Day 1

My heart is in shambles. Can't get over one man because I'm convinced that I'm in love with him and I can't get over the other one because he just won't leave me alone.

You know that feeling you get when you see someone you like.... or liked? I broke his heart and mine along with it. Why? I didn't like him enough then, I hate the very thought of him now. You know what it's like when you see an ex that you didn't part with on a very good note? That's the pinch I feel every time, sometimes more than others. Most times, I don't feel a thing.

Then there's this man, handsome as hell, brainy but not too much and I'm just head over heels with....
Hmmm.....it's been months since I wrote on this blog, but OMG.

It's at that point when you don't want to show that you feel too much because you don't want to drive the person away and it takes every ounce of energy in your being to be around them and not to show them....Damn! And you don't want to seem like you're not interested at all. Shucks! It hurts. Patience. Whatever is meant to happen will happen no matter what, right?

In my mind, I sit on a black iron bench in the middle of a park, no...a street...or maybe it's just a bench in the middle of nowhere and "Breakeven" by "The Script" is playing from God knows where and I'm just sitting there looking forlorn and damaged and I'm waiting for prince charming to make up his mind....or come to his senses...I don't know...he's just running towards me but I can't see him. And he's running and running. He can't see me either but he knows where I'll be..and then "Breakeven" stops and this time..."The Man Who Can't Be Moved" starts to play and it's sad and piercing...and the first trace of tears appear at the peaks of my eyes and Oh.....

I shower the grass with tears because for the love of me, I can't seem to get anything I ever want. But...as I'm crying my eyes dry and I can't quite catch my breath....and I'm bent over, hands on knees and head on hands, begging the underworld to surface and swallow me whole....a hand touches my hair, smoothing it back as one would a child. I feel warm breath on the back of my neck. I'm afraid to move because I'm convinced that if I do, I might not have the pleasure of just enjoying that moment be it real or imaginary, so I stay put.

I stay put until the hand on my shoulder nudges me to sit up and a voice calls my name. And by God!.... it's the voice and the breath and the hand of the man I was so sure would never be mine....but there he is.

He dries my eyes and in his, I can see clearly that this is just the first of many moments I will share with him.