Seeking smart nerdy type that can run faster than a speeding bullet and tolerate a moody alpha female. Kryptonite-toting-Caesar-complex twerps need not apply.
So I have a Superman complex, you already hate me so do me a favor and shut up.
Most many people have their own version of the ideal person for them that’s based on looks and how that person will act and make them feel all of the time. Many call this person their soul mate or “the one.” The truth is your soul mate is actually your imaginary friend.
Everyone is running around looking for their imaginary friend to buddy up with for the rest of a very imaginary life. Imaginary kids that will do just as you tell them to do. Imaginary youth for eternity. Perfection. [...]
Is it that you need glasses? If so I would have paid for the $20 dollar eye exam at Cohen’s. Do you have a drinking problem and therefore you’re aim is off? There’s AA. But to be honest my patience for your incompetence has run out. I’m on empty.
I can understand if I was the alcoholic, drug abuser, cutter, stalker, emotionally cockeyed one but I’m in therapy working my ass off. And yet I’m left with another year of utter disappointment. [...]
When the sky is at its blackest, the streets at their quietest, it is then that I allow my thoughts to run to him. I envision his face, his back, his hands, his legs as clear as day as I hide behind the cloak of night. When no mirrors can expose the guilt I feel as I yearn for the caress of his hands against my naked thighs or the shiver that runs course through my body at his unwavering gaze.
The one who hurt me and of whom I should no longer care; I play a game of bygones during the day, but beneath the anonymity of the blackest nights, when even the moon hides its face, I fall weak and wander back into the solace of his arms. My unyielding love for him exposed. I suffer to feel his breath run rivers along my neck; his lips against mine; his tongue protruding the insides of my mouth in search of the answers he so desperately needs. [...]
Why is it so hard to unfriend an ex on Facebook post breakup and what does it mean when both the breaker upper and the broken hearted stay Facebook friends? Watching each others updates; getting upset and hurt when the other is having fun and finding solace when it seems they’re having a bad day. Yet neither will make the first move to unfriend the other.
In the past I’ve gone almost mad not knowing what an ex was doing as I fought the urge to call them, wondering if they were thinking about me as much as I thought about them. These days I can skip right past the should or shouldn’t I call angst and find out how the ex spent their entire day, only to be crushed by the news that were out having fun, without me.
The worst experience was going to my homepage one afternoon and seeing a picture they had posted of themselves with another woman, smiling. Since then I’ve learned how to block their posts and updates from my homepage, but the fact is I can still check up on them. It’s the passive aggressive way to drag out my own pain. A case of it hurts so bad it feels good. And when I do go to their page to sneak a look aka be a fly on the wall, I have only myself to blame since I know good and well I should have stayed away from their page in the first place as I spiral into a pit of self-loathing and self-pity. Yet, I have to admit that when things are going good for me I have no qualms splashing the news on my page in hopes that they’re reading about all my fun, without them. [...]
In a recent conversation with friends we got to talking about men and women here in New York City. I freely admitted that many New York women are aggressive and hostile. From those low calorie diets and long hours in the office coupled with the need to control everything in their lives, including their men, New York women can be quite off putting if not downright offensive sometimes.
The worse of it all is these women take this aggressiveness as a badge of honor of what it means to be a New York woman. Sorry, I’ll pass. Witty, smart, fire cracker, beautiful, alluring, sexy and independent does not mean grabbing every guy by the balls and twisting them off his body. [...]
During a recent discussion with a friend of mine we both realized we’re more alike than previously thought. See, she’s always in a relationship. I’m not. I always thought I had a fear of commitment but have recently come to terms that that’s not my problem. I commit to lots of things. I have long-time friends. I pay my rent. I easily see projects through to the end. In reality I’m a pretty committed person.
Turns out we both she and I have a fear of intimacy. Yet, according to societies standards we girls supposedly have been dreaming of marriage and children since we were three. At three, I was deciding what I wanted to be when I grew up and had decided I wanted to be a doctor, a lawyer, a ballet dancer, an ice skater and the president. The problem I faced at the time was how I would do them all. Never did I see a future husband. I never dreamed of a big wedding and I never dreamt of having kids. [...]
Women are never satisfied, he said. The comment stopped me dead in my tracks as my mind flitted through hundreds of past experiences. I cocked my head to side and had to agree with him. Men who are satisfied with life we label as lacking ambition. Most women without ambition are usually looking for men with ambition to do the work for them.
From the chicken head from around the way looking for a guy to pay for her nails and hair to get done to the high-end gold digger that searches out wealthy-only husbands. Women are constantly in search to acquire material things, societal status, or a certain look to make her feel more beautiful, desirable and complete as a woman. [...]