My Last Day …

Have been having a terribly long stint of insomnia lately but I have been resting, laying in bed listening to music and prone dancing – yes just made that up.

Heard this beautiful song last in the wee hours of today.  The English lyrics have been translated below – but as most of us know, direct translation never captures the same meaning.  It’s a beautifully stirring song.

As if it were my last day,
I’m going to live with a sincere love
And show those close to me how much I love them.

As if it were my last day,
I’m going to fight for my dreams,
Living without fear and treasuring every minute.
I’m not going to wait until tomorrow because all I have is the present.

If there wasn’t much time, I would stay and take a moment
To show you that I love you and that I am fully content that I have you.
And if your joy depended on me, I would give everything I can to you to make this day the best day in our life.

If this was my last chance to look at you again,
I would make this moment the most important in your memory,
Because in the times of difficulty and stress of this life, we miss the details we later wish we could remember.
And then regret that we’ve forgotten these experiences, and mourn that we cannot recreate them.

If there wasn’t much time, I would stay and take a moment
To show you that I love you and that I am fully content that I have you.
And if your joy depended on me, I would give everything I can to you,
And make this day the best day in our life.

I would enjoy all that God has given me
friends, family and love,
and I’ll make this day the best of my life.


Romantic Gestures … Chivalry is Not Dead!

Now that summer is winding down and my J months of dating are behind me, I can share my notes on what I have learned from my dating experiences the past couple of months.

I have learned that chivalry is not completely dead.  Thank goodness.  I believe I am finally meeting the right people.  I was raised by very traditional parents.  My Dad did everything for my Mom and his four daughters; and my brother was raised to protect us as well, even though he was younger than us – his sisters.

Being the youngest girl and sickly as a child, made my Dad and brother extra protective of me. They wouldn’t let me do much, nor carry anything.  I was exempt from most chores.  I guess that is why I became a voracious reader and enjoy writing.  But I digress.

One thing I grew up loving, was when my Dad and brother always walked closest to the curb, ensuring I was protected from any oncoming traffic, or splashes from cars hitting puddles.   I’ve known men who religiously obey this unwritten rule and those that don’t even know it exists.  Happily, lucky for me, lately, I have met men who are still old-fashioned, chivalrous and true gentlemen.

I have enjoyed the past few weeks.  I have had men open doors for me, carry my bags, hold the umbrella in the rain, take my hand to help me out of the car, give me their jacket as the sun went down, stand as I entered the room, promptly on time, and ensured I arrived home and upstairs safely.  It was refreshing.

I understand that we live in a society where women are fighting to be treated equally and are fiercely independent.  And many of the traditionally gentlemanly acts are lost to so many.  I have heard some women call men sexist for holding doors and even offering seats to them.  Not me.  Sadly, I think many young men are a product of today’s society and many may think they are damned if they do, damned if they don’t.  They don’t want to be considered weak nor whipped.

Yes, women are totally capable of opening their own door. We are also capable of opening a door for a guy. It’s the kind thing to do for others.   I have held the door open for many a people, regardless of their gender.  I have offered my seat to all sorts of people – pregnant women, elderly people, people with many bags, or small children.  When an opportunity arises to encourage, promote, and kindly accept chivalry, why not take it?  Let’s allow more kindness in our lives.  I will continue to allow the men in my life to be slightly old-fashioned, manly and chivalrous while I graciously respond to their actions.

I enjoy my femininity and prefer a masculine man.  I don’t think I am weak nor helpless.  I do like when men make me feel valuable and worthy of respect.  I truly believe that it’s the small things that count in any relationship. Displaying good manners will always earn extra points with me.  I encourage and appreciate male chivalry.  These little things are romantic and sweet gestures as well to me.

When a man walks around me, so he could position himself to be on the outside, closest to the street and curb, makes me smile.  I think it’s cute and somehow shows me he can be reliable.  And I just know that my Dad and brother are smiling down on me from Heaven when I find a man to make me feel as protected as they did.  I am truly thankful for the care and strength that the men in my life have shown me. I am blessed.

And if someone opens a door for me, offers me their seat, or any other chivalrous gesture – I will always smile and politely say, “thank you” … with a twinkle in my eye, grace in my step and hope in my heart.

 

 


Demons …

This song still speaks to me.  We all have some sort of demons inside us. We all fight them, some daily.  We don’t always succeed in defeating them, but we try just the same. Who isn’t waging some internal battle?!  Demons … ‘Unless you show me how’ …

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold

When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood’s run stale

I wanna hide the truth
I wanna shelter you
But with the beast inside
There’s nowhere we can hide

No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

At the curtain’s call
It’s the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl

So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made

Don’t wanna let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don’t wanna hide the truth

No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

They say it’s what you make
I say it’s up to fate
It’s woven in my soul
I need to let you go

Your eyes, they shine so bright
I wanna save that light
I can’t escape this now
Unless you show me how

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide


Worlds Apart But Always In My Heart …

The heatwave has me more drained than usual.  The only thing lingering these days is this oppressive heat.  Watching movies on one of my favorite channels and heard this beautifully stirring song playing during one of the sweetest kisses on TV.

I love the voice, the words … lyrics resonate with me … hold me in your heart …

You’ve been lying awake all night
Your head’s been running around, it won’t stop
But it’s a wonderful light
I wish you could only see the things you’ve got
You’d see it’s all right

Hold me close
I’ll be there soon
Hold me in your heart
Hold me close, like I’m the sun to your moon
Though we were apart
Though we are worlds apart

So when you leave the sun for the snow
Crossing ocean tides
Know you will be safe there at home
Rest now, close your eyes

Hold me close, and I’ll be there soon
Hold me in your heart
Hold me close, like I’m the sun to your moon
Though we were apart
Though we are worlds apart

I want you to dream in fields of flowers
And know that you’re not alone
Soon come morning hours
The sweetest winds will blow

If you hold me close, I’ll be there soon
Hold me in your heart
Hold me close, like I’m the sun to your moon
Though we were apart
Though we are worlds apart
Though we are worlds apart


The sociopath will always accuse YOU of what they are guilty of themself

Time to get away from all manipulative, lying people who try to rob me of my energy, my compassion, and forgiving nature.

Dating a Sociopath

Did you feel like you were going crazy? You were losing your mind? This is all part of the sociopath’s crazy making behaviour.

Image

The sociopath will always accuse you of doing the very thing that they are guilty of themselves. They do this to deflect the attention from them.

Examples of this are

  • Accusing you of cheating
  • Accusing you of being dishonest or lying
  • Accusing you of talking about them
  • Accusing you of doing whatever it is that they are guilty of themselves

The sociopath has a bizarre ability to be able to make YOU feel guilty and feel like you have defend yourself… for things that he has done.

You see the sociopath, is actually fairly intelligent. He knows that whilst you are busy defending yourself, and proving your innocence, you will be confused, and will forget about the real issue, the truth that you are close to uncovering…

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Size Matters …

Most of my life, I have only been attracted to tall men.  Yes, I know – what woman isn’t?! But for some reason – just today, I swear today as I find myself yet alone this gorgeous weather weekend and watching how my step Dad treats my Mom after 35 years of marriage, I truly admit to myself I do not want to be alone.  Being alone in the hospital, being alone in bed, being alone in line, always alone is not how I want to live my life anymore.  Sure I am okay alone, but who wants to be just okay??

It also dawned on me, after having an hour long conversation with a nice, shorter man that I have been guilty of perpetuating the stupid stereotypes that pervade our society and way of thinking for far way too long.  Being obsessed with height — in a way that I would never obsess about any one of their other qualities — has been bad for me, bad for my dating experiences, and reinforces a society that says physical traits we can’t control are more important than who we really are.  If I want to truly find someone willing to accept and love me -warts and all – then I need to do the same … somehow.

Height was always one of those inane deal breakers, for me.  I never minded what a man did to earn a living, as long as he was hard working, honest, dependable, stable.  I never minded what kind of car a man drove.  I never expected a man to buy me jewelry or take me to expensive places.  It never mattered to me what religion a man was as long as he was spiritual, caring, kind, thoughtful, empathetic.

But that towering look, that false sense of security I would have walking next to a tall man  – is just that – false.  I get it.  I was surrounded by tall men growing up – at my 5’2″ that is an easy thing to accomplish.  My grandfather, my Dad, my brother, my favorite male cousins all were 6 feet or taller.  They made me feel safe, so I equated that with their height.  I need to rethink this.  Sure, I thought I was most attractive when I look itty bitty compared to my male partner.  But really, should this matter?  How superficial is this really coming across?

I need to re-evaluate my thoughts on the ideal man – for me, myself.  I truly want someone who is confident, a man who is secure in his own skin (and height), who shows they can handle unfamiliar people or situations.  A man who actually listens – hears what I am saying, takes the time to understand me, and makes time for me.  A generous man would be ideal – and I don’t mean springing for dinner at a four-star restaurant – I crave his willingness to give his time and lend an ear and a helping hand or two.

I have learned that I want a man who is intelligent – and I don’t mean he needs to have a degree or two, or MD after his name – want a worldly, interesting man – a take-charge type; a problem solver, a man who is always trying to learn; improve, means to me, never boring.  Intelligence is sexy!  I need to know they are passionate about things. When a man, heck a person for that matter, is passionate about something, anything – their face lights up – it’s proof that they care for and about something beyond themselves.  That is contagious. It’s inspiring to me and lets me know that he is living a life he loves.  Oh who doesn’t need a sense of humor?!  Being able to laugh at the stresses of this world is a must.  My life is harsh reality at best – so I truly need to let my hair down and just cry laughing.

Yes, so many real tangible qualities I am looking for in a man – his height should not be the deal breaker.  I am going to recite this to myself each and every day.

I know what I want, deserve – now I just have to find some time and make a real effort in finding it.  I want that hand holding, caress of the face, sit next to each other watching TV kind of life … in search of my lobster … with grace in my step and hope in my heart …

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The Peace of Wall Street

My brief time working on Wall Street again is coming to an end … bittersweet end.  It has been an awakening time for me … accepting and new found peace time for me.  I still have a strong connection to this place.  I have turned down a few jobs through the years to work in this financial downtown area because I just couldn’t bear to go through the World Trade Center and pass the site where my forever heart perished so many years ago.  This past year, I have grown to accept my life in ways that no one can understand – ways that I can barely articulate..  I still ache each time I pass through the WTC, but pain and nostalgia no longer paralyze me.  Sure it overwhelms me at times, but I keep moving forward.  I try to focus on all the good memories and new memories of being downtown, the familiar and the unknown.

I met someone briefly that allowed me to open my eyes to so many possibilities.   There are so many beautiful things in the world to explore, experience, relish and I plan to do just that.

I am going to miss being able to walk down to the South Street Seaport and just look out into the calm waters and let my thoughts drift.  I am going to miss the soft jazz music that can be heard every morning outside my work building.  I may even miss all the tourists and school groups that come this way….ah maybe not.   I will miss Brookfield Place and all the fun things that take place in the area, especially the Lowdown Hudson Music Fest!

I won’t miss the 9/11 Memorial.

I will miss the hand that held mine recently on a few walks around this area.  I wonder if he will ever know the profound effect he had on my life in such a short time …  and although he may never know, I will forever know.  The way he would apply a little pressure when holding my hand, calmed me and made some of anxiety melt away, especially when he squeezed the area between my thumb and my forefinger.

The way he evoked so many memories for me … maybe wasn’t fair to him; but priceless to me.  I knew Michael, my forever heart, was trying to still tell me something even if I wasn’t ready to fully understand all at the time.  Comforting.

I am moving forward … with grace in my step and hope in my heart …

 

 

 

 


Rose Colored Glasses Broken

Well those lingering thoughts I encouraged, wanted – all dissipated truly fast when my Iceland trekking ‘friend’ returned.  All the pretty words turned into false actions and harsh words.  But at the end of it all, after the tears I shed, I am okay.  I know my worth, know what I want, and what I deserve.

Lately, I was feeling in control of my life, despite ups and downs with my every day health leading to some issues at work, but over all I was waking up happy, going to bed exhausted from accomplishing things.  Then I let my guard down, I met someone tall, dark haired, handsome, funny … He appeared great on paper, even loved his family, was close to them, had a long standing job – I let myself go.  I fantasized, I went way out of my comfort level only to learn I don’t want a pot-smoking man in his 50s, who runs away at the first hint of conflict, and who may or may not still be in love with his ex-wife.  I spent the past few days sad, hurt, stung by his harsh words only to realize that I assisted in the demise of the fantasy.  I tested him when I should have just let it go.  I pushed, when I should have just let it go.  I wanted another chance to make it work, to see where it could go, when I should have just let it go.

Learning that I am getting better at seeing people clearly, so as to not waste my time too much.  But even when I knew he wasn’t for me, I tried because when he took my hand those few times, I felt something I haven’t felt in years.  It felt right.  I tried to base a relationship on that.  Yes.  Insanity at its best.  I clearly see that now.  I thought it was something not to be ignored.  But chemistry doesn’t make a relationship.  I logically get this.

Well I finally took my rose colored glasses off, broke them, threw them forever away.  When the very man you thought you were falling for, curses at you, something breaks, and it wasn’t my heart this time, it was expectations.  I tend to expect people to be nice, solely because I am trying so hard to be civil, to be forgiving, to be nice.  Well I no longer want to be the doormat.   I no longer want to be so forgiving, accepting.  That famous adage, “If you can’t change the circumstances, change your perspective” – could not ring any more true this weekend.  

In a relationship, you cannot be the puppeteer. People have their own emotions, behaviors, actions, beliefs, scars, wounds, fears, dreams, and perspectives. They are their own person.  As I am. I so wanted this relationship to be something that it could never be.

When  I meet people, there are certain expectations, like being treated well or being respected. Yet sometimes we find ourselves in relationships that don’t mirror what we anticipate to happen. We may feel hurt or used.  That was where I found myself this past week going into this weekend.

We cannot expect other people to treat us as we would treat them. We cannot assume anything or force change upon someone who clearly demonstrates he or she is stuck in his or her own way.  When someone is incapable of listening, hearing, understanding what I was trying to convey, share, and only managed to twist all into their way of thinking, rejecting me along the way, sure it was hard, but liberating at the same time.  Lessons learned the very hard way…again.  When this man got mad, he was no longer attractive to me.  I felt such a sadness.  I could do nothing but cry.  I think it wasn’t just for my dashed hopes but for him as well,  I could sense a pain in him that I would never reach.  I wanted to hug him and make it all better.  But I can’t keep trying to fix broken people, when I am still broken myself.  I am fully aware of this.  When he cruelly often used the phrase, “sounds like a personal problem” well it was … sadly. 

I am always so afraid of closing off my heart to new things, experiences, people for fear of being let down, disappointed again.  But as I write this, my heart is wide open.  With eyes full of clarity, I am capable of changing the relationships in my life by adjusting my point of view.  Tired of being disappointed.  I have to constantly reevaluate and adjust my expectations.  I can’t assume that people will respond to things as I would; I can’t assume that one will care like I do; just as I can’t assume one thinks in a similar way as I do.

I was living in a brief fantasy land of my hopes, dreams, ideas, beliefs, expectations, and assumptions.  And I was hurting myself most.  Learning how to protect myself more, needing to change my perception from what I hope would happen to being more open to experiences for whatever may actually happen.  It’s hard.  But I know I need to let go of my expectations … with grace in my step, hope in my heart … no more rose colored glasses!


Linger …

Today …  a very new friend of mine is traveling from NYC to Iceland for 14 days and I find myself obsessed with the very thought of him lingering in my mind, in my thoughts, in my random smile.  As I write, think on this, I hear the song, “Linger” by the Cranberries. Signs are everywhere, if you keep your mind and heart open to them.

I always tend to attempt dating each and every summer … and those months starting with the letter J!  Being June already is no different.  What is different is actually believing this may be a real possibility of me finding myself again, of falling in love – that I won’t get bored, distracted, jaded, disillusioned, overwhelmed.  I won’t make excuses, and go back into hibernation.  I am nearing the end of my 40s and I don’t plan on being alone.  I owe it to myself, and to my Michael’s forever love for me to keep moving forward, accepting love, and no more settling.

We all wish to be wanted, desired – I can easily admit that I need it.
We all want to be understood –  I will no longer settle for less.

I have had so many people I love die way too young.  I want to live with purpose, live more fully for them as well as for myself.  Life moves too fast.  In a blink, you can have it all and lose it all as quickly.

This week, I find myself more alive, carefree.  Wanting … wanting not to be alone.

Longing to be held by strong arms. Feel my fingers entwined with another’s.

Living to anticipate a kiss that takes my breath away …  again.
Looking forward to staying awake until the sun rises.

I want to slow down and listen, breathe it all in.

I want to stare into his eyes, get lost in reliving the moments.

I want to be free to be me around him.
I will sit quietly and wonder if he dares to let our lips linger without fully kissing, breathing me in and holding me tight.

I wish time could stop … I wish I could stop time –  so we can linger.
An honest life is made of moments of both good and bad – I fully understand this.  But right this minute, this instance, this small moment in time, I want my conversations with him to linger … and when I sigh, I want him to sigh.

Is this all too much to wish upon? No – already our conversation linger on my lips …  as always with grace in my step, hope in my heart, smile on my lips …

 

 

 


In Memory of Me …

I have just not been able to write as much as I would prefer lately.  So many thoughts, words, complete sentences in my head … but having a hard time expressing myself without crying at times.  Been so busy building walls so others can no longer hurt me, that I just can’t express myself in the only real way I know.   Sinking into depression … I know I am but I am not sure what I can do differently, right now. I feel lost, alone, insecure, idle, forgotten, bored … Emotional flu … yes that is what I have, lately.  Tired of feeling – especially sorry for myself.  So it’s taken me awhile to write this post.  Sometimes my hurt overwhelms me.

Anyone who really takes the time to know me, understand my life – they would know I have never had a good relationship with my mother and her daughters.  My sister is having knee surgery and will be staying with my Mom, so whenever any one of my sisters visit, even for a few hours every few months, my mother tends to be even more cruel to me.  For some reason, this past Friday we were talking about someone we knew and how they died with no family.  My mother then proceeded to tell me that I should save money to make sure I can pay for my own burial since no one would help once I die and I shouldn’t think to burden anyone.  Now I know deep in my heart that my family couldn’t care less if I lived or died.  I have known this far too long.  And sadly, yet obviously prudently, I already took measures for my burial many years ago after my first bout of cancer.  I reassured my Mom very calmly that I already took care of things for when I die.  Then I just went upstairs to my safe place, my own apartment, and just cried for hours.  My mother will never know how much she has hurt me, how much her words hurt me.  Just when I think she can’t hurt me anymore, I learn that it’s just never going to stop.  My skin just isn’t thick enough sometimes.  My heart breaks a little more each day when I am around her.  I try so hard … try not to let her words bury me alive.

So many hours I find myself too weak, too sad to do much of anything which only makes me sadder. I try.  I am in pure survival mode.  Don’t need to be saved. I need to be found and appreciated for exactly who I am.  I need others for my voice right now.

Quotes that speak to me, for me …

“Sensitive suffer more, but they love more and dream more.”  – Augusto Cury

“A sensitive soul sees the world through the lens of love.” – Unknown

“Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness.” ― Katherine Henson

“You soak up others’ moods and desires like a sponge. You absorb sensation the way a paintbrush grasps each color it touches on a palette. The ethereal beauty of a dandelion, the shift of a season, the climax of a song, or a certain stirring scent can awaken such wonder they’ll become your very breath itself – moving through you as fuel does to fire and wind does to waves. ~ Victoria Erickson

I have to keep reminding myself to love myself first and foremost … I have been on my own longer than I have ever been with anyone, loner by nature, alone by choice.

I’m here – I’m a survivor – and you can, too!  Everyone has to deal with their own situation, but my method is ‘distraction’.  My pain, worry leads me to writing.  Peace, acceptance, quiet, serenity, empowerment … keep loving myself.  Keep striving to have a decent life.  I have to remember who I am – that is how I will get through this life … with grace in my step and hope in my heart.


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