WE WE WE All The Way Home

Recently whilst mulling it over a bunch of GUS (grown up sodas) was the subject of coupling discussed amongst single girls. It wasn't one of those typical conversations where they were left singing "Ut Oh" on a Friday night rather it was the subject of when two individuals become the "we." Don't get me wrong; the world is a much grander place when you share it with someone special. The issue lies in the impact that "we" has on the single brood. The gals go for drinks on the weekend. The guys play pool, etc. Couples however do it a little bit differently and yet so mundanely. "We" went house hunting, "we" opened a bottle of wine, "we" went to the cinema, etc. Well while it sounds quite lovely there are those of us who are struggling to be a "we" and fail most catastrophically.

There is not an over abundance of great mates out there. Some travel through the ravages of time seeking the notion that there is something out there for them to complete life and make them whole. Nonetheless the struggle to make it a go is time consuming and daunting at times. Most dates end in epic failure and can often times be assimilated with Chinese water torture (think the first 40 rainy minutes of Memoir of A Geisha). Toxic love can dry our fears but when we are left with little more than a raw and opened chemical burn do we really need the lye to be dumped into the open wound on top of the gaping vulnerability that coexists? I hear more times than not that its terribly painful to find a date to a wedding as a single gal much less land a life partner to make the me a "we!" So when a single converses with a couplet the last planetary alignment statement they need to be reckoned with is "we." Don't get them wrong, what you have is quite special and we envy you tremendously. Nonetheless the fact remains that we are soldiers in battle, and need the chance to gain access to the medal of honor...the "we."

My advice singles, is be patient and empathetic. While you might just be a me, there is no hindrance from taking your single self out for a night on the town. You never know where the "we" might be.

Guys Always Finish

Derived from its inappropriate title is a story about a girl. This was not just any particular girl but the kind of wunderkind that knocks your socks off and blows your mind. She is practically perfect in every way possible give or take a few minor flaws. Thus our subject is fed up. Open hearted she is perpetually in search of someone to fill her up. She is beauty and brains, sex appeal and wanton. What she lacks however is the limited tolerance towards men and the games they play. Its as if every precursor to a date is bliss and then once things get to their realistic peak she reaches it with all her might to only slide back down the slippery slope of the meeting left with an empty mailbox and a future of false hope towards the next endeavor. She seeks the perpetual wisdom of her closest confidants for support and that which they offer is never going to change her ways. See its not her whatsoever that is the issue of the matter rather the selection process of which she proceeds that is lackluster and gaping with disappointment. Her desired medium is a bevy of superficiality whom would never fully appreciate the beauty of her painting. See for this girl there is more to her than just a heart beat. There is a pulse which is checked with utmost care in which she has her finger on. And while I offer this one countless amounts of advice it might be that she is checking the wrong vein. The vanity vein instead of the deeper arteries that determine the depth of one's empathy. If this beautiful creature could see herself as the explosion of beauty that she really is than perhaps she would see that the vacant selections of late are nothing more than thorns and weeds in her garden of roses she would understand that her blood and bloom are red with lusciousness. They are to be appreciated by the most discerning of tastes; vampires not included. Pit vipers excluded. Allow your heart to open young girl. Embrace the alternative appreciation in its grandeur without delusion. You are truly worth what it takes to fill you up and make you whole. In life and in the bedroom, guys always finish but with matters of the heart, you deserve to finish first.

Organic Growth

There is no firm way to know whether or not you made the right decision. Especially when it comes to romance.  Its always a myth between friends whether or not we selected the right suitor once we have agreed to the commitment however the wiser would weigh the pros and cons beforehand just to be certain altogether this person was in fact the right one.  We have a tendency to sail above the deeper issues rather than to dive right into them and dissect their deeper meanings.  Below the ancillary tissue lies the security we can anchor ourselves to or float elsewhere dependent on if we give ourselves the time that it takes to determine; what is right?  Most are blinded by the superficial flighty feelings that accompany a new romance. Endless phone calls, emails, text messaging, picture mail, flowers, candy, surprise visits and endless dinner dates later.  How to tell?  The only measurement thus far is how one restaurant or florist can outweigh another.  Its as if Hallmark and FTD have a stranglehold on our emotions.  If that is the case perhaps we might want to involve the pharmaceutical companies and condom vendors.  They all play the same role in the modern day courtship, why not?  Rational, I think not.  Rather highly the opposed.  

There is a word tossed around a word very loosely lately though slightly overlooked.  Organic. Whilst its meaning normally pertains to produce and wine it is the organic growth of a relationship that is more meaningful than cards, flowers and the additional swill that merchants can toss your way to cloud your judgement.  While its altogether lovely to receive a darling bouquet of stargazer lilies, most men never get the order correct and almost always opt for something simple and familiar. Once received men are left with a false sense of accomplishment for a deed done haphazardly and women a sense of disappointment.  I digress. Back to the topic of organic growth.    As we get older we feel as if the window of opportunity is declining sharply.  We feel overwhelmingly rushed to drive home a commitment that we overlook the fact that we could be co inhabitants with a perfect stranger.  Rather if we had given ourselves the time and space that we needed to grow a relationship the old fashioned way; with time and investment we could have developed something altogether different.  

A gardener grows the best tomatoes when he takes the time to tend to them, watering and weeding and much like a relationship they grow slowly however strong and beautifully.   We get to know others in due time....without a sense of a time lapse.  So it stands to wonder why we are also so rushed to accomplish a commitment with a perfect stranger.  It is better to give each other time and space to get to know one another.  The bond will grow to fruition over time with proper tending and organic growth.  Like a farmer with his crop it takes time, it takes patience.   All in all the end result something beautiful, enjoyed by both grown organically with the love and grace that can be provided strongly by both parties to enjoy.

Inside A Glass of Water

Everyone has had their frustrations of daily life.  It can be a painful experience.  We however have the weights and measures to balance an otherwise imbalanced existence.  The struggle remains only in what we stack to highly against what is rightfully ours.  If you place too much pressure on your place in life and what you make of it you will only run away from it pensive and slightly shredded.  Learning this many times from my own mistakes and delusions of grandeur find me at peace in my wagers to slow things down and allow what is rightfully so take its time and afford the trappings of what one deserves.  From my glass of water there are many things floating inside.  And while most would abhor the idea of it I believe my cup is full of loveliness and desired destiny.  Long gone are the pains of discrepancy and guilt.  Eradicated are fears and for one split second there is a possibility that the impossible has been eliminated.  Strength in connections and something more than the superficial expectations has most ardently been achieved within acceptable parameters.  The glass overflows with many offerings because one spent the most patient of times waiting for it to get its fill of what grew over time to be an abundance of perfection ever so slightly.  

When Is Enough.... Enough?

When is the right time to throw in the towel.  I might be living my life like its golden but is the rest of the world?  I have my freedoms, and travel where I choose to go and yet a piece of me often times feels a little lack and nude.  Delving into the arms of a relationship always seems a desirable expectation.  However when I explore the inner-workings of those whom exist in it I feel compelled to praise my efforts.   I could most easily settle for something that satisfies the qualms of those who watch me from the outside with their opinions and suggestions bantering the thick of my skin.   And at what expense would they be satisfied but that of my own.  I often times feel as if my mobile doubles as a lifeline for those suffering through relationship turbulence.  I answer, I listen and I attempt to offer the best and most unbiased advice I can conceptualize without regard to what I could actually do in a situation as such.  For a moment I will acknowledge my accolades. Not my education or work experience or other random talents. Those come with titles of self-expression. Rather the accomplishment of knowing that I can and did walk away from the most irreverent of catastrophic relationships.  To love and to lose is better than not loving at all; if that is the case I would have preferred to take the latter.  Single women so immensely desire a "boyfriend" or "husband" at what cost?  Many drinks, many evenings at local venues with the same tired faces.  It just seems a little stale.  Perhaps even the off chance of an Internet encounter when a dash of impatience kicks in to reveal an otherwise tired sense of desperation .

So just what is the motivation behind wanting to be coupled?  I have no conceptual understanding of just what the goal is.  I being a single myself enjoy the trappings of consult-free compromise.  No negotiating, no fuss. Its easy to wake on days gone by and not have to answer to anyone.  Perhaps I have indulged in my freedom and became accustomed to its features and benefits. After all if men and women are different sexes perhaps we prefer to run separate.  I cannot imagine the possibility of a man wanting to read the same texts I choose and I certainly cannot picture the possibility of a man sitting parallel to my desires to watch certain films.  Its just improbable.  Again, I ask when enough is enough and we resign to the fact that not all persons were meant to be coupled. And its also quite plausible that the concept other than the false sense of reality and superficiality of finding the perfect person is overrated. 

When is enough searching enough.  

For those of us who happen to know exactly what they want; when do you get to actually get what you want?  How long do you have to wait to get it?  When do you throw in the towel and accept the fact that you have abundance and grandeur singularly and you had it better than you thought you always did?