The best conversation ever.

The following contains excerpts from a conversation which took place over text messaging between Justin and I, Monday, October 29, 2007.

His phone dies. He lost his wallet, and when they [the phone company] tried to debit his bill, since his credit cards were frozen, they shut off his phone. He asks me (via text) for $15 to put on his phone for him so he can get it turned back on.
I tell him: "This kinda makes me feel like we're married."
Justin: "Well, I was gunna talk to you about being exclusive."
Me: "Okay? Um... I don't know what to say..."
Justin: "Well do you want to?"
Me: "You know I'd love to, but I thought you wanted to go slow and wait to see when you get here."
Justin: "Do you wanna be my boyfriend."
Me: "Yes. Wholeheartedly."

So I call his phone company and put $25 onto his account. He texts me:
"Baby! You didn't have to put that much on!"
Me: "I just gotta cover you... You like going over too much. You just owe me a hella nice date."
Justin: "Ooooh don't worry, I have big plans."
Me: "I'll tell you what your present is if you tell me..." (I got him and the kids some presents for when they get here.)
Justin: "I'll tell you half."
Me: "So you get half... Es un perro. But it does something totally cute."
Justin: "We are first going for an early romantic dinner at Fresc0 [Pesce Fresco], then spending the night at the Brown Palace Hotel and spa for facials and relaxing massages and then a night of cuddling, wine, and love."
Me: "What did I do to deserve you?!"
Justin: "LOL baby, that's only half of it. You have no idea. You need to schedule a whole weekend for me."

I love surprises.
But I still don't know what I did to deserve this.

What a day.

i don't know what to write. i'll do this later.

A Mi Querida Justin

I call you beautiful because of your heart of gold, your soul more angelic than the cherubs in heaven, and your face even DaVinci could never replicate.

You make me feel appreciated...
You make me feel special...
...like I'm worth something...
...like I'm worthy of something...
...like I'm deserving...
...like I'm attractive, and loved, and cared about...
...like I'm wanted.

I'm falling for you.
I'm falling fast.
And I don't know how to stop.
I want this to be real.

I want winter walks in the park; warm hats, gloves, scarves. Holding your hand as the snow falls around gently around us. Smiling and laughing at the kids playing in the snow.

I want a nice dinner, dressed up in coats and ties. Just the two of us. A song comes on and we take a slow dance on the floor. People stare as I kiss you gently, forehead to forehead, my arms wrapped around you.

I don't care what they say.
You're every line, you're every word.
You're my everything.

I deserve happiness, too.

So I haven’t written in a while, and I figured I’d use my sick day off to give an update. A lot has been going on lately. Well, not really, but there is a lot with a certain someone.

Let’s look back a bit:

October 4, 2007
I started talking to this guy named Justin online. I had known his ex-boyfriend, Nathan, and saw him online, so I figured I’d make a new friend. After several hours of talking, I realized that I had met one of the world’s most rare men ever.
He’s an architect.
A father of three beautiful children.
A cancer survivor.

This man has more conviction in one moment, one memory. His heart is made of gold, his soul is as pure as an angel.

He’s funny.
He’s original.
He’s unique and different and genuine.

When I volunteered to babysit for him while he’s out on his hot dates, he then asked me if I was going to be his hot date; I asked if he was asking me out, and he said, “maybe.” Next, he genuinely expressed concern for my health when he found out I was a smoker. I have since quit smoking.

Fast forward about a week and a half.
I’m falling.
Again.
We all know how badly situations like this turn out.
I’m going to get my heart crushed. It’s soon going to be ripped from my chest, stomped on, and thrown into the blender.

This afternoon, we were talking. He said that he’s not sure that I even want to date him. When I asked him about it, he said he has issues, baggage.

Duh. Who doesn’t?

I told him that I am willing and ready to accept him for him, every little thing, every piece of baggage. I told him that I understand he has problems, we all do. And I told him I’m here to stand by his side through thick and thin. I know I’m not financially independent yet, but I’m willing to be everything he and the kids need.





I guess the most important thing I’m feeling here is that it’s my turn. I’ve found an amazing guy, and I’d like to date him, I’d like to be part of his life. It’s my turn to be happy! Have I not sat patiently through crushing letdown after letdown? Have I not been alone for the past 23 years? Have I not endured enough pain in being hurt?

I’m the kind of guy who gives my all.
When I appreciate you, I appreciate you with my whole being.
When I care about you, I care with my whole soul.
When I love you, I love you with all my heart.

It’s my turn to find love. It’s my turn to have happiness. It’s my turn to smile, and make memories, and cuddle, and smile, and BE HAPPY!

IT’S MY TURN TO HAVE HAPPINESS!



This blog isn’t what I wanted it to be… I’m ending this.

My Promise To You.

i will love you forever. with or without the cancer. and i'm going to be by your side through the rest of the battle, from here on out. this i promise you. and by your side is right where i intend to stay.

Love Is.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
 Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
 Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
 That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
 Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
 Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
 But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
 I never writ, nor no man ever loved.



William Shakespeare

Think.

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, yet more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things. We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; big men and small character; steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce; fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember to say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.
Remember to give a warm hug to the one next to you because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Remember to say, "I love you," to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love; give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

Work Obcessed

Work Obsessed by Bucky D
Los Angeles, CA - What is our obsession with work? I hear people who brag about working 50, 60, 70, even 80 hours a week. They brag not because they're proud, they brag because they're trying to one-up someone else who is talking about a difficult job. We tie our identities into what we do for a living. We say things like, "I'm a technician" or, "I'm an accountant" or, "I'm a salesperson". Our definitions of who we are are what we do. When we meet a new person, we invariably ask, "So, what do you do for a living?" We are consumed by our jobs and our careers.
We put up with behaviors from our co-workers and superiors that we would never tolerate from friends and use the excuse, "Well, they pay my salary," to justify our subjugation, yet grumble every moment we have away from the workplace, engaging in the afore-mentioned "Oh, yeah, well where I work…" game with our friends and families. We view others who don't work as much as us with a certain level of disdain and those who don't work at all with a level of contempt on par with our contempt for thieves.
We carry our cell phones and on our time off are expected to take calls from work to discuss work. We receive emails from work on our time off and are expected to respond to those emails on our time off. We say, "Well, I'm a salaried employee so I guess they can expect this from me." We martyr ourselves to our jobs in the hopes that someone will recognize us for our unflagging devotion to our work, yet that recognition never comes. Still, we continue to sacrifice in the hopes that one day….
Taking time off for illness or recuperation is viewed as a weakness. If we become ill ourselves, we fear losing our jobs so we continue to work even at the risk of infecting others or worsening our own condition. When a family member is seriously ill or dying, we feel guilty for leaving work behind to be with them and return to our jobs 2 days after losing a loved one and are expected to do our jobs as if nothing has happened. No one wants to see or feel your grief at the risk of making them uncomfortable.
We expect stores to be open on holidays so if we forget an item, we can make that quick trip to the store. We seem to forget that someone will have to give up that holiday so we can buy the cranberry sauce we forgot. Why did we forget the cranberry sauce? We were so consumed with work we forgot to get it on the way home from work. We have no empathy for the employee working at the store on these holidays yet would be furious if asked to give up the same holiday for our boss.
We suffer from stresses, anxieties, rages, depressions and myriad other illnesses and conditions. We figure the best way to deal with this is to immerse ourselves in our work, never wondering if our obsession with overworking ourselves might be the cause.
Why don't we learn to relax a little?
Bucky is an author at The West Virginia Blogger.
Article Source: EzineArticles.com