, . ------------------------------------------------------------ Don't even read this the rambling of a woman who drinks beers and suddenly thinks she is a literary mastermind. Seriously, don't read this.
|
I want a local women wanting to fuck girl for friendship. 
Good time with a fine guy
Looking for a women. Enjoys or lacks being treating like they should be. I'm good guy that enjoys ladies wants sex tonight Newllano making women feel special. Take you out on a nice date get to know each other, have fun. Then from there you choose. 
