So I've been thinking about my life lately; where I'm at, and where I wish to be. I'm 30...no shame in telling it. In fact, I'm proud to be 30. The thing is, I'm still not married, I have no kids, and my career - what's a career - is non-existent. (I guess without a career or a husband, it's kind of a good thing I don't have kids yet.) But reality is setting in: almost everyone I know is married with kids, and I'm the one loner, off in the corner somewhere, watching life pass me by. I feel like a wall flower, afraid to get up and dance. Only, I'm not afarid. I just haven't heard a tune worthy of taking to the floor for. Which kind of makes me wonder if I've sat in a daze just out of range of the music, and missed my song, or if life's DJ needs to be replaced. Either way, I'm tired of my situation.
I'm in love with a wonderful man. I'd give anything, any possession I own - or ever will own, to become his wife. So what's the hang up? Life! That's right, life itself is the hang up. Marcelo and I live in two differing countries now, with two differing backgrounds, two differing lifestyles, two differing...are we too different to make it work? The way in which we communicate differes too. We can't seem to openly talk to one another and ever just "get it." He feels I don't understand him, and I feel he's not listening to me. Oh, he hears me, but he's not listening. Everything I say passes through some distorted vortex of negativity. I can praise him, and he still only hears me chewing him out. I'm sure it's my own fault to a degree. We started out rocky - what relationship that finds its begun just in time to turn long-distance, doesn't go through a rocky slope? Yet we've managed to weather the storm by the grace of G0d. And it is this grace that lets me know he's the one for me. If G0d had not set things up for us, we never would have even met. Now this same World Creator is credited not only as the foundation from which we build upon, but the very nail, glue, and sealant that holds us together. So why can't we get it together?
One might ask, "What does this have to do with time travel?" Oh, plenty. If I could travel in time, either forward or backward, my purpose for doing so would be for this man! If I could travel back, into my past, there would be many people I would love to see. I would love to sit and visit with my grandfather(s) - one I never met, and one who passed away over 20 years ago. I would meet an uncle - my mother's older brother - who passed away some years before I was born. I would visit with old friends, and enjoy reliving childhood memories. But above all, I would take in each moment I've spent with Marcelo, catalog every word, chronicle each time he left me breathless. He's precious to me; literally my golden moment. If I could go back in time, I would save everything of him I so value, and erase every unkind word ever spoken toward him. Life is too short to live it so far away from him. I need him in my life, and I would make sure he understood that most of all.
If I could travel forward in time, my purpose would be for this man! It's not so much that I need to know the outcome of life. I simply want to know how to prolong our lives together; elongate health and happiness for us both. (Don't we all wish we could do that for the ones we love?) If I could travel forward in time, I would discover all our pitfalls, great and small, and devise a plan to best avoid them. (Think of all the trouble I could save us from.) But in the end, when it's my time to go, I can only hope I leave this world with him. After all, if he lives to be 120, I'll tell G0d 114 is old enough for me. Why would I want to live a day without him in my life?
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Move Over Jessica Rabbit
How often do we blog about our partners? How often do we talk about them for that mater? Is it good or bad when we do? I talk about Marcelo often enough; often enough to make it clear to near by ears that he's my consuming thought of the day. The unfortunate thing is, he's the one I grumble about more than anything else. So this blog is dedicated to him.
I'm a very public lover. No, I don't openly go after it; that's NOT what I'm saying. What I am say is this: I need PDA's, not even the physical type so much, just public affection. I need to know the man I'm with, wants the world to know we are together. Don't just tell me you want to shout it out to the world...DO IT! LET ME HEAR THOSE LUNGS SHAKE THE WALLS! Um, Marcelo's lungs are a bit weak for my taste, but I love him despite his physical imperfections.
Marcelo, Marcelo, Marcelo...oh how I never tire of that name! Well, it isn't so much the name I love, but the attraction it holds stems from the man himself. He's a tender-hearted man, warm and caring, compassionate - most of the time - and G-d what a character!! He's playful folks. He's not afraid to get down in the floor and play like the big kid that he is. He doesn't have to be center of attention, but he sure crowds the center, if the center takes too long to leave. He's intelligent - oops, did I spell that right? Much more than I am, that's for sure! Oh, and the man doesn't use "!" to express everything he feels...though his face and voice are far more expressive than mine will ever be. He, above me, has the right to exclaim everything he types! ;-) Oh, but back on track...
Marcelo leaves me feeling at such odds with myself. I've never thought of myself as anything more than just plain ole Misty. I'm a simpleton for the most part, born in a small town, raise in a quiet home. Oh, but when Marcelo says my name, I catch myself holding my breath. I have to, if I don't, the mere utterance of my name, (the very name I've spent 30 years of my life hearing), takes my breath away. Though he's Brazilian, he's not overly provocative or sexual - thank G-d, because I couldn't handle him if he were - yet he's just the right blend of explosive vivid colors that captivate my attention, and soft pastels that both warm and sooth me. He's my life-long dream; a goal I never knew I set out to embark upon. He's my blessing awaiting to happen, my best friend in the making, and my curse as well. No one gets under my skin half so well as Marcelo, no one else knows how, as far as I've seen. Ah, but that isn't the point of this blog. My point is, when I least expected it to happen, I met him! I met the man that leaves me feeling like something special: a dance I never knew before, a voice I couldn't hear in myself, a yearning that was awakened. Yes, Marcelo leaves me feeling like a woman. Oh, but not just any woman mind you. Marcelo leaves me feeling like the tender soul I've always longed to be, (when he can), the encouragement I know I can be, (once again, when he can), and most interestingly he leaves me feeling like the vixen I never knew existed in me. Yes, he leaves me at odds with myself. This larger than life character moves me in ways I never imagined anyone could. And at the end of the day, the only thing I can say is this, "Move over Jessica Rabbit, there's a new redhead in town; and this Roger's her's to love."
I'm a very public lover. No, I don't openly go after it; that's NOT what I'm saying. What I am say is this: I need PDA's, not even the physical type so much, just public affection. I need to know the man I'm with, wants the world to know we are together. Don't just tell me you want to shout it out to the world...DO IT! LET ME HEAR THOSE LUNGS SHAKE THE WALLS! Um, Marcelo's lungs are a bit weak for my taste, but I love him despite his physical imperfections.
Marcelo, Marcelo, Marcelo...oh how I never tire of that name! Well, it isn't so much the name I love, but the attraction it holds stems from the man himself. He's a tender-hearted man, warm and caring, compassionate - most of the time - and G-d what a character!! He's playful folks. He's not afraid to get down in the floor and play like the big kid that he is. He doesn't have to be center of attention, but he sure crowds the center, if the center takes too long to leave. He's intelligent - oops, did I spell that right? Much more than I am, that's for sure! Oh, and the man doesn't use "!" to express everything he feels...though his face and voice are far more expressive than mine will ever be. He, above me, has the right to exclaim everything he types! ;-) Oh, but back on track...
Marcelo leaves me feeling at such odds with myself. I've never thought of myself as anything more than just plain ole Misty. I'm a simpleton for the most part, born in a small town, raise in a quiet home. Oh, but when Marcelo says my name, I catch myself holding my breath. I have to, if I don't, the mere utterance of my name, (the very name I've spent 30 years of my life hearing), takes my breath away. Though he's Brazilian, he's not overly provocative or sexual - thank G-d, because I couldn't handle him if he were - yet he's just the right blend of explosive vivid colors that captivate my attention, and soft pastels that both warm and sooth me. He's my life-long dream; a goal I never knew I set out to embark upon. He's my blessing awaiting to happen, my best friend in the making, and my curse as well. No one gets under my skin half so well as Marcelo, no one else knows how, as far as I've seen. Ah, but that isn't the point of this blog. My point is, when I least expected it to happen, I met him! I met the man that leaves me feeling like something special: a dance I never knew before, a voice I couldn't hear in myself, a yearning that was awakened. Yes, Marcelo leaves me feeling like a woman. Oh, but not just any woman mind you. Marcelo leaves me feeling like the tender soul I've always longed to be, (when he can), the encouragement I know I can be, (once again, when he can), and most interestingly he leaves me feeling like the vixen I never knew existed in me. Yes, he leaves me at odds with myself. This larger than life character moves me in ways I never imagined anyone could. And at the end of the day, the only thing I can say is this, "Move over Jessica Rabbit, there's a new redhead in town; and this Roger's her's to love."
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