Category Archives: romance

All is fair in love and war

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The art of building and maintaining a relationship is a craft that is sometimes difficult to master.  There is a fine balance between debating and fighting and it is a balance that every couple has to find.

love and war

 

(image courtesy of Google)

When they say all is fair in love and war, what they are really saying is – it has to be fair.  There are things everyone needs in their relationships and everyone’s needs are different.  You may need to feel supported or you may need to feel challenged, but everyone has a need.  It is up to you to figure out what your needs really are and, at the end of process, to be fair to your partner while fulfilling those needs.

I was talking to a good friend recently about what he needs and we talked about “the list” – taking the time to write the list of what is important to you in a relationship, what type of feedback matters to you and writing those needs on a piece of paper.  If you put those feelings out into the universe and let the world know what you need, it WILL find you.  And that is part of being fair to yourself.  Being fair to your partner comes as part and parcel of that relationship package.

It may seem trite, but if you can admit to yourself what is important to you, you have a much better chance of finding that partner that will possess all the things you need and will be fair in the love portion of your relationship as well as the war portion. Dialogue is crucial to a successful relationship.  That dialogue may be saturated with verbosity destined for a soap opera or it may be immersed in a battle fit for Judge Judy.  Regardless of the definition that banter needs to be suited to what you need in your life or it will never succeed as a relationship.

When you consider a potential partner, you need to assess what parts of love and what parts of war you require to make you content with that alliance. If you need that person to challenge your opinions, than find someone who will thrive on that debating process.  If you need to be supported and not challenged, than find a lover who will never second guess your intentions.  Ultimately you choose the person that is privileged enough to share your life.  Pick the piece that fits your puzzle.

What are the most important qualities you would put on your list?

I’m sure the water is fine – Trifecta Challenge

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I’ve never been afraid of the water.  But perhaps after spending five years trying to calm the waves in my marriage I have been left with the slightest hesitation about diving back in.  Divorce can feel like a Tsunami, like the calm before the storm.  There is a sense of peace and strange tranquility and then the rush of emotion comes like a tidal wave engulfing everything in its path. And like the Tsunami, you know that wave is coming but it’s nearly impossible to get to a safe haven.

tsunami

(image courtesy of Google)

The dating pool, although seemingly non-threatening compared to the violent storm waves, beckons and standing on the edge of that pool is just as daunting as watching that tide surge forward.  The water may seem calm on the surface but the hidden dangers lie beneath that placid sheen and the potential for another storm gives me pause.  The slightest touch of the surface causes ripples and pushes me back from the edge of the pool.

I watch as the ripples dissipate.  The soft blue glow seems so inviting, but the dormant threat still lurks under the veil waiting to lure me closer to the edge, waiting to gently touch my skin and pull me under when I am blissfully unaware of the current below.  I can’t swim, not now.  Maybe sometime soon I will remember how wonderful it felt to float in that water, how comforting it was to be surrounded by its warmth and to feel buoyant.  Maybe soon, but not now.

I’m sure the water is fine, but I don’t think I’m ready yet to hold my breath and jump.  For now I’m content to sit on the edge of the pool and exhaust every argument in my head as to why I shouldn’t just take the plunge.

~

This was written for the Trifecta Challenge:
EXHAUST (transitive verb)
1a : to consume entirely : use up <exhausted our funds in a week>
b : to tire extremely or completely <exhausted by overwork>
c : to deprive of a valuable quality or constituent <exhaust a photographic developer>
2a : to draw off or let out completely
b : to empty by drawing off the contents; specifically : to create a vacuum in
3a : to consider or discuss (a subject) thoroughly or completely  

Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone.  Please join us.

Draped in his fabric

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Another post for Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday

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he covers me like a blanket

he wraps around my heart

as much as I pull and stretch his fabric

it never falls apart

he drapes over my shoulders

shielding me with his presence

warming every part of my being

comforting me with his essence

I fall into his softness

I feel safety in his shroud

I feel the heat beginning to burn

my murmurs breathed aloud

his touch rubs gently on my skin

every time is like the first

his voice falls like music on my ears

his groan a staccato burst

we lay together, wrapped again

his arms provide the veil

keeping me warm, keeping me safe

his blanket will never fail

 

Love Actually ~ Valentine edition

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There seems to be a common theme throughout the blogosphere surrounding the celebration of Valentine’s Day.  And until I re-read my thoughts and deleted the 500 +  words I had written on the subject of the commercialism of the day I would have written an entire post about the monetary veil that looms over this auspicious holiday.  But something changed.  The words I had composed left a bitter taste in my mouth and what I had written felt inappropriate in relation to the manifestation of my tumultuous emotions.

heart

(image courtesy of Google)

Don’t get me wrong…..I don’t hate Valentine’s Day. I, like so many of you, don’t believe in the hype of all the industry propagation that surrounds it.  Candy manufacturers and card makers jump at the chance to cover their windows with hearts and arrows to remind people to spend, spend, spend for their loved ones and money is discarded on items littered with hearts and oozing with sentiment written by the prolific writing staff at Hallmark.

In a moment of what can only be described as lucidity, I realized that there are many people walking the face of this planet who are unable to show their emotion as easily as I do.  There are many who do not feel as comfortable with the phrase ‘I love you’ and cannot utter it as often as they feel it is deserved and wanted.  In that moment, I understood that Valentine’s Day may be the one day that they can express their love through cards and flowers.  They are able to show the love they feel on a daily basis but are unable to articulate as often as they would like.  After years of being disgusted by the store displays enticing people to spend money, I got it.   Maybe the cards and candy hearts are the only way some can divulge their feelings without suffering the spontaneous embarrassment or discomfort of uttering those three words aloud.  Because I feel so comfortable sharing the emotion I have, it never dawned on me that others do not share that luxury and perhaps this day is their moment to shine.

Many people I know are far more fortunate and have displays of love bestowed on them quite frequently.  Ironically, Valentine’s Day is hijacked by those fortunate souls and held hostage with threats if they are not bathed in ornate displays of store-bought compensation.  They reside on a pedestal, but still hold their partner accountable for lavish gifts and dinner, negating the fact that they see more affection in a year than others are only privy to on a day that comes once a year.

I was watching Anderson Cooper last night and his co-host told a story that brought me to tears.  She read on the internet about a woman from Houston, TX who had been married for 46 years had always received a bouquet of flowers from her husband with a card that simply read “My love for you grows”.  Her husband passed  away and the following Valentine’s Day, the first one she would spend alone, she received a bouquet of flowers.  She was angry at first and called the florist to ask about the delivery and was told her husband had prepaid for that same bouquet to be delivered on Valentine’s Day for several years to come.  When she opened the card it read “My love for you is eternal”.  (yes, I’m crying)

Maybe I’m getting older, maybe I’m getting wiser or perhaps I had that moment where the lightbulb finally shone brighter than it ever has in regards to Valentine’s Day.  Whatever the case may be, these words from Henry David Thoreau ring true today ~ It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.

Happy Valentine’s Day to all of the people in my life.  Whether in person or in words, you all inspire me.

A Piece of Her Heart

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Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday always seems to bring out the poet in me.

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The heat of his touch sent shivers as he traced the curve of her spine.

The lasting sensation of the tingling desire,  never would leave her mind.

The softness of his lips on hers, the warm sweet smell of his breath,

the longing look in his deep blue eyes, the sensual feel of his caress.

He moves with her in a rhythm like the waves upon the sea,

seeming to be one, and yet, what one can never be.

He explores her soul, for which it seems, is paired with his alone,

on a journey of erotic pleasures, to a destination unknown.

The intensity of his closeness, the gentle stroking of her skin,

she feels an energy like never before, releasing from within.

She is his tonight and his alone, for now, for tomorrow, for time.

The love they make, the tenderness they share, will forever be their bind.

As the sun awakens to extinguish the dark, she clings to the memory of the night,

the feeling of togetherness, the feelings they share, the feeling of being so right.

He is a part of her now, a piece of her heart, beating in time with her own,

he is the wind in her hair, the sun on her skin, her music of beautiful tone.

Never will she feel alone for he is living inside of her heart.

His gentle touch, his wink, his smile reassure her they never will part.

He just didn’t get it

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Each Romantic Monday I find my brain reflecting on past romances I have had in my life.  I fondly remember what was so beautiful about them, and I sadly recall the things that could have been so much better.

When I am in love, the object of my affection is well aware of my feelings.   I am very demonstrative with subtle touches and knowing looks, I am very generous with my words of love and support and I strive to achieve the element of surprise when it comes to giving little tokens to simply make that other person smile.

rose

For some reason, on my drive to work this morning I dredged up a past relationship that had been pronounced dead long before its time.  After many attempts to perform CPR on the lifeless romance, it flat-lined and I had to call it.  I walked away knowing I had done all I could to save it and scrubbed my hands of the regret.

But that premature death still bothers me, because he just didn’t get it.   I would leave cards or poems on his dashboard just to make him smile.  What I thought was keeping us close, inevitably drove a wedge between us and the diseased cells began to form.  He was unable to appreciate the gifts I gave because they made him feel guilty for not buying me gifts or leaving cards where I would find them hours later.  What he failed to realize, is the only thing I wanted in return was his love.  I didn’t expect him to mirror my efforts, but I did expect him to understand that those displays and those gifts were me.  And if he couldn’t accept those, he couldn’t accept me.  Time of death – 8:00 pm on a Tuesday long ago.

I still visit the shallow grave of that romance on occasion.  I used to leave flowers on the tombstone, but I have since realized they will never be appreciated.

Spending the Night

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A poem written for Romantic Monday ~ thank you again, EH, for the inspiration.

As dusk envelops the clear blue sky, and stars begin to shine,

The pale moon glow and the black of night, give heed to the ebb of time.

A sense of urgency, a passionate kiss, lead inhibitions to take flight,

Our eyes are locked, I’m in your arms and I’m eager to spend the night.

 The lights grow dim, the air is electric, you take me by the hand,

Without a word I follow, mind and body understand.

My heart beats rapidly as I begin to feel your hot breath close to my ear,

My legs weaken, I fall to the bed, I draw you to be near.

Bodies intertwine under a blanket of heat and the dusk gives way to dark,

Passion churns and hunger flames, causing energies to spark.

The sense of desire, the animal need, the cries of pleasure and pain,

The intensity ends, we lay spent, I’m cloaked in your arms once again.

As I fall into sleep full of dreams and desire, I feel you close to my skin,

Your breathing is heavy, your mind is at rest, and a contented feeling is within.

The night quickly passes to the breaking of dawn and together we welcome the day,

I awake in your arms, to the warmth of your kiss, and it’s there I want to stay.

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Romantic Monday with a quiet passion

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A poem for Romantic Monday.  Thank you again Edward Hotspur for encouraging us to channel the romantic in all of us.

Under a Blue Moon

I fit my frail hand into his as we gazed upon the moon,

the beauty of its reflection, comforting like a warm wind in June.

As the pale moon light enveloped us, we stood as one, unmoving,

engaging in a silent vow of love that would never need proving.

The stars returned our glances, embracing a life of their own,

smiling upon us as a distant loon lent music of eloquent tone.

A blend of harmonious voices, echoed the cry of the loon,

as we stood fixed, ever enchanted by the intensity of the moon.

The night air swirled around us, laughing as it tickled the leaves.

The song of the frogs was found in the night and carried upon the breeze.

The rippling of the playful waves as their longing to touch the shore,

gave voices to the rhythm of sounds, sharing a tranquil rapport.

The magical songs in the blue moon light quieted ever so slightly,

as the glow of the moon and the array of stars ceased to shine so brightly.

His grip on my hand remained tender and sweet as he turned to look in my eyes.

A night of feelings shared by lovers under a blue moon and starry skies.

The promise of you

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Thank you Edward Hotspur – you have inspired me to think deeply and more often about romance.  Cheers to you.

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The Promise of You

I know you’re out there somewhere, searching for me as much as I’m searching for you.  You may already know me, but maybe we’ve never met.  You know that I’m sensitive, something that not many others know about me because I don’t like to feel vulnerable.  You appreciate my quick wit and you love the fact that I scream at the television during football games.  You value the fact that I’m more tomboy than girl and I can be ready to go in 20 minutes, from shower to door.  You smile at the thought of me choosing to spend too much money on a good bottle of wine rather than settle for a cheap imitation, and you know I practice the same theory in relationships.

Perhaps our paths have already crossed but the timing was off, or perhaps we’ve never been in the same space, but I know you too.  I know you’re smart and charming, you’re not too tall and your arms will hold me tight and make me feel protected.  I know you are funny and your face  lights up when you laugh.  And I know you have a bit of a bad-boy streak, but you grew out of most of it.  You still get that glint in your eye when you remember some of the things you got away with in those bad-boy days.

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Conceivably, you have met me but have not taken the time to realize I am everything you are looking for.  Perhaps we need to spend more time together, talking over drinks, laughing at the same jokes, looking into each other’s eyes and truly seeing each other and not just looking at each other.  Maybe when you look deep enough into my soul, you will see more than what simply meets the eye.  Maybe you’ve already seen it and are too afraid to say anything.  Maybe our friendship is of such great value to both of us, we are afraid to see what could lie beyond for fear of ruining the relationship we have now.  Perhaps our platonic romance is still gently fueling the fire that may evolve into a raging inferno.

Look at me again, but see me with different eyes.  Gaze deeply and see who I truly am beyond the perception of me.  Look at the cover, but open the book to see what the story is really about.  I’ll bet it has a great ending.