We all have things we turn too when we’re going through hard times.
Alcohol, friends, sex, or if you’re me, you go skateboarding. Sadly while I was going through difficulties with my ex boyfriend, I managed to snap my last board.
The first thing I was set on getting as soon as I moved to Tampa was a new board, and why not a longboard since it is Tampa I was moving to.
Yesterday I purchased my first Sector 9 longboard. And I’ve spent every free moment I have on it. Finally I feel like I’m back to the person I was before Asheville.
Finally getting back to being myself again and doing what I love.
Tag Archives: passion
Dear Man Across the Room.
Dear Man Across the Room,
It was a pleasure to make eye contact with you. I like the outfit you decided to wear today, and you have an incredible smile. But please don’t come over here.
You see, even though we both enjoy looking at each other, I sincerely don’t want to waste your time.
Thank you for asking for my number, it was great talking to you, I truly believe you’re interested in me.. but I don’t want to waste your time.
You see, sweet Man Across the Room, I’m a lost cause, and even though my father told me not to let my heart grow cold, I believe I already have.
Why don’t you believe me?
Okay, lets just say there is a spark between us, lets just say we date, lets just say you start to call me yours, and I call you mine.
You’ll come to learn that I’ll never let you say the word “forever” around me.
You’ll tell me you love me everyday, and I’ll never reply with the same.
You’ll never get to make love to me.
You’ll talk of marriage, and future, yet everytime I’ll laugh and change the subject.
I won’t let you get close, you’ll try, and you’ll fight, and I’ll sit in silence and you’ll walk away in disgust.
This is who I’ve become.
And the day you realize that, and the day you tell me, “We will overcome this cold silence”, is the day you will never lose me.
Because all I ask for is true effort.
True, unwavering, passionate, effort.
But we will never find out if you will give me that effort, because I will never give you the chance to prove yourself.
But thank you, Man Across the Room. I hope you find what you are looking for in someone else.
Hopeless Romantic.
In my prime dating years, I’ve repetitively heard the term, “I’m a hopeless romantic.”
Particularly from men.
Okay, actually only from men.
Even just last night I had a man call me, and in his lonely frustration, cursed himself for being “a hopeless romantic”.
But what is it that you boys think a hopeless romantic is? Because the men that have been throwing that term around are truly the most selfish people Ive come to know.
So you want to find love? You want to find a soul mate? You want things to be easy?
Yet you push away the women that care for you and want to be there for you. You refuse to fight for that love, you want it to walk up to you and say “I’m here, I’ll take care of you, and I’ll stay right by your side even though you won’t treat me right.”
Basically from the men who have told me they were “hopeless romantics”, it pretty much means they are lonely and pity themselves because of it.
But that shouldn’t be the definition.
Hopeless Romantics should love, love. They should be passionate and romantic. They should put more effort into others than they do themselves. If you are lazy and self centered, then you probably had your heart broken, because someone you loved left you, you just can’t fathom why, and you pity yourself for it.
Hence, you using the term, “hopeless romantic”.
In my eyes, it just looks hopeless.
There is nothing romantic about a man being mad he’s alone.
Disguised as Rain.
In the two weeks of my preparing to leave North Carolina, the heavens had opened up and wept with me.
Perpetual tears rolled down my cheeks, that were always hidden by the rain that covered Asheville.
Cruel rain.
Unstoppable rain.
Rain that fell without remorse.
Rain had become the symbol of our breakup.
Today in Tampa, while we ran our errands and bought our groceries, the sky’s turned black, and the winds blew palm trees with full force.
We all stated the obvious.
Rain was soon to come. As soon as we pull in the driveway, plump drops of rain descend. I rush to the mailbox, bags in hand.
When women normally run for shelter, we smiled and laughed.
“The smell!” my bestfriend yelled over the beautiful sound of rain surrounding us, “Can you smell that, Annie? The smell of the rain!”
I was caught up in the moment.
That is the smell before the rain? That’s the so called petrichor, the scent of rain on dry earth?
We stood out there for a moment, “That smell,” I blurted out, “We don’t have that smell in North Carolina. That smell don’t even exist there.”
“Really? That’s funny.” She laughed as she proceeded to unlock the front door, and the air conditioned room hit our faces.
I spend the majority of the time going from window to window, watching the most beautiful rain take place.
The rain was literally easy on the eyes. It was calm and collected. It didnt feel like a punishment or a reminder of my heartache, but the perfect opportunity to play beautiful music and have long talks with my close friends.
Things are slowly changing.
Everything life is throwing at me is beautiful, sincere and breathtaking.
The Daily Barefoot 