Archive for the ‘ck’ Tag
Let’s play a little game. I’ll say a word and you say the first word that comes to your mind.
Now some of you may say words such as “apple”, “wine”, or “shoes”.
Others may say “roses”, “hearts” or “lipsticks”.
Me, and Taylor Swift, we would say “Love”.
Love is Red. Red is Love.
Love comes in many shades of red. Red is the light and dark shades of love.
Love is butterflies in the stomach and going weak in the knees.
Love is kissing in the rain and dancing under streetlights to the sounds of the city.
Love is looking into his eyes and forgetting that anyone else is in the room.
Love is lying in bed all day and cuddling under the covers.
Love is drinking in dark empty bars on a Tuesday night, just the two of you and the bartender.
Love is telling your mom that you “met someone”
Love is uneasiness when he hasn’t texted you back, and excitement and relief when he calls.
Love is break-ups and broken hearts.
Love is asking your brother or best guy friend for advice.
Love is pints of ice cream, bottles of wine, and your best friend.
Love is loss, and missing, and trying to forget.
Love is remembering the good and feeling the pain that time never seems to take away.
Love is jealousy, confusion, and frustration.
Love is happiness and sadness, sometimes even at the same time.
Love is smiling and laughing again.
Love is running into him when you least expect it.
Love is thinking you moved on, only to stumble back down.
Love is feeling lost, but knowing that you will find yourself eventually.
Love is beginnings, middles, and ends.
Love is yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Love is patience. Love is impatience.
Love is learning to love another through the good times and the bad.
Love is “I do”, “I will”, and “I promise you”. Love is sometimes “I don’t know how I’m feeling”.
Love is never black or white. Love is shades of gray.
Love is red, but sometimes it can be blue.
Love is taking chances and making mistakes.
Love is doubts, fears, regrets, and uncertainties.
Love is “I’m sorry” and “I forgive you”. Love is “I forgive myself”.
Love is learning to love again.
Love is trusting another. Love is trusting yourself.
Love is the best thing that will ever happen, though sometimes it may feel like the worst.
Love is always worth the risk.
Love is fearless.
Love is never giving up.
Red- Taylor Swift
As I sit in the bedroom of my childhood and adolescent days, I am nearly haunted by the ghosts of crushes past. Gosh, how many boys did I go to bed thinking about in this room? Well, if we could middle school then it may get a little tricky. So scratch that, and let’s only focus on those guys that really caused my head to spin and heart to pitter-patter since my hormonal adolescent days began.
To be honest, I can only remember a handful of real crushes during those days, and some of those leave me questioning if what I was feeling was real or merely part of exploring the world of boys.
But to be fair, I can say that there were probably two or three boys that captured my young heart and filled my dreams- both during the days and nights. However, as I begin to reminisce, more than anything I realize how my feelings for those boys have vanished.
And then there was the love of my life that consumed my heart during those beloved college days. He was the guy that I thought I’d never get over- whether or not we ended up together. For years I truly believed that I would be haunted by feelings for him and therefore, I’d never be able to love another. But here I am now, having to remind myself of him and the fated love I believed we shared.
And over these last few months, I found myself struggling to let go of the feelings I developed for Cleveland. Once again I thought I was doomed to suffer through lost memories of him. I thought my heart was going to broken (again) into millions of pieces without a glimpse of hope to patch it back together.
But here I sit, remembering all the guys that came before Cleveland and how the pain I endured for them, once upon a time. I recall those restless nights where I wondered if s0-and-so liked me to, and those days at school when I hoped my crush would ask me to Homecoming. Though tonight, what I remember the most is how I got over every single one of them, even if I deemed it impossible. All of those guys, from the one I shared my first kiss to the guy I first fell in love, I can honestly say that I’ve gotten over each one of them.
And now, I think I can almost say that I’ve gotten over Cleveland too. Okay, I’ll admit, there have been some moments of daydreams here and there; however, what’s surprised me is how little I’ve been thinking of him. I’m sure it helps that he won’t talk to me, or return any of the few texts I’ve sent in the last couple of weeks. Though, whatever the case may be, I’m left sitting here wondering what I ever felt for him in the first place. Was he another crush? A guy who showed a broken-down girl some attention? Or was it more? Or perhaps, was it ever anything at all?
Even though he’s made it quite clear that we won’t be seeing each other anytime soon, I cannot help but be curious what it would be like if I saw him again. Would the feelings of desire come back? Or would I smile at him with an empty heart? Would I remember those good times that we shared? Or would I look at him and only feel the pain that he caused me as he slowly indicated that he couldn’t do this anymore?
Sometimes I wish we had that extra moment to see what would happen. But then again, maybe it’s better off that we don’t.
Song of the Moment: Glass by Ingrid Michaelson
I’m pretty sure I speak for every single girl (and probably boy too) when I say that being single isn’t easy- especially during the holidays. There just something about the falling snow and twinkling lights that elicits PDAs, even without the help of mistletoe. It’s not that us singletons are bitter or jealous, but rather we feel taunted by the overload of kisses on every street corner and engagement announcements on Facebook. Again, we’re not bitter…we’re just human. It’s not easy to smile every time you find out another high school ‘friend’ is engaged or hear a valley girl bragging about what her boyfriend is getting her for Christmas on the bus. To be honest, some days it’s just plain difficult. Okay, most days, especially when you’re also struggling to smile through an already-broken heart.
I’m a little disappointed in myself these days. When did I become a cynical girl who stopped believing in true love? When did I begin gagging at the sign of lovey-dovey cuddle sessions at the bus stop? When did I stop spending time with couples at bars asking them how they met? When did I start being one of those sad girls who really doesn’t believe that she’ll ever find love?
The truth is I don’t know how to start believing again. I’m not really sure that I’m capable of doing so granted the sad & cynical state I’ve found myself in lately. Maybe it’s going to take time? Maybe it’s going to take a miracle? Or maybe it’s never going to happen? After struggling for 7 years to get over a first love who never officially knew my feelings (ck) and falling for a guy that I never had a chance of calling mine (“Cleveland”), I find myself grasping for something. Anything that makes me believe again that love is possible for me.
Okay, this is definitely coming off more rash than meant to be, but I guess my point is this: How are broken hearts supposed to be repaired? How can dead hearts become alive again? What is the secret? Who holds the key? There are so many broken hearts in our world today, some of them belonging to very good friends of mine. How can I fix them? How can I make them whole again? How can I help them believe in love again? How can I help them see that they deserve to be loved, and that one day they will be loved again?
Song of the Moment: Dead Hearts by Stars
I’m just going to say it. I’m going to tell to tell you how it is. How it’s always been. Like rapid spitfire, here are the facts of my life. My love life- or lack thereof. Like a game of 21 questions, I’ll give my answers- without any questions being asked. Okay, here it goes:
I had my first “boyfriend” within weeks of beginning 6th grade; and my second a few weeks later. (Yeah, I had a lot of “boyfriends” during my middle school years.) My first kiss was in 7th grade after a school dance. (I can still- vaguely- remember it.) My first pseudo-real boyfriend was as a freshman in high school. (He was a junior at another high school.) I had my first dose of heartbreak during my senior year of high school, and may have broken my first heart then too. (Different guys.) A few years later, as a college sophomore, I experienced a few firsts: First one-night stand (there were a few of those); first other stuff (no sex though); and first real bout of love…followed by my first broken heart.
While still mending my broken heart, I indulged in my first friends-with-benefits relationship in the summer following college graduation, which led to my ‘first’ a day after my twenty-third birthday. I’ve been with four others since then. (Note: I was neither in a relationship nor in love with any of them.) And if you must know, the verdict is still out as to whether or not I’ve been in love a second time. I like to think of it more along the lines of a high school more-than-a-crush.
So that’s my story. It’s far from a poetic but better than that, it’s the truth. But while this timeline shares many details, it leaves out so much. It doesn’t include all of those boys that (may have) liked me but never once told me so. It doesn’t share how many boys I kissed or made-out with that never called the next day. And more importantly, it fails to mention all those nights when I curled up in bed wishing that tomorrow would be different; that tomorrow someone who walk into my life and make everything better- or at least have someone to stand by my side.
I’ve been having a fairly emotional week. I’ve blamed it on being tired and stressed from large amount of school work I’ve had. However, the truth is, my heart got a bit broken again this week; and as a result, I found myself feeling needy for a guy’s attention. But the real thing I learned from this week is how much I still struggle with my own issues when it comes to boys and the potential of relationships & love. While aknowledging that I’ve come a long way, my flaws really shined through this week- at least in my eyes.
I need a hero. I need someone to rescue me from my own doubts and reservations; someone who can make me believe again. Someone who can break down my walls and call me out on my issues. I need someone who sees that I’ve had a rocky time with this stuff in the past and therefore, knows exactly what he can do and say to help me understand that he’s there for me. I need that hero from my dreams to be more than a figment in my mind. Instead I want to roll over in the morning and see him next to me. Wishful thinking? Yeah, probably.
The truth is I thought I found that hero- once upon a time. I saw so much in him and really thought he could be the one I’ve always dreamed to find. I thought he had potential to be a first for me; but instead, it turns out to be another statistic. It’s okay. Just disappointing, especially when I really had high hopes for that one.
I should probably end this post differently, but think this is how it’s going to be. However, I will say that I haven’t fully given up on finding that hero eventually. Simply I’m just struggling right now to make sense on how something can feel so right, yet be so wrong. If you want more, listen to the song posted below and it can given an idea of the mood I’m finding myself in.
*The title of this post are lyrics from the beautiful song, Holding Out for a Hero by Ella Mae Bowen.
Please do me a favor and “Like” the Live.Love.Learn.Breathe. Facebook page. I’d love to find out who actually reads this little blog of mine and get more feedback from you as my daily wake-up/work/school/sleep/repeat- routine may prevent me from writing as often as I’d like. This link should work- https://www.facebook.com/pages/LiveLoveLearnBreathe/232179646829391?sk=wall. If it doesn’t then you can search through Pages for “Live.Love.Learn.Breathe” or email me at Kristen.Medica@gmail.com.
Since I’m not entirely awake enough to write a post tonight, I thought I’d share what I posted on the Live.Love.Learn.Breathe Facebook page. Please do me a favor and “Like” the page. I’d love to find out who actually reads this little blog of mine and get more feedback from you as my daily wake-up/work/school/sleep/repeat- routine may prevent me from writing as often as I’d like. This link should work- https://www.facebook.com/pages/LiveLoveLearnBreathe/232179646829391?sk=wall. If it doesn’t then you can search through Pages for “Live.Love.Learn.Breathe” or email me at Kristen.Medica@gmail.com.
Live.Love.Learn.Breathe– Today’s Epiphany: A few hours ago I received an unexpected text from my first love, and coincidentally my first heart-break. But as I sit here now, I feel empowered by the realization that I survived from a broken heart. It may have taken a long time to get here, but all that matters is that I made it. (And yes, I texted him back and am 100% okay. Moving on is a beautiful thing.)
So I haven’t been doing too well with dates lately. (And that’s putting it nicely.) Besides knowing Max’s birthday (July 11th), I promise you that I hardly remember the day of the week. But according to the desk calendar in front of me, today is Monday, July 18th. How did I not realize it until now? How did I type it multiple times today and not recognize its significance until right now?
Last year on July 18th I wrote this post: we were both young when i first saw you. i close my eyes and the flashbacks start. Those are the thoughts that composed my mind on this date last year, and now all I can say is, “Wow! What a difference a year makes. What a difference 8 years makes!”
Although I can still vividly picture the moment that cute boy appeared in my nineteen-year old life, today I find myself embarrassed by how many July 18th’s I’ve
spent wasted reminiscing about the past. How many days within those years I spent holding onto his memory and foolishly believing we’d end up together- eventually. However, more so than embarrassment I find myself relieved that I finally let him go. I know this to be true because not only did I forgot to remember today’s date, but I also find myself questioning why I feel the need to write this post about him today.
With no intentions to write about last night’s dream, I’m now finding it impossible not to since it’s been on my mind All. Day. Long. Yes, one of those that really stings the heart and cannot be forgotten with a little coffee therapy. In fact, if I remember correctly, I woke up startled last night after experiencing a kiss and goodbye that felt so real. (Gosh, I’m getting chills just thinking about them.)
Other than pure shock over this unexpected dream, I’m fine. However, since I haven’t been able to shake it I’ve decided that it’s in my best interest to do what always helps in situations like this: Write It Out and Channel Carrie Bradshaw. What Would Carrie Bradshaw Do? Fortunately, Carrie Bradshaw has been in a similar situation before and so I find myself remembering one of those moments to help me move past these rumblings going around in my mind today as a result of last night’s dream.
On my way to work today, with the dream still clear as day in my mind, I recalled the moment in Sex and the City 2 when Carrie sees Aidan in Abu Dhabi. It’s the moment when the past re-enters your life and Time Stands Still. You think no thoughts. You feel no pain. All you can do is stare straight into his eyes as he stares into yours. I know this situation so well. I lived this moment dozens of times during my college years. Over and over again. I could write a book about those moment… and one day I may.
I haven’t seen my Aidan Shaw for five years now, but I can tell you that I still remember those moments and name each emotion that visited me (when feelings returned, that is) as a result of those lovely little run-ins- usually unexpected and therefore, unprepared for. As I said, I haven’t seen him in a long time nor have I given him much of a thought lately. But as he’s been known to do, last night he did appear in my dream.
I didn’t expect to see him last night. I haven’t dreamt about him in a while; and I must stress again that I really haven’t thought about him either. But there’s a reason last night’s dream is still stinging with me today. (And there’s a reason why I just may have looked for him on Facebook too.) In a dream that perfectly combined the past and the present, it all ended with a kiss and a simple, “Goodbye.” Even though I woke up startled immediately after that, I understand the message loud and clear. I thought I’ve moved on, but that was the moment I actually did. It was the “Goodbye” that was never spoken. It was the “Goodbye” we always needed to say.
Most of you don’t know our story, but I will tell you that this guy was never my boyfriend. And I never told him how I felt about him. I also never kissed him goodbye the last time I saw him over 5 years ago; and to be honest, I never even said “Goodbye”. Actually, I wouldn’t let myself watch him walk away that night because I knew I couldn’t let that be my last memory of him. I never wouldn’t have gotten over him if that was my last memory. I would have always regretted letting him walk away.
Even despite last night’s dream, I’m okay. And even though it’s been on my mind all day, I’m fine. I truly believe that there’s a reason I dreamt about him last night: A good reason. In my opinion, based on my own experiences, I think the past revisits us to show us how far we’ve come and how much we’ve grown. Past loves sneak up on us so that they can catch us moving on, letting go, and learning to love again. They appear to reconfirm to us that we’ve accepted them as part of our past- something we learned from and allowed us to be where we are today.
Maybe I saw him last night so that I could finally have that long anticipated ‘goodbye’ and move on once and for all?
Song of the Moment: Starts with Goodbye by Carrie Underwood