No Guarantees

Now burgeoning on the age of thirty-nine I have to ask myself why I’m still a single, unmarried woman. Over the course of my adult life I have had ample opportunities to connect with men in an effort to progress the relationship to a more permanent status–marriage. Nevertheless, not one of my previous relationships has yielded the outcome I’ve desired for countless years. My “current situation” has left me perplexed, a little bitter, and somewhat reluctant to try again.

After each failed attempt at a lasting love I take the time to reflect over my actions with the hopes of finally achieving the “eureka” moment where the light bulb comes on and my life is forever changed because I now know the malaise that has kept me from obtaining what I so longingly desire—a permanent love connection with a man. But that hasn’t been my truth because I keep finding myself pacing around the same tree.

Just recently the man that I had been dating (with the intent of progressing the relationship to something permanent) broke up with me. No, this wasn’t the first time a man had dumped me, but that certainly didn’t make the loss any less traumatic. You see, when I met him I had plans to leave the country. I was on my way to Dubai because there was nothing and no one (male counterpart) keeping me here. And while I will admit that I didn’t expect to catch feelings for him, I didn’t stop myself from doing so. With each passing day and the interactions that ensued, I soon found myself falling for him—something I hadn’t done in nearly four years. My lack of falling for a man wasn’t so much about my lack of desire, as it was about my lack of connectivity with the men with which I had been interacting. At any rate, after falling for this man I made the decision that the possibility of love with him here was more enticing than the opportunity to live and work abroad. I soon contacted the director of the institution for which I planned to work and was subsequently released from my contract. Later that day I sent the following email to the man for whom I had recently fallen.

In just a short time you have captivated my heart. You awoke something inside me—the possibility of love. I have been in search of love all my life and it has always seemed to elude me. And when I had all but given up on the possibility, you walked into my life. You’ve ignited a passion inside me—a passion to love fully, completely and without condition. I am not asking anything of you, but that you are invested in building a future. I’m not interested in just “dating”; I want to try and build something permanent. I am aware that there are no guarantees when it comes to love, but I can guarantee that if I stay, you have my heart and my full attention. I want to stay because my heart is with you. I want to stay because the possibility of love is much more enticing than leaving this country. I want to stay…because I want you.

Now, before you cast judgment, let’s consider a thing or three. Some people might think that my decision to stay was rash and foolish.   To some degree I would concur with those individuals. Still others might consider my decision to be nostalgically romantic. And to those individuals I too would agree to an extent. Nevertheless, at the end of the day I have to embrace the decision that was made and move forward without regret(s). After all, I did state in the email to my beloved that “I am aware that there are no guarantees when it comes to love…I want to stay because the possibility of love is much more enticing than leaving this country.” Like the lyrics in the Chico Debarge song “No Guarantee”, I was essentially saying, “But I know exactly what I wanna do/I wanna make this work with you, yeah…[but] Nothing in life is guaranteed”. I knew what I was getting myself into; I knew that the relationship (which was relatively new) wasn’t destined to last. But I took the chance on him, and I took a chance on love because I wanted love more than I wanted the job opportunity.  And maybe the idea of taking a chance at love, instead of closing my heart, wasn’t such a bad decision to make after all. In the end every experience (blissful and/or sorrowful) teaches us something.

While the sting of the loss is new, there is a sense of peace that I currently feel because I am respecting his wishes and I have left him alone. I will not lie to you, or myself, and say that I don’t want him back; I do. But I refuse to be one of those women who won’t let go. I will not be one of those women who makes every attempt to insert herself into a man’s life because the idea of living without him is greater than the idea of once again being alone. Besides I’ve already tried to convince him otherwise and that failed attempt didn’t dissuade him to change his mind. Yeah, that’s right. I shed tears; I begged and pleaded for him to reconsider, and at the end of the day (yesterday in fact) he didn’t budge, so I walked out of his residence licking my wounds. After I had finally calmed down, I resolved in my spirit to seek God’s face and to give the man that I love space to determine if a life without me is better than a life with me.

Again, here is what I’ve chosen to do. I’ve chosen to dry my eyes and seek the face of God. The irony in all this is that I’ve been on the run from God because I couldn’t understand how the last man I’d fallen for could end an eighteen-month relationship with me, and just three weeks later propose to another woman. Crazy right? Yes, that’s my “ish”. Anywho, here I am (ironically) running to the face of God for solace–once again because of yet another disappointing attempt at lasting love.

However, here is the conclusion I have drawn from this last disappointing outcome. I know; wait for it! Yes, I have finally reached a point where an epiphany of sorts has entered my cranium. The light bulb is vibrant and brilliant. And the crowd collectively sighs! Nearly every time a man has shown interest in me I lose my head. I never stop to consult God about the man’s intentions or whether he would be good for me and not just good to me. Never have I stopped and prayed for discernment before I got wrapped up in the moment, in the man. Yep, that’s right. History has shown that I lose all sense of control when a man expresses interest and I reciprocate his interest. Worse still, I fold into a nice little napkin that he can trample over. I get so caught up in the idea of love and a lasting relationship that I become the proverbial doormat. Instead of maintaining my rough exterior, I melt and turn into this woman who will do whatever it takes to make the relationship profitable. I stop being inherently who I am—the fiercely outspoken and independent woman because I want to cast aside the stain of being a super-single (thirty-eight year old woman who has never been engaged or married).

Despite my formal education, I have been stuck on stupid (SOS). I recognize that relationships are work. I get the fact that nothing is promised to last forever. But I want to embark upon a relationship that defies the mundane. Perhaps I am delusional about the prospect of a lasting love where two people respect each other and make a conscious decision, each day, to work together instead of separately. I thought I had been doing that with each relationship, but maybe I wasn’t. Perhaps I was deluding myself into believing that I was making conscious attempts at working in tandem with each man for whom I had fallen. The last man I fell for said that the decisions I made lacked the consideration of his feelings. I countered that his decisions and plans rarely, if ever, did the same.

I’ve tried to rationalize my actions as well as his. But nothing seems to matter because one of us got fed up to the point that it seemed best to walk away. I want to believe that he’ll come to his senses and realize that despite the bad we experienced there was more good to latch onto, and he’ll come back to me. I am not going to hold my breath waiting. I am going to get myself together so that the next time a man shows interest I don’t lose sight of God. I will use discernment and wisdom to determine if he is for me or for someone else.

Undoubtedly, I’ve been charged to “…not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of my mind [to God’s word]—Romans 12:2

A Woman’s Worth

Mental Toiling:

Today, a girlfriend of mine sent me a link to a recent blog post titled, “Why BEAUTIFUL WOMEN who want COMMITment will NEVER be ASKED on a REAL DATE, but a stripper will”.  I was immediately intrigued by the title and could hardly wait to get off work so that I could figure out what the brother, Ebrahim Aseem, had to say.

I must admit; the brother posed some great points that I wholeheartedly agree with.

·       Loyal women are old-fashioned; they love to be pursued.

·       Inconsistency is a turn off to a loyal woman.

·       Once you get a woman’s number, don’t use it exclusively to text her; use it primarily to call her.

·       The sign of a mentally mature man is one who can commit to something, commit to a major, commit to a career, commit to a creative discipline and commit to a loyal woman, respectively.

Aseem’s statements are valid. I will admit to being old-fashioned—to a degree.  I’m old-fashioned in the sense that I want to be pursued.  I don’t believe I should be calling a man on the regular trying to get his attention or attempt to steal his attention away from another woman. If a man isn’t calling me then I take it as I sign that he isn’t all that interested in me.  And no, texting me on the regular doesn’t count. Likewise, consistency will get you everything and everywhere.  Inconsistency will get you nowhere.  And that’s a two-way street.  My loyalties run deep when I know that I’ve captured a man’s heart, but there is nothing worse than not being consistent and not being a man of your word.  I’m sure is true for women on the part of men.

Yes, texting is a form of communication. However, texting should not be a man’s primary means for communicating with a woman he is interested in—that’s the old-fashioned coming out.  I want to have conversations—not textversations.  Talking allows for both parties to capture tone and mood. I prefer to not have to read between the lines when communicating.  Besides, there is something alive in talking.  Texting is so flat.

Then, there is this business of commitment. I made a comment yesterday that I’m constantly being stereotyped as the “Angry Black Woman” and all I keep running into is the “Commitment-Phobic Black Man”.  I don’t like being angry; I actually do like smiling and being jovial. And I want more than anything to believe that there are still single men out there who aren’t afraid to commit.

Epiphany #1

And then there was the intriguing post a friend posted the following on a popular social media platform last week.

“Interesting conversation on the Kane Show this morning. At what age/time does a woman stop dating bad boys/jerks and start giving the nice guys a chance? And at what age/time does a bad boy/jerk grow up and start acting more mature and considerate?”

My response was, “That is a great question . . . I think we (men and women) finally come to the realization that we deserve more than what we’ve been settling for and at that point we see the inherent goodness a person (man/woman) brings to the table . . . Let’s be confident old(er) women who know their worth!”

Epiphany #2

And then there was the recent expression of “interest” from a man I would normally never give the time of day.  Out of nowhere a gentleman complimented me on my energy and then asked if it would be possible to contact me sometime.

Normally I wouldn’t give my number to a man that I’m not in some way physically attracted to, but something inside me decided that perhaps it’s time to invest in male-female friendships that are purely platonic. While I’m not exactly sure what this man’s intentions are, I do plan to find out soon enough.

Recent epiphanies and mental toiling have led me into a different headspace—to Alicia Keye’s “A Woman’s Worth”.

She starts . . .

You could buy me diamonds
You could buy me pearls
Take me on a cruise around the world
Baby, you know I’m worth it

Personally, I don’t need, nor have I ever, requested diamonds or pearls.  But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t graciously accept either or both as a gift. And a man could most assuredly take me on a cruise around the world, but again, I am not a woman who would expect such a kind offering.  And perhaps that’s why I’ve never been offered the diamonds, pearls, or cruise around the world. Truth be told, I wouldn’t know how to act in response given the fact that a man has never been so generous. But again, that doesn’t mean I would be averse to the idea.  At this point in my life I think I have finally come to the realization that I am deserving of much more than what I’ve been accepting.  Alicia Keye’s was on to something back in the day and I’ve finally seen the light.

She adds . . .

Dinner lit by candles
Run my bubble bath
Make love tenderly to last and last
Baby, you know I’m worth it

The thought of a candle-lit dinner sounds romantic and long overdue.  I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying a bubble bath drawn by the man I love on only two occasions. And those two occasions bring a smile to my face and warmth to my heart.  My heart yearns to be romanced again—to be pursued, to be desired for more than the treasure betwixt my thighs.  And yes, I’m beginning to believe I’m worth it—worth being appreciated, adored, pursued, and/or called instead of being sent texts.

And then . . .

Wanna please, wanna keep
Wanna treat your woman right
Not just dough, better show
That you know she is worth your time

You will lose if you choose
To refuse to put her first
She will and she can
Find a man who knows her worth

There is so much truth to these last two verses. I am a woman who is not afraid to please her man.  My problem has been that I’ve been pleasing men who haven’t been my man. And yes, I want to be treated right; I want to be treated with respect and honesty.  A man can throw around all the money he has, but if he isn’t throwing around his personal time—his quality time, there really isn’t much there between the two of us.  I thrive on quality time and physical touch—a touch that is more sensual than sexual in nature.  I long to be held–to be cradled in a man’s arms.

A number of men have truly lost out on this good woman because they’ve refused to put me first. I’m not saying I have to be at the top of your list every day of the week, but I need to be on your list every day if you want the best of me and from me.  And I’ve not been, nor will I ever be, afraid to walk away from a man who’s clueless about my worth.  Yes, we’ve all heard the adage that “I can do bad all by myself.” The statement is very true.  Personally, I prefer to do good with a good man by my side.  And I’m determined that I will be found by a man who knows my worth.

And . . .

‘Cuz a real man knows a real woman when he sees her
And a real woman knows a real man ain’t afraid to please her
And a real woman knows a real man always come first
And a real man just can’t deny a woman’s worth

Yes!  A real man knows a real woman when he sees her.  And when he sees this real woman he won’t be afraid of me—won’t run from the possibilities of us. And when that real man presents himself I will know that I can please him without fear of him being a “Samsonite Man”.

What’s more . . .

If you treat me fairly
I’ll give you all my goods
Treat you like a real woman should
Baby, I know you’re worth it

If you never play me
Promise not to bluff
I’ll hold it down when shit gets rough
‘Cuz baby, I know you’re worth it

I just want to say that I have no problem giving what I have to a deserving man.  When I’ve been treated with respect and adoration I’ve showered my man with love and devotion.  And yes, I can, and will, hold it down if need be, but that only comes for a man knowing my worth.

Finally . . .

She walks the mile, makes you smile
All the while being true
Don’t take for granted
The passion that she has for you

You will lose if you choose
To refuse to put her first

She will and she can
Find a man who knows her worth, ooh

‘Cuz a real man knows a real woman when he sees her
And a real woman knows a real man ain’t afraid to please her
And a real woman knows a real man always comes first
And a real man just can’t deny a woman’s worth

No need to read between the lines spelled out for you
Just hear this song ‘cuz you can’t go wrong when you value
A woman’s worth
(Woman’s, woman’s, woman’s)

I look forward to the day when a real man recognizes this woman’s worth. But that won’t happen until I’ve fully recognized my own worth.  Recent epiphanies and mental toiling have led me into a different headspace. For far too long I’ve been selling myself short—I’ve been taking what’s been given without expecting more. It’s pretty simple actually. Every woman, including myself, needs to recognize her individual value and worth.  Yes, there may be men out there who would rather play than stay. Yes, there may be men out there who are no more interested in a committing to a woman than they are to scheduling annual preventative doctor’s visits.  But the pool of men will be what it will be regardless of who we are. The players and non-committers will continue to walk the earth, but they shouldn’t negate a woman, this woman, from recognizing her worth. Today, I’m going to “woman up” and have some honest conversations with men from here on out.
‘Cuz a real man knows a real woman when he sees her
And a real woman knows a real man ain’t afraid to please her
And a real woman knows a real man always comes first
And a real man just can’t deny a woman’s worth

Disillusioned? Disenchanted? Or Both?

This is not the life I envisioned for myself.  This is not where I thought I would be at thirty-seven.  This is not who I imagined I would be.

When I was a kid I would spend an exuberant amount of time daydreaming about my adult life (young and dumb).  I dreamed up: kids, a husband, a house . . . an entire life (silly musing).  But what’s strange and eerily unfair is that none of those dreams have become my present reality—not even remotely (hard slap in the face).  There are no kids (blessing and a curse).  There is no husband—not even a committed boyfriend (perhaps the result of my sharp tongue).  The house was foreclosed on in 2008 (bad money management).  Some of you are probably tired of hearing about my still being single after all these years (it’s okay to be honest).  Heck.  I’m tired of talking about it (really, I am).  I’d much rather write about something else, but for some strange and demented reason I am stuck on stupid—in more ways than one (pray for me).  This is my reality and it is far from the dreams of my youth.

Here is my problem—here is why I am stuck on stupid.  I have always been one of those girls who would rather be in a committed relationship, but most of my life I’ve found myself settling for the “table scraps” extended to me from any man who showed me a modicum of attention (daddy issues).  I think it’s time that I stopped believing in fairy tales (my name is not Snow White, Cinderella, or Belle).  There is no such thing as a prince charming—at least not for this girl (do they even make those in the African-American variety?).  I think it’s time that I realized that my life isn’t going to turn out the way I dreamed it up as a child.  Perhaps I am destined to be one of those women who never gets married and never has children (I will not turn into an old cat lady).  Maybe God and the universe have been sending me smoke signals all these years and I’ve been too dense to see them and to accept the reality of my present, my future (I’m thick headed).

When love has evaded you and disappointed you as much as it has for me, your hope begins to diminish and your light begins to fade (if you had any to start out with).  I’m getting to a point in my life where I have accepted that this is as good as it gets (damn!).  I have accepted that I am the perpetual cheerleader for my married friends and family members (I think I still have an old uniform from high school).  It will be my responsibility to remind them to cherish the love and their companions.  As for me, I’m going to have to continue to do for myself because it doesn’t look like any knight in shinning, or dull armor, is coming to rescue me from the castle tower (damn to being independent).  This is my life:  intelligent, attractive, educated, gainfully employed, funny, hard working, sarcastic, dedicated . . . and single.  You may have thought that those first eight adjectives would give a sista a chance—but nope, not this girl (somebody has to end up with the short stick—and I’m short so that seems to make sense).

Disillusioned.  Adjective.  The Merriam-Webster dictionary denotes the following about the word disillusioned (it sounds so dramatic).  Having lost faith or trust in something; disappointed that something is not as good, valuable, true, etc., as it had seemed.  Love has been a series of disappointing moments (my bad—years).  I have discovered that it— a relationship, a commitment, love—is less good than I believed it to be in my childhood.  A man finds me attractive, he pursues me for a time, he loses interest in me, and then he finds another muse or object of attraction (no lie, it’s happened several times over).  The process is repeated and the disillusionment persists and grows.

DisenchantedAdjective.  No longer happy or satisfied with something (according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary).  I am no longer satisfied with my present reality—hoping for a blissful future.  Being repeatedly dismissed no longer makes me happy (it makes me slightly bitter, but dark chocolate is slightly bitter and I love it!  Does that make me a metaphoric piece of dark chocolate?).

I suppose (actually I guarantee) that I am disillusioned and disenchanted.  Disillusioned with love and disenchanted with my reality.  My solution to moving beyond the disillusionment and disenchantment is to live without expectations—for a blissful future filled with the never-ending love of one man (unrelated to me) and kids (besides the ones I teach).  I know it’s a dismal way to live, but it’s safe and hurts less.  At this point in my life I need as little collateral damage as possible (my tender heart has been through hell—literally and figuratively).  No more making plans, no more hoping for a future that will never be (daydreams are for little girls and I haven’t been one of those in a few decades).

This is about living in the moment of each day.  This is about finding satisfaction in being—just as I am.  This is my life!

Alone—All one

There is nothing like a Rom-Com to bring clarity to your life.  Just today I had the pleasure of watching Baggage Claim starring Paula Patton and host of handsome male co-stars.  Much like Patton’s character Montana Moore, I proudly proclaim the title: romantic.  Despite the fact that I have yet to light upon the man who takes my breathe away while also encouraging me to be the best version of me that I can be, I haven’t given up complete hope that he exists and will someday find his way to my heart.  I may be delusional to think that mutual love and commitment can coexist in a “happily ever after” scenario, but I’m okay with that.  I’m okay with it because I refuse to settle for just any man.  I want the man who will fight for me—not literally, but figuratively speaking—fight for my heart, my attention, my affection.  I want the man whose face lights up when he sees me, the man who smiles at the thought of something funny I said and/or did.  I want the man who will love me when I look and feel my worst.  I want the man who isn’t afraid of my strength, the man who will see it as an asset and not a deficit.  I am holding out for the man who is a gentleman—holding upon doors and pulling out my chair.  I am willing to wait for the man who recognizes that I am perfectly imperfect and that is perfectly fine with him.  If such a man exists in human form, I will wait—hope-filled, not hopeless–for him to materialize.  And the following are quotes from the movie that moved me.

“It’s the 21st century; you don’t need a man to define you.” 

–Gail (played by Jill Scott)

Montana’s co-star and on-screen gal-pal Gail, played by Jill Scott, expressed these words in a scene where the two ladies reflect over the thirty-day plan to find Montana a husband (or at least a date to her sister’s wedding).  While Gail’s words are true, many a good woman, myself included, have yet to completely escape the scrutiny of being unmarried and single well into her thirties.  It is as if the unmarried after thirty have been stamped, or worse yet, branded “defective” in the eyes of society.  I will be the first to admit that I have been trying everything humanly possible—just shy of crazy–to keep from remaining single.  But in the last week or so something inside me shifted.  I’m not sure what, why or how it happened, but I started looking at my current circumstance: single, unmarried, and childless from an entirely different set of eyes.  I’ve reached a peace-filled place emotionally and mentally.  Before, I seemed to be on a mission to rid myself of the label: single, unmarried woman.  Now however, I have come to see it as a new start.  Think about it.  How many people can say that they’ve had countless opportunities to start over—again and again?  Starting over used to carry with it a heavy negative stigma, but lately I have come to appreciate the ability to start back at one once more.  This fresh start has given me a chance to reinvent myself, to appreciate me just as I am.  No, I refuse to be defined by having, or in my case, not having a man.  I am my own person.  I am a quirky, fun-loving, animated, passionate, devoted woman.  Yes, I would love to find a mate with which to share my life and love.  But if it never happens I am at peace with being alone—all one—that is, complete and lacking nothing.

“The magic isn’t in getting married; it’s in staying married.”

–William Wright (played by Derek Luke)

Derek Luke who plays William Wright, Montana’s on-screen long-term best friend, and eventual fiancé, shared these words of wisdom with Montana (Patton) on the way to the airport in her first of many failed attempts at reigniting fires with previous love interests.  What I love most about Wright’s words is the staying power that he connotes with the institution of marriage.  Being the romantic individual that I am, I strongly believe in lasting love.  If there is one thing that my failed attempts at love have taught me, it is that I am gritty—I don’t give up easily.  I have fought tooth and nail for the men I have loved.  I have never walked away easily.  It seems that many people get married because of timing: they think it’s the right time or they think their time is running out.  I’ve contemplated both scenarios over the last decade.  In my mid-to-late twenties I thought it was time to get married.  After all, nearly everyone around me was doing it—getting married that is.  And as my early-to-mid thirties came and went, I thought time was running out.  And when one relationship after another failed to develop into marriage I began to feel a sense of desperation take over me.  But life has a way of bringing clarity to you.  I do not take marriage lightly.  To me it is sacred and should be cherished.  If I should marry, and truly I do hope that I do.  It is my hope and prayer that it happens only once and that it lasts a lifetime.  I take my commitments very seriously and marriage is about commitment—a life-long commitment.

“You give me hope that there’s still some good men out there.”

–Montana Moore (played by Paula Patton)

There was a time in my life when I thought the available pool of “good men” had dried up.  Only recently have I changed my thinking.  While I have known a few good men, I do hope that there are at least a few more out there.  No, I’m not greedy.  I just want one for myself and a few for some really great women whom I happen to be friends with.  I know I’m not the last of the thirty-something single, unmarried, and childless clan.  There are many of us out there.  Many of us, despite being intelligent, independent, and attractive, have yet to happen upon the right man, for us that is.  We’ve kissed many a frog over the years, but we haven’t lost hope.  Like Montana’s character, we still believe that our day will come.  We hope against our previous and current circumstances that there is at least one man willing to appreciate us just as we are.  We may not have a thirty-day turn around like the character Montana Moore, but that hasn’t kept us from hoping he will eventually arrive on his noble steed.

“Marriage doesn’t make you a lady anymore than standing in a garage makes you a car.”

–Montana Moore

Even though this is an odd analogy to make, you cannot deny the truth of Montana’s words.  We—the lot of unmarried women—are no less a lady than the rest of the female population because we happen not to have a husband, a fiancé, a committed boyfriend, or even a prospect or two.  Does it take being married to make one a lady?  Does motherhood require giving birth?  I say no to both.  I may not be married, and I may not have birthed any children, but each day that I wake I present myself as a lady and I oftentimes find myself taking on the role of mother at work.

“I did meet somebody that I’ve really been needing to meet, me.”

–Montana Moore

Starting over allows us the privilege of getting to know ourselves again.  When there isn’t anyone else vying for our time, attention, and affection we have the opportunity to love ourselves without condition.  The time alone that we give ourselves is rejuvenating.  When we finally learn to appreciate us, we make way for a refreshing wave of freedom.  When we meet ourselves just as we are, we can appreciate our strengths and limitations.  Etymologically speaking, the word alone is Old English for “al one” or all one—wholly.  Being alone–all one–whole–frees us from buying into the lie that we are less than.  The truth remains that we are complete, whole and lacking nothing.

“I want a lifetime.”

–Montana Moore

Call it greedy; call it whatever you like.  I want a lifetime and I won’t settle for anything less.  I believe that a love can last a lifetime if both individuals maintain the same level of commitment.  All too often however, it seems that one or both individuals opts out—physically and/or emotionally when the going gets tough.  I am not a quitter.  I am a fighter and a lover.  The hope-filled romantic in me won’t settle for anything less than a lifetime.  Truth be told, it may take a lifetime to get what I earnestly desire, and if that’s the case, then I am okay with that.  The bottom line is that we should never settle for less than what our hearts truly desire.   And when we choose not to settle, one day we may have the pleasure of hearing our significant other say . . .

“You could stay awake the rest of your life and you’d still be beautiful to me.”

—Damon Diesel played by Trey Songz

How’s that for romantic?

If you haven’t seen Baggage Claim, you should.  And then we can banter about the quotes that moved you.

Never settle!

A Heart Worth Holding

My heart:

fractured, bruised, and heavy—

longs to be held safely in your hands.

 

“What would you do if I gave you my heart?”

 

Would you toss it aside as a frivolous gift?

Would you cup it in your hands?

Would you throw it back at me?

Would you place it inside a satin-tufted box?

 

Just what would you do if I gave you my heart?

 

I want to trust you with my most precious asset,

I long to share with you every fiber of its contents,

I want to give you my heart because there is something about you that makes me smile.

 

Truth is . . .

 

You entertain my special.

You appreciate my uniqueness.

You ignite my femininity.

You share with me a silliness that makes me beam on the inside and out.

 

I can no longer deny that I want to give you my heart.

 

I want you to take it in your hands and nurture it.

I want you to kiss it and speak gently to it.

I want you to ravage my heart with unconditional love.

 

I need to know that my heart is worth holding.

I have to know that my heart is priceless.

I yearn to know that this heart of mine has value.

 

I am entrusting you with this heart of mine.

I have faith in your holding on tight to my heart.

 

This heart, my heart, I want to give to you.

Will you, could you . . .

Never let go of my heart.