You were never this way, you say I made you this way It is me who is responsible for your words, your rage But you are a good person You love and respect women And now that you are done with me You’ll just find some other “Bitch” you say Some other Bitch you say
All the fighting, the passive aggressiveness, the mind games, the hard to get games, the blame games. I'm so exhausted by it. Underneath all of the melodrama is just fear. Fear of rejection, fear of facing ourselves. Fear of that deep, dark abyss. We're grabbling for control to try and prevent the inevitable. To avoid... Continue Reading →
Blah. Okay. I'm going to get personal because other than describing this experience, I don't know how else to communicate this arrogant tendency that high conflict people have of claiming they can predict your every move. We all have wounds, right? Of course we do. I've been in a decade long love affair that has... Continue Reading →
“True invitations... which are invitations that you can always reject by kindly saying: “No, thank you.”, and there’s no punishment or retaliation of any kind for not having accepted. If there’s punishment, then it wasn’t a true invitation, it was hiding a request or a demand that brings distortion to the spirit of the potential... Continue Reading →
Every morning at first light he greets her. Every night she is the last thing he sees below the glow of the moon. Together they weather every storm. Their branches do not touch but beneath the surface their roots have become entwined with time. No matter how much they grow in either direction, the depth... Continue Reading →
It's like subtle disapproval and it can be so subtle that it's hard to pin point exactly what it is that feels so slimy.
I live in Mississippi. The Southern part of the United States commonly referred to as “The South”. We have a saying round these parts… it goes: “Here in the South we don’t hide crazy. We parade it on the front porch and give it a sweet tea.” It’s true. We stand by that.
Something I have heard so often in my life: "You're too young to know what love is." To that I say BULLSHIT. Love knows no age.
Remember that kid? The one who thought you hung the moon... Mom said when I was born and I finally opened my eyes, it was you who was holding me. I saw you first. The first time I questioned your involvement in the hanging of the moon was the night I heard you and Mom... Continue Reading →