Tales Of Miss Scarlett

Archive for the tag “break-ups”

The Soulmate Quote

Soul mate.

Two little words, one big concept. A belief that someone, somewhere, is holding the key to your heart and your dream house. All you have to do is find them. So, where is this person? And if you love someone and it didn’t work out, does that mean they weren’t your soul mate? Were they just a runner-up contestant in this game show called “Happily Ever After”? And, as you move from age box to age box and the contestants get fewer and fewer, are your chances of finding your soul mate less and less?

Soul mates: reality or torture device?

sex and the city 

Let’s Play Pretend…

I used to think that the hardest thing a person had to do was pretend that they were  in love.

Then came the day I was told to pretend that I wasn’t.

by justmike

Fresh Start and Assurances

but then he said

Yes! I have a past. I’ve been in love, I’ve had fuck buddies, girlfriends and “I probably shouldn’t have done that” moments. I come with baggage. There is nothing I can do to change that. In fact, I’d be lying if I told you I regret it. But I can tell you this; I’m in love with you. I want you.  And even though I have history with these females, I’m committed to building a future with you. Let’s move forward together.

….and it made it all better.

The Unbalanced Epilogue

“NO!”

“Don’t come any closer. Please!”

“It took me forever to get OK and just seeing you now…

if you give me one of your hugs, i’ll never get over it so SERIOUSLY!

Don’t come any closer.”

“Stop!”

“What are you looking at?”

“You’ve already seen everything.

You don’t seem to get that I already showed you the best of me.

I was the best version of my self with you.

I was funnier, I was smarter,I swear I was even more beautiful with you,

shiiit! I was even better at sex with you.

I was more vulnerable. 

And still my best was not enough for you to love so…”

“What are you looking at.”

“What do I want?”

“Atlanta is a small city so lets do each other a favor.

If you ever see me, just look, nod and maybe smile at me from your life. And i’ll do the same from mine

But please….”

“Don’t come any closer. Please?”

“It took me forever to get OK and just seeing you…”

Just give me till then to give up this fight

I Can’t Make You Love Me

Turn down the lights, turn down the bed
Turn down these voices inside my head 
Lay down with me, tell me no lies
Just hold me close, don’t patronize – don’t patronize me

Cause I can’t make you love me if you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t 
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power
But you won’t, no you won’t
‘Cause I can’t make you love me, if you don’t

I’ll close my eyes, then I won’t see 
The love you don’t feel when you’re holding me 
Morning will come and I’ll do what’s right
Just give me till then to give up this fight
And I will give up this fight

Cause I can’t make you love me if you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t
Here in the dark, in these lonely hours 
I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power
But you won’t, no you won’t
‘Cause I can’t make you love me, if you don’t

by  Michael Reid and Allen Shamblin

Infatuation’s Final Destination

Ever so often you see yourself in a piece of literature.

Sometimes what you find staring back at you…isn’t all pleasant!

“I was suffering the easily foreseeable consequences. Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted-an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement.

Soon you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is witheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore– despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have ‘that thing’ even one more time.

Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you’re someone he’s never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You’re a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes.

So that’s it. You have now reached infatuation’s final destination– the complete and merciless devaluation of self.” page 20 – Eat, Pray, Love

Hindsight in the Morning

In the wee hours of the morning, I got a text message from one of my ex.

It was full of his hopes:

He hoped I did not hate him.

He hoped we could one day be friends

I was polite and I was nice.

I relieved him of his guilt.

I assured him”It was all good”

I did what ‘cool’ chicks do.

And what I did was wrong.

 

Too many texts from too many exes.

They have regrets and  bags of “I’m sorry”

But an apology in hindsight, doesn’t make it alright.

Doing what he should have done, when he was ACTUALLY my man

Would have been better than

A late night text message full of his hopes:

He hopes I do not hate him.

He hopes we can one day be friends.

Confessions of an Unrequited Lover

He wasn’t the one because he never understood me. He never understood my sarcasm. He never understood that while my words are honest and straightforward, they aren’t the end all or be all of what I am saying. He never understood that he had to look deeper to understand that behind every word is just a young woman with good heart trying to find another soul that gets her. He never understood that to truly get me, is to first admit that I am a hard person to understand.

He wasn’t the one because I never found him funny. His jokes fell flat and his storytelling was atrocious. There was never a guarantee that he would lighten the mood. The twinging of his lips, the raising of his eyebrows was never enough to send my head back, hands being clapped, mouth open but no sound coming out because everyone knows that’s how I laugh when I find something truly funny. I doubt he found me particularly funny either.

He wasn’t the one because I always had to be smiling. Not every grin is a smile and that is not the only way I convey happiness.  When my smile has subsided and my voice goes too soft, i’m not hurt nor am I sad. It just means i’m relaxed enough to exist and not be concerned about keeping up appearances. It means I think the interview has stopped and that silence can be comfortable.

He wasn’t the one because his lips didn’t make my world spin. His lips were forgettable. His lips were too small, too dry and left no impression. His kisses just left me thinking about the last lips that I bit and pulled. He had too much passion and I had too little. His lips just weren’t right.

He wasn’t the one because I could never sleep like a baby next to him. He never had the ability to calm my spirit, settle my mind and make me so relaxed that I could drift off into dreamland as easy as 1-2-3. Falling asleep next to him..or even better on his chest was not  a desire that I had and the thought of  waking up in his arms didn’t make my heart smile.

He wasn’t the one because simply my dear…he wasn’t you.

I’m always going to be in LOVE with him aren’t I?

Post Navigation