Clemson Chick's blog: "Writings..real blogs"

Why is it that love always comes back when you least expect it? Even if you don't even want it or ask for it, it somehow sneaks back into your life. Like a thief trying to steal a part of you that you try so hard to protect. It leaves you so defenseless because once you're caught in it, your mind, body and soul become exposed. I'm not talking about love where you're kind of vulnerable. The kind of love I'm talking about is the kind that can tear you apart or build you with just a few words from you know who. When you're in its throws you can't help but give in too wherever it takes you. When it hits, it hits so hard you can sometimes literally feel sick in the stomach. Either way, your hands and feet feel like blocks of ice. Your heart beats like an overworked race horse that just can't seem to stop no matter how hard you try. I'm not sure what it is that triggers it. It could be a glance that's dangerously too long, a smile that's more than just a smile, or touch on the shoulder that makes you surrender your very soul. Whatever it is, your actions, thoughts and words don't belong to you anymore. Nothing in this world is as good and bad for you at the same time. So, I have to say that as of right now I'm in a love/hate relationship with love.

Don't read too much into these words. I just had to get a few things off of my chest, and if you really know me (either on here or in RL) then you will be able to read between the lines... BJ I cant believe I have found you Ive searched for years and years To finally find my one true love Though my eyes still fill with tears. Tears that I can not hold you And Kiss your lips and say Merry Christmas to you my darling I wish you were here today. You see I can not tell you, As I fear you don't feel the same. So alone in my heart this Christmas In my mind I play a game. Of you and me together Waking on Christmas morn Your body and mine entwined Of a new love just born. I would hand you your present, A gold heart in a box thats blue The heart is mine for you to own To show you my love is true. Please make my dreams be real And this Christmas be with me Spend a lifetime never to part You and I were meant to be.

What makes it so damn hard to find a little understanding? Think about it. All of us have been through similar situations. We've all been through love and heartbreak. Through being the one who dumps to being the one who's dumped. We all can point at one another when we hear their tale told, saying "I know exactly what you mean!" And yet, when it comes to our own personal romantic endeavors, we can't admit that the other person has been in the same position that we have. We become completely centrally focused. Why don't they want me? Why don't they obsess over me? Why did they break up with me? Don't they know that I do the breaking up around here? Well, damn. Think about it. Why did you not want that nice guy/girl that chased you around? Why didn't you obsess over the girl/guy who remembered to tell you every day how much you meant to them? Why did you find their behavior stifling, smothering, invasive? Why did that lead you to break up with them? Why did you find it so odd that they became nuts about it afterwards and left you scratching you head as to what their problem was? We all spend so much time trying to figure out how to outwit, outplay, outlast our romantic interests. Why can't we just accept things for how they are? I'm not preaching here, I'm really very curious. I spend too much time trying to plot my next move: Is it bad if I want to call him over stupid shit I just thought of? (Or in the age of the internet.... to send a random e-mail?) Do I pretend that I don't give a fuck? Do I act cool, distant, aloof to keep from coming off as too interested? But.... what if that icyness makes them think that I'm not interested at all? Fucking damned if I do and damned if I don't. Why can't we all just be straight forward and honest with each other? To show interest, but to admit at the same time that we're just as confused as they are in deciding where that interest is heading. I've gotten old enough that I think I might have figured out what it is that I think I want. But I'm also old enough to realize that that criteria very well might change based on a variety of unknown future events. I want someone who wants me. I want someone who talks to me about what's going on in their head. Even if it seems stupid. Trust me, I know I'll be talking about stupid shit, so there's no need to worry about coming off as a doofus. I want someone who respects my opinions, even if they don't match theirs. Someone whose initial feelings about me won't change once we fuck. (aka: treat me at the very least the same way you did prior to the deed or up the ante. No backtracking.) I want someone (yes, I know I say this a lot) who gets me. Someone who knows how to counter my pissiness when I'm having a bad day by laughing off whatever nonsense I might say. Someone who doesn't walk away when I fight them off. Because sometimes, the squirmers are the ones you need to hold onto the hardest. And I know by now, that patience and persistence work on me. Does it mean that you have to endure madness at times? Sure. But it also just means that you have to be able to keep from taking things personally. I know that's a difficult thing to ask of anyone..... but the rewards are great. Some of the people that I am willing to die for are people that I haven't even seen in a few years (or ones I've yet to meet face to face). I'm that loyal of a motherfucker. Once you've stuck by me, you're stuck with me. It was hard to write that out. Uncomfortable to see in writing that I know how much of a pain in the ass I can be. To admit that I want to be loved. It feels so weak to admit to people that you want to be loved. That you need to be loved. That somehow you'll come off as a simpleton, a wuss, a fucking emo kid. We all rag on that behaviour, but..... is the heart of it really all that bad? Is it really that awful to say that you want to be loved? The fear of rejection is overwhelming, yes. But tell me one thing that feels better than having someone look at you, reach for your hand..... and agree

For most people, when they said I do, they could not imagine that in time they would be saying-I don't anymore. So much of our live are intertwined to relationships with others that when one of the deepest, most important relationship we can experience is broken, life does not seem to make sense anymore. The realization that the dreams we had planned to share with our spouse will never occur can be devastating. Often times people try to downplay their negative feelings and grief over the loss of a relationship, but this can be dangerous. Going through a divorce or separation is a major life crisis and it takes time to heal. Some of the emotional effects of divorce can include: A shattered self image. So much of who we are as individuals is intertwined with being a husband, wife or significant other to another person. When the relationship with that other person ends the parts of us that orbits around the other person also seems to die. Anger is also a healthy, normal response to divorce. If the anger is allowed to escalate into rage or prolonged for a long period then it can become very problematic. Feeling unlovable is also common. Men and women may believe that if the person they were closest to could leave them (especially if it is for someone else), then he or she must not be worthy of receiving love. Fear is another natural reaction to the dissolution of a relationship. Fear of the unknown and giving up comfort zones, income, being the sole provider are all inescapable thoughts. There are a host of other adjectives that could be used to describe how a person might feel after experiencing the life shattering pain of divorce. Each person is different and will go through the grieving process in their own way experiencing their own set of emotions at their own pace. It is unwise to try to race past these emotions in a desire to be totally and quickly over the pain. Pain can be the touchstone for growth, and experiencing the emotions is part of the journey. Experiencing your feelings, even though it may not seem or feel good, is part of the healing process. So what do we do when the marriage is over?-In time, make new dreams. Help your children (that is to say, if you have children) and others to achieve their dreams. Don't try to rush through the grieving process to get to this point. Most experts agree that generally it will take at least two years to recover from a broken relationship. How long has it taken you to recover from your broken relationship? What positive steps did you take that were helpful to you in the recovery process?

Last night I was cleaning out my closet getting rid of old shoes and laughed b/c I realized that I was "fall" cleaning my life as well as my closet. I've recently ended things with the man whom I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. We were together for almost 5 years. Yes, we were married, but, it all came down to that simple fact: I can not be in a non-relationship relationship with someone for a prolonged period of time. I can't share hopes and dreams, talk about childhoods, whisper sweet nothings, share myself with someone who doesn't love me. It doesn't make sense to me, and frankly, I hope it never does. I respect myself too much to have a sustained sexual, emotional, intellectual connection with someone who can't appreciate the beauty and wonder that I add to their lives (2007 update, I wrote this in September of 06, yet I find myself in a situation almost identical to that as before. I am talking about the words that are in bold print above...what a freaking joke!). As I went through my shoes I had memories of all of them and had a hard time letting go. It's the same for men, isn't it? I pulled out my black, silk high heels, with the great little ankle ties. Sigh, just like the doctor. Glamorous, beautiful, head turner, but wow, they really hurt and I never felt stable in them. I was always excited when I put them on, but by the end of the night I was glad it was over, and they always left a little lingering pain. I'd forget the pain every time I looked at them again, but they never were comfortable. Time to let them go. Next I pulled out my Kenneth Cole kitten-heeled boots. They reminded me of a certain musician. Sleek, stylish, felt great on my feet, made me look like the urban sophisticate I knew I was. Only problem, they didn't go with anything in my closet. I bought them, I paid the price, and I loved them, but somehow they just didn't fit with my life and my lifestyle. Try as I might to make them work, they just stood out and reminded me that sometimes we can really love something, but love alone doesn't make a great outfit or a great relationship. I could have taken them to a cobbler, had the heels changed, the soles changed, or bought a bunch of new outfits to go with these boots, but neither choice was good. Change is only good if necessary, and neither these boots nor my wardrobe really needed change. They were both fine, exactly as they were. With this realization I let go and put the boots in the donation pile. Somewhere out there is a woman with exactly the right clothes to go with these beautiful boots. She will see my boots and instantly fall in love. The boots will be in the right place at the right time, I wish them many beautiful outings together. Recently, I went on match.com (just to amuse myself, go figure) and realized that, just like shoes, new technology allows us to shop for men. The variety is amazing, the selection enticing, but I know I have limits (and standards, which I will NEVER lower again. I did the last time and look what it got me), and want to make good choices. This time I'll pass at the glamour girl shoes that cause ingrown toenails, calluses and sprained ankles. Pain is never good, no matter how pretty the shoes. I'll pass on the exotic choices that don't fit with who I really am. As much fun as it is trying them on, if I can't wear them they just remind me of what's missing in my life. I want real shoes for my real life, my real clothes, for me. Somewhere out there is a beautiful shoe. Well-made, well-designed, meant to be worn. They won't fall apart with a little dancing and walking. They'll add style and sophistication to all the outfits I own, and inspire me to buy new things to expand on my already perfect wardrobe. I'll know them when I see them on the shelf. The sight of them will make me smile. I'll walk by and then come back. Not afraid to take a chance, I'll try them on and walk on the carpet. Turning this way and that I'll realize that they are beautiful and feel as though I've worn them every day of my life. I'll buy them and put my old shoes in the bag. Do you really think Cinderella ever wore anything else once she found her glass slippers?