Don't Ask. Just Do It.

If I hear one more time, "why are you still single?", I may stab the poor soul with my pen. I will find a pen and kill the messenger. Dramatics roar too loud sometimes to starve. I want meaning. I want crazy, vibrator in route, passionate intimacy. All the time. I want an actual connection, mentally and physically. I won't settle. 

Trouble is, it's all good until you get too close. I feel it coming and my running shoes are laced up before my mind realizes what my hands have done. I've been a gypsy wanderer for so long I don't know how to be in the meaning. This is a problem. I'm aware. Long couches clothed in silence emptying savings wouldn't find themselves home without this quality. The crowd doesn't help. So how do you fix it. The connection has to be so powerful, the fix is worth it. A lightening bolt once spawn a prodigy. Validation.

Hurts like hell when the rarity happens and you discover freedom's grasp has crippled the possibility of love falling. We spend our entire lives trying to find something we can't define. Being something, someone, somebody we think someone, somewhere, somehow will love.

Whatever that is.

Complicated. It's always complicated. If only we all said what we meant the exact moment we felt it. Letting go and holding on would be a complications foe.

Love must be a verb some book, some other perplexed analytical type, not even grandmothers can define. Love is what you make. I tend to lean towards the side believing we'd all be a little happier if we made it daily. Well, for those conservative types.

Only you should ask the questions when they start to keep you up at night. Seek answers at your pace. It takes some of us practice to live both fast and slow, capturing the whole picture, the moments that lead to answers and definitions.  

Love and life is simply what you make. The goal is to discover our meaning to answer the voices in our heads. To learn what we want and challenge our fears to seek it. To create meaning in the things that simply make us happy. Wherever, however, with what we have, and hopefully with those whom show us our meaning of love.

Maybe that's where we all go wrong. Maybe that's why all the questions linger, cast out to others because its not easy. We're all living under the impression that love should just happen, just be. We shouldn't have to work at it, seek it, give it a chance. If it was easy to answer, we wouldn't ask the questions hoping, just maybe, someone will say something we wanted to hear.

So what do you do other than keep pretending you believe the independence is worth it for all the outsiders to idolize. The display worthy surety they wrap you in giving them the proof needed to live in a world where having your cake and eating it too exists. If I've learned anything at all, it's cake is bad for you. It looks pretty and tastes good, but if you let it disgust and analyze bite, by bite, the truth remains. Cake makes you fat and nobody likes to be fat.

We all learn something from everyone. Even if it's not what to do.