Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
| Blogs > SakuraMar > SAKURA JUST SAYING AND STUFF |
Please Don't Stomp On Me
|
Please Don't Stomp On Me I'm probably going to to get slammed really bad for posting this. Maybe be called a liar, a , an exaggerater or a very sick crazy delusional woman. I'm going to be prepared for all that. But I recently chatted with someone who told me that it doesn't exist. While I understand that this doesn't exist for them and I understand that it doesn't exist for everyone... Well I just want to say that it can exist. So, at my mid 20s I was very bitter and cynical. I had the nickname Ice Queen. I never cried. I didn't even tear up at sad, loving, emotional filled, family or romantic movies. I was just amused. I didn't believe in love. I hated holding hands, cuddling and anything too intimate. I liked guys. I liked sex with guys. I was free, fiercely independent, spicy, bold, vivacious, and I lived such a full and happy life loving my work. I could have lived the rest of my life that way and considered myself lucky and fulfilled. Love and romance were only in fairytales and to suckers movies, bad books and music. Real women, strong women didn't need love. That was my thought. You use a guy for sex and company. Your friends were there for the good stuff. At the end of the day nobody is hurt and having MIDD melt downs(refer to the blog SakuraMar's Dictionary For The Cool & Perverted) . And there is no need to play sappy music and cry. That thought was for my life though. I didn't tell anyone else that their love was or what they had wasn't real. I respectfully kept my opinions on love and romance to myself. All of this changed in the course of one fateful night. I remember every detail of that night so clearly. The night was warm and balmy. A wispy breeze was blowing the scent of hibiscus and Plumeria in the air. I was leaning on a concrete pillar in the dorms. The room door was open and music was pumped up, my friend inside was doing her hair and makeup. I was looking up at the night sky. There were a few opaque clouds and the moon was not full. I was listening to the music compete with my friend. She was talking over the music, Country music. I was holding a bottle of hard cider and sipping on it. Now this next part is going to sound like total bullshit. This next part is going to sound exaggerated or like a lie or crazy delusion. I understand because I was one of those people. I was a nay sayer about love and romance. You might even go watching movies and reading books, just to find out where I got it. But, this is my life. I felt a prickle on the back of my neck. When I looked up, I saw this tall lanky shadow. He stopped in front another dorm room, but then he slowly turned and started in my direction. My friend threw out a question at me and I looked at her and yelled over the music to answer. When I snapped my head back, he emerged from the shadows and became the one. I swear to God that I don't know how. No matter how many times I have gone over it, it's always been the same. Time seemed to slow down to a stop. I could no longer hear the music. I no longer felt the bottle in my hand. I don't even remember breathing and my heart felt like it was transmitting the beating sound on drums my ears. My mouth went dry. Both the light of the moon and the bright light from my friends big picture window was illuminating him bit bit. Even as the moment was happening, my brain was screaming at me to memorize every detail and my soul was murmuring that this was it, this was the one. All I could do was lean against the concrete, which a moment earlier was cold, and watch. Everything burned into my memory forever. First his short hair, trimmed close on the sides. But, the top was full and fighting with unruly thick waves and a few curls. A shimmering mix of gold and cornsilk blonde. His skin a dark dusky peach. He was sleek and graceful. His every move was like a natural athletic sleepy dance. He had a long slender vulnerable looking neck. Big broad shoulders underneath a slightly wrinkled, very old white t-shirt with a faded emblem on it. It draped softly over his flat stomach and cut off at his hips. He was also wearing very old, very warn, very wrinkly khaki cargo shorts. Athletic Legs that stretched for miles ending in sandals. It might of took him 2 minutes to walk up to me. But it felt slow motion. Like instead it was 2 hours. My mind was silently telling him to keep walking. To move on and never look back. My heart was telling him to come to me and take me in his arms. I was truly dumbstruck. He stopped in front of me. That's when I could see the proud patrician nose, the cheekbones, the strong stubborn chin and sharp jawline. His eyes glittered like huge aquamarine jewels, outlined in thick dark brown curly lashes. His lips were full and rosy, with the bottom lip in the slightest pout. I really don't know how long we stood there staring at each other. Neither of us talking. He was looming in front of me, only 2 feet away. But if he leaned over degrees, our lips could have touched. I wanted him to lean over and looking into his eyes, they seemed to be struggling to obey my silent wish. Before I knew it, my friend was next to me yelling at us. Neither of us turned to look at her just yet. First he answered her question. Then I answered her question. It took a lot to finally tear my eyes off him to look at her. She had this confused look on her face. It was funny, so I laughed and then he laughed. She yelled at me again and punched him. Apparently he was a friend of hers. She asked him what he was doing, since he told her he was planning to stay in the dorms. He changed his mind and he went to go change. I couldn't believe it. Things went so fast after that. Our first dance was me teaching him to 2 step. Afterwards he literally swept me off my feet and carried me off the dance floor. Our first kiss was like magic. It wasn't us grinding and crawling over each other. My hands were captured in his hands at my back. But it was filled with such emotion that the bouncer had to separate us... Three times... I'm not going to tell you that he was perfect. Because he wasn't. I'm not going to say he never made me angry or drive me crazy. Because he did. We had lots of flaws. But our way was not to put up with flaws or think about changing them. Our thinking was to accept that we loved the person and therefore loved above the flaws. We didn't say I love you with words. We said I love you touching each other. We said I love you playing footsies. We said I love you our smiles. We said I love you looking deeply in each other's eyes. We said I love you when our bodies were tangled in passion. We said I love you so many times throughout our moments together. Just not those words. It wasn't just love of the heart. It wasn't only passion and love of the body. It was also love between minds who shared a strong curiosity to read and learn and discuss everything and anything about the world and beyond. It was a love between souls, where we could finish each other's sentences and feel each other's presence in a room without even looking up. We had arguments. We had bad days. We had doubts. We had insecurities. We would get frustrated and take time away. But we also had nights when he was so frightened, he would wake up if I went to the bathroom and he wouldn't calm down until both of us were wrapped around each other. We had plenty differences of opinion. We e talked about it rationally. Our life was normal. But, every really bad day together was better than any great day apart from each other. I wanted to be with him and he was my whole world. I loved him more than anything else, including my own life. So when he was taken away in death, my whole world ended. I couldn't go on. I almost lost my life. I know they say that time heals all wounds. They say that you move on and you can find a new love. They say the pain of losing someone lessens. I guess my heart and soul didn't come with the tools to make those things happen for me. I guess I'm messed up big time that way. Next year will be 20 years. Gone 20 years and I still love him the same as if he were alive. 20 years and on the anniversary of each death day, I feel as if I'm mourning all over again. 20 years and I still remember how he looks when I close my eyes. I remember how his voice sounded, I remember the smell of his soap. I don't fixate on just the happy times either. I recall the arguments, the frustration, the hurt. I remember how just standing near him, my whole body was electrified and aching until he touched me and made love. I'm not going to be ridiculous and say that everyone can have what I had. I'm not going to lie and tell you that kind of love is easy and all around. But at the same time I'm sick and tired of people making damn excuses. That saying that love and romance until death is impossible and not out there. It is out there. It's somewhere, between 2 people who don't make excuses. It's between 2 people who don't settle but accept. It's between 2 people who communicate and communicate more. It's between 2 people who get angry and frustrated and work through it until it works. It's between 2 people who do what is possible to grow and change together or grow and change to compliment. It's between 2 people who choose each other again and again and again. It's between 2 people who don't ever stop believing in their love. Yes, he is gone from this life. I still love him. I get on with my life. I take care of my bills and family. I talk with my friends. I had a husband. I've had other lovers and other relationships. I laugh at jokes and funny movies. I get out and do hobbies. Even though I thought my world had ended, it didn't. My life goes on and it has happy moments. My intention isn't to brag. It's not to tell a meaningless empty story. I just want those people who tell me that what I had isn't possible to know that it was possible. You shouldn't belittle and insult my love just because you never saw it or felt it. How dare you. I can accept that you have, what you have had. If it makes you happy or not, that's you. What I had isn't more and it isn't better. But it sure as hell existed with me and I know it has existed with others. Never being satisfied? That sounds like something personal and not to be blamed on love. You can't tell me that it was unhealthy. That's bullshit saying that loving one person for the rest of your life is unhealthy. I'm not dead. I'm not standing at a pier pining away for my love. I don't have a creepy shrine to his memory. I kept trying to have other different relationships. I made new dreams and goals. Saying that people have to change and grow? There's no reason why you can't work to change and grow together. If you never saw a billion dollars in person doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. It just means that you haven't seen it in person. But other people have seen it as well. Having a billion dollars isn't unhealthy. It's just might be that some people can't handle having that much all at once. I don't want to open my life up to have that kind of negativity hanging over me. I don't need you to agree. I don't need you to support me. What I can't get behind is having that stomped on. Spitting on that is worse than physically punching me. I don't harbor any ill will. I wish you happiness and continued success with your life and what you have. Sakura Just Saying, Be kind it doesn't cost you anything |
|||
|
The inability to lose that love is a gift and not a weakness or dysfunction. I tend to think those who can turn such things loose are the ones who are unlucky and not the other way around. Keeping your heart open to such possibilities is a reality all its own.
| ||
|
It is great that you had such an amazing connection in your life. Those who say you are not telling the truth, most likely do not know the feeling of losing someone you are truly in love with. Maybe if he were alive you would still feel as strongly about him or maybe not, but it is your life and your emotions and no one can tell you if it is real or not. Peace !
|
Become a member to create a blog
