Tag Archives: romance

game changer

I don’t know what you did but you did it. I don’t get feelings. I have this talent where I could go out with a guy and have an awesome time but not want anything to do with him the very next day. I convince myself that every guy is mediocre at best, so once they’re gone, I’m not missing out on a damn thing. But then there you were. It’s funny because the day you and I were going on our first date, I kept forgetting. I’d be driving and talking on the phone to Jourdan and I’d stop mid-sentence and be like, “Fuck! I forgot I have to get ready for this date when I get home.” If I’m being honest, I didn’t even try. I remember getting ready and calling Jourdan back, asking him, “should I push the time some more?” And I ended up pushing it from 5, to 6, to 6:30, to 7. So I dressed in work clothes. I wore skate shoes. I got to the restaurant already prepared to leave. I was over it before I even got out of the car. I’ve become so accustomed to saying no to second dates that I was 99% sure you were just another name to add to the books. But you were that 1%. 

Maybe it was the way you made me laugh with your lack of chopstick skills. Or the way you held me every time I’d mention I was cold. Maybe it’s the way our conversation flowed so naturally. Or the way we judged people together as a team. Maybe it’s the way you got so nervous before our first kiss. Or the way we snuck out of your car to avoid the people in the car next to us laughing. It was so simple, but it was the best first date of my life. And for some reason, I wanted to see you again. And again. And again.

If you were any other guy, I’d freak out after you tried to hold my hand. But I intertwined my fingers with yours like they were supposed to be there. If you were any other guy, I’d turn my head once I saw you leaning in for a kiss. But I met you halfway and came back for seconds. If you were any other guy, I would have deleted all your text messages and blocked your number the second I’d gotten home. But I texted you telling you how great of a time I had, and how I hoped we’d get to do it again very soon. You changed the game.

People often ask me if you make me happy. And oddly enough, the answer is no. You don’t make me happy. I was obviously happy before you came into my life, so you are not the reason for my happiness. However, I will say that you add to my happiness. I am a firm believer that before you add another person into your life, you must be happy on your own first. And the person you add later on should only magnify that happiness, not create it. They should widen the smile you already have. They should brighten the glow that is already in your eyes. They should make the music you already hear sound louder and more clear. Ultimately, your picture should be complete — their job is to make it all hi-def.

And that’s what you did for me. I find it very hard to admit, but I like you. A lot. I’m an extremely unattached person, but for some reason I want to stick to you. And while I am scared of diving headfirst into whatever we have going on, I want you to know that you make my smile even bigger. You make my eyes twinkle more. You make the music way more crisp and beautiful. I was happy. I am happy. But you took a magnifying glass to all of it. 

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to all the boys i’ve kissed before:

Anyone can steal a kiss on the lips. I’ve grown so accustomed to men leaning in that I’m practically numb to the sensation. A kiss on the lips is almost clichĂ© to me. There is no spark when his lips reach mine. I see no fireworks. I can kiss a man on the lips and forget all about him the next day. 14-year-old me would be disappointed. 22-year-old me says, “Hey! This is what my twenties are supposed to be like! Fuck off, 14-year-old me!” Maybe I just take them for granted. After all, it is just a kiss. So to all the boys I’ve kissed before: I’m sorry for playing with your mind, but I won’t break my back for you. 

But a kiss on the forehead could make me fly. You’re looking beyond my body, reading more than the words off my lips. You’re appreciating my mind, cherishing my intellect. You’re honoring the light in me, just as I will do with you. You’re not lusting after me. Your lips on my forehead aren’t asking me to follow you into the bedroom. You’re not undressing my body, you’re unraveling a different part of me; inviting me into that same part of you. That’s where I get my thrill. That’s where my adrenaline stems from. Anyone can steal a kiss on the lips. But the man who rests his lips on my forehead can have my heart forever. And his lips on mine will only taste that much sweeter.

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pass me the lighter

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I loved him. But I didn’t love him the way I should have. Every piece of the puzzle that was my existence was broken, scattered, lost. My childhood dreams were swept under the rug while I tried everything in my power to keep my lover satisfied. My passions slowly vanished into thin air, as everything he wanted became everything I wanted. My life goals were put on hold, in fear that he would think I was being selfish, or that he would get bored of my same routine. But my routine stayed boring with every day I stuck to him. I lost everything to him. He consumed my every thought, my every dream, my every word. He was all I cared about. He took all my strength and all my energy.

And then I lost him.

I loved him. But I stopped loving myself. I lost who I was in 5 years. I had to rebuild — or rather, rediscover — who I was before he conquered my every decision. I am slowly but surely relighting my flame. The fire isn’t spreading quite as fast as I’d like it to, but there’s finally light in the room again.

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