Too Hot & Heavy.

There is no such thing as the right person at the wrong time. I hear this every day, more if I'm lucky enough to be in the company of those who care deeply for my future love or next episode anyway.

All my life, well since I started chasing boys around the play-groud... I was married at 7 but that's another blog entirely.... I've been an addict yearning for her cozy alone time. An old soul many dubbed my seemingly perfected balance of intro and extro -vertedness. This balance obtained through sheer force and too many naked audiences even this new-found emotion expressing me is comfortable to name.

One of the hardest thoughts to entertain and accept is 

discovering you are to blame and choosing to own it.

I can't help but now think of this as some kind of subconscious test. I will never be the girl to satisfy loneliness by filling up a day planner, with retail therapy weekends, free prime rib or countless blanket stealer tug of war.  Then again, I don't actually own a day planner and please, save the beef. If I spend time with you, you matter. This I solely am referring to as the hopeless romantic who has been obnoxiously screaming over the angelic voices in my head these days. A test. Must be.

You can't give yourself to another in body and expect their mind to meditate in your direction. Do they know the beauty beneath. It was Shakespeare who left us with thoughts of only giving your body to someone after you've given them your soul. It's easier to judge sir.

Lust dies, love is immortal. Maybe its women who suffer from this the most. We think, excuse the box, if we have sex with the object of our affection, love will magically articulate. You can't turn a booty call into a black tie affair.
 
In the end, as the sun sets, happy hour floods the streets and the security of comfort chills, I know deep down it wouldn't work. Or is that another mechanism to keep my lying here wrapped in an I'm ok fantasy waiting for some storybook love affair with all the super heroes to deal with all the scattered pieces. Saying I even have sorrows makes my eye twitch.
I've also been told to not love when your lonely, but only after you love yourself enough to be ready. Well, I say to this little nugget of advice, how the hell do you know the difference.

Don't jump in too fast or be the first to say those words. Don't call too often or seem so available. And for heaven's sake, keep your clothes on. Who made these rules and do we really all follow them. The divorce rate IS over 50 percent.

I wanted him to tell me to stay. To tell me to stop. To tell me it would be worth it. All my distorted pictures could be filtered and he'd prefer the blurriness anyway. Isn't that what people do.

Have the courage to start a conversation that matters with all the emotional roller coaster riding your mind can take. That's when your heart kicks in. We all have the ups and downs, but no two hearts feel the same. Hell, we can't even out to words what the damn red thing is saying. I have so many versions of how I feel throughout the day even with a happy soul. I will always choose happiness. This fault cripples vulnerability with its chance of hole in your heart cascading tears. Even happy souls shed tears. Let them see you, be real and if it's the love your ready for....cough...it be always be the right time.