<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969623300654862857</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:23:16.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex and the Country</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sexinthe_country</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13045316404736606137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969623300654862857.post-4259423821638692779</id><published>2008-04-18T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T20:09:12.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not so Happy Endings*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'd walk that distance, I'd run to you...if you promise to catch me when I fall."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;After watching two of the most hautingly accurate and devestating romances I've ever seen, I feel slightly jaded. In both, the protagonist (of course, female), falls devestatingly in love with the man who drives her crazy, but ends up being perfect for her. After passionate embraces and terrible circumstances they end up coming so close to being together...and are them pulled apart for good by external circumstances. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;In &lt;em&gt;Becoming Jane&lt;/em&gt;, the saddest part was probably that it was the true story of this great novelist's life. After reading several of her novels, I could only conclude that she had a great imagination, or a wonderful marriage. In truth, it was neither. Well, she did have a great imagination, but she drew from her own experience of heartbreak. The difference being that the characters in her novel's love stories end happily. Austen ended up alone with her pen. Not that such a thing isn't commendable, and perhaps if it wasn't for her heartbreak we wouldn't have her wonderful work. But...knowing she was never with the only man she ever loved breaks my heart. The fact is, this is reality for many. Unrequited love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Take my grandmother for example. She was married to an alcoholic and had 6 children with him. I've heard from the own woman's mouth that she never loved him, and that she's still looking for her soulmate. She is 75 years-old. Is to live with no great love tragic, or plain circumstance? I want to believe we all have someone out there for us, but that's impossible when I open my eyes and become a realist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;So should we grab on to loose ends? Should Austen have married the suiter who was wealthy? Should my grandmother have married again simply out of duty? Certainly not. Austen should be commended for still living her life and becoming such a celebrated author. I should praise my grandmother for being so independant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A part of me is still sad for them. I want to be independant and celebrated for my accomplishments. But it is possible to fall in love witht he right man and have the life I want? Maybe no one ever gets the life they want...not entirely. Is it wrong to still want to fall in love like the movies? To demand chivalry and passion? AND to want my own life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I suppose all I can do is wait. But let's hope I'm still not waiting when I'm 75.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969623300654862857-4259423821638692779?l=hereyeslightup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/feeds/4259423821638692779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969623300654862857&amp;postID=4259423821638692779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/4259423821638692779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/4259423821638692779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/2008/04/not-so-happy-endings.html' title='Not so Happy Endings*'/><author><name>sexinthe_country</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13045316404736606137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969623300654862857.post-2344741033289590144</id><published>2008-03-20T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T21:14:06.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>you give me fever...*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;All around me people are in the midst of a terrible, heart-wrenching, hormone-escalating fever. It's infecting everyone around me, and I dare say I may have caught it myself. Symptoms include diziness, light-headedness, heartburn, anxiety and delusion. Ladies and gentlemen...enter &lt;strong&gt;spring fever&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;True, my front yard still looks like a frozen tundra. Nevertheless, we might as well all be wearing bikinis and minis for all the heat that's surrounding the two sexes lately. My normally rational best friend is sliding between the sheets with an ex purely for sexual satisfaction. Another friend has started dating a guy she knows is completely wrong for her, and my confident best guy friend is head over heels for a girl he barely knows. As for myself...I swear I can't look at a decent-looking male without my pulse quickening pretty damn rapidly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Alright, alright. I'm betting you're thinking that the previous examples are far from original, and that hormones are always raging. However, I don't think I've noticed such heat and smoke in awhile. Everyone seems agitated stuck inside when we all want to be sauntering down the street without worrying about hat hair or how much bulk our coats add. And let's face it...it's time for the Uggs to retire for the season. We're dying to peel off the layers, show some skin, and get that fabulous sun-kissed glow. No to mention sit on the patio with a drink and contemplate the finer species...mmmm:) With the weather sadly lagging behind our hormone levels, I sincerely ask the following question: Are our hearts out of sync with the seasons?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Case in point: the darling friend mentioned earlier. The boy has relatively good taste, I must say, and the chosen girl is nothing short of amazing. The thing is, he just narowly escaped  diving headfirst into a huge relationship mistake, and is afraid of commiting the same sin twice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;As women, we're almost trained to doubt good-looking, smooth-talking men. This one however, just might be geunine. He positively &lt;strong&gt;raves&lt;/strong&gt; about this new girl. And I might add, barely discusses the physical aspect. Normally any hot-blooded male would be the first to try and get a girl in bed, but this one thinks waiting might be better. He's got plans for dates, and high hopes for the future. So what's the problem? God knows if his prince-ss charming feels the same way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;As a mutual friend, and witness, I would have to say she does. And although I continue to encourage his effots, one thought seems to keep penetrating his thoughts: "What if she's sending me mixed signals?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;True. New Girl is sweet and adorable and everything, but we all know any girl can be manipulative for their own reasons. Sure, she gives him a sultry stare and hints at her feelings, &lt;strong&gt;BUT&lt;/strong&gt; how can he really be sure of her intentions? The answer: he can't be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;The boys needs to take a leap. Sure, he may get his heart stomped on, but it would be nothing more than a lesson learned. Yes, the girl may seem perfect, but there's always a reason for everything. However, she could also be thrilled at his admission and admit to feeling the exact same way. So does he prepare himself for the worst, or expect the best?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;It's a question I'm sure we've all asked ourslves a million time - do we take the plunge, or stay on shore? I've never been one to make drastic, spontaneous decisions, or even to admit feelings that might present me as naieve or weak, buuuut... secretly I would love nothing more than to be the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;If you don't speak up and stand up, nothing will be heard, and nothing will change. In order to even have a chance at getting what you want, you have to risk everything. In the end, the consequences are the same whether you win, lose or draw. You will come out either way with an answer and action plan. And both results will give you a feeling of steadiness, even if it's not the best result. At least you will be able to take pride in the fact that you put yourself out there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;So there might not be a cure for spring fever, and god knows this is just the begining, but I say embrace those raging hormones. Act on your instinct and go for what you want. After all, we need to keep warm somehow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969623300654862857-2344741033289590144?l=hereyeslightup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/feeds/2344741033289590144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969623300654862857&amp;postID=2344741033289590144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/2344741033289590144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/2344741033289590144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-give-me-fever.html' title='you give me fever...*'/><author><name>sexinthe_country</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13045316404736606137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969623300654862857.post-5753763106138085891</id><published>2008-02-24T22:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T22:59:42.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>give it away, i don't want it anymore*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Is loneliness the human condition? Because if it is, I am utterly and undeniably human. This past week has been utter single-girl HELL. After reading about my friend-with-benefit guy from May, Isuppose I should feel slightly lighter. After a much needed severance, I finally let it all go about a month ago. I was doing pretty well to be honest, until this week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;May be it's the bone-chilling cold, or the insomnia...but either way waking up with my arms empty has become way too familiar. I should be proud of myself for summoning up the courage to move the hell on, but I feel, like so many men and women, trapped in a double bind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;If I throw away the benefits, I lose the friend, inevitably. And I miss the friend. Or maybe it's the benefits I miss. Either way, I miss him. It makes me feel weak, fragile, and all the things modern-day-women shouldn't have to feel. Instead if feeling strong and in control, I'm a miserable wreck. I can't seem to watch a damn television drama, or hear a song on the radio without it relating to my life. It's getting to the point where even going to bed has become a chore, because all I can think of it whether or not calling him is the biggest mistake I could make.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;When did analyzing become my enemy? I used to think that if I thought things through well enough, I would always come to the right conclusion. Now I'm finding the more I think and the less I act, the more confused I seem to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;What a mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969623300654862857-5753763106138085891?l=hereyeslightup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/feeds/5753763106138085891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969623300654862857&amp;postID=5753763106138085891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/5753763106138085891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/5753763106138085891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/2008/02/give-it-away-i-dont-want-it-anymore.html' title='give it away, i don&apos;t want it anymore*'/><author><name>sexinthe_country</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13045316404736606137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969623300654862857.post-8904374897804692854</id><published>2007-05-15T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T20:56:25.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>friends with...benefit?*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"There’s nothing you can do or say, you’re gonna break my heart anyway, but leave the pieces as you go."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;-"Leave the Pieces"&lt;/em&gt; The Wreckers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not happy with the male species lately. I know that’s really nothing new, but I’ve discovered a new kind of disapointment with them lately. Mostly, fidelity, commitment and their lack of both are driving me insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, with my own personal issue. I suppose it is my fault after all for letting myself get sucked back into sleeping with a "friend". If I realized one lesson in my friends-with-benefits experience it was that the friends title often falls away, and while you may be left with benefits(and damn good ones at that), you’ve lost the reason why you got so comfortable and close in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever connection you had as friends has pretty much ceased to exist, at least in the situation. I’ve also hit another bump in the road, or a question I need to examine, as it’s not only been puzzling me, but other ladies around me, and I think I need to give it some sort of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why oh why, when one decides that casual dating is better than a relationship, are we punished into having to change the decision we’ve made? It used to seem that casually seeing someone, or casually sleeping with someone seemed to be the easy way out. This choice is supposed to give you more freedom, it’s supposed to relieve you of the agonizing overanalyzing and the drama that inevitably comes with a relationship. So why, all of a sudden did the tables turn? I still look at my coupled friends and cringe with slight disgust, and at the same time admire their endurance for being with the same people, and fighting the same fights day in and day out. But when did the single girls begin to share the same ugly drama that is supposed to be left for the girls in relationships? &lt;strong&gt;IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE EASIER TO BE SINGLE!!&lt;/strong&gt; At least, this was my notion, and perhaps my justification for not getting seriously involved with someone. We were supposed to be the girls with no strings, the ones the practically married friends looked at and said "You make me wish I was still single." All of a sudden it seems as though being single has become as complicated as dating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non-dating has all of a sudden sprouted fangs and is becoming as threatening as being committed to someone. It’s become a vortex of complicated awkwardness, second-guessing and constantly worrying and wondering about what’s going to happen next. It starts off simple enough, a one-night stand, or a movie and drinks. All of a sudden we realize that there’s some spark, some interest, some sense of possibility, and that’s when we lose it. Our grip on singledom loosens, and we start to fantasize about what things could be like if this one-night stand turned into a three or four night stay, and what if drinks turned into breakfast in bed. We become so obsessed with the idea that something more than what we went looking for is going to be better than our intial desire, that we forget that all we wanted was something casual. We decided to take time off to re-discover ourselves, shop around for what we liked best, and then because we’re lonely or deluded by good cologne and nice shoes, we dive headfirst into wanting something more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden our composure is gone, our single-girl skills plummet, and thenwe’re obsessing over every missed phone call, or cancelled plan...just like our friends in relationships. If the night doesn’t end well, or we hear some kind of rumor, we grab the Ben and Jerry’s and analyze what went wrong. One, two and three, and the fun is being drained out, and the confusion is being pumped in. We stop and think to ourselves "This is wrong, I shouldn’t be so upset over this guy. I don’t even want to be in a relationship right now." But we cannot help but overanalyze, and because we don’t want the guy to feel the need to bolt at the mention of any kind of commitment, we refuse to discuss how we’re feeling. Eventually we bottle up all the little things and unleash them all at once to an unsuspecting male who thought that the whole thing was just about having fun. And it was at the beginning...wasn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how to avoid the pitfalls of single "fun"? I havn’t quite figured that out yet. Maybe the key is to not have a wishy-washy notion of things when you decide to go on the date, or take a guy home. Figure out what you really want, and if this guy is worth the time you’ll be spending thinking about him. Because chances are you’re just looking for the next person to love, and who loves you back, because after all, this is why we date in the first place. We all want to find that person we really want mentally, physically and emotionally, and settling for half or a third of something never does anyone any good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess we all need to re-examine why we’re single. If it’s because we think we’re happier that way, is there really a point to dating or having a friend with benefits? Ultimately, it will end up complicated, and maybe even more so than being in a relationship, because no one feels like they have the right to deal with the conversation that must always be had. And if you’re single because you’re looking for the next relationship, let me tell you…a friend with benefits is not going to help you find Mr. Right, because the guy who is only giving you part of what you need, will never fully satisfy you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969623300654862857-8904374897804692854?l=hereyeslightup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/feeds/8904374897804692854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969623300654862857&amp;postID=8904374897804692854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/8904374897804692854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/8904374897804692854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/2007/05/friends-withbenefit.html' title='friends with...benefit?*'/><author><name>sexinthe_country</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13045316404736606137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969623300654862857.post-3017818037394376567</id><published>2007-05-15T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T20:49:19.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mr. wrong*</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;(from my old blog)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like time just ticks on by, and really, does the so-called master of time really care whether or not I get to write? Probably not. But it really would be nice if I did have more time for such things. Anyways, the other day I seemed pretty motivated, which is nice, but unfortunately, the mood doesn’t strike so much today, and I’ll have to wait until another ambitious day to record my long term goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been thinking a lot about life lessons lately, and how no matter how hard you tell yourself to stick to them, sometimes it seems almost impossible. Take the stupid male situation I find myself in time after time, and thinking about, even though I &lt;strong&gt;REALLY&lt;/strong&gt; know I should find more productive things to waste my thoughts on. Anyways…I know this guy isn’t right for me…he has zero ambition (but is it because no one ever encouraged, or believed in him?), he smokes WAY too much pot (but is it to escape the loneliness he feels?), and to make matters much, MUCH worse, he cheated on his girlfriend with me, and had absolutely no problem with it! If I hadn’t of found out, he probably never would have fessed up. He wasn’t sorry he did it, he was sorry he got caught. And apparently he’s cheated on her more than once. So really, all basic instinct (not to mention practical fact and experience), say that once a cheater, always a cheater. How could I ever trust him? I mean really…why do I bother to continue to dwell on such a hopeless guy, who seems incapable of ever growing up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a question that I’m willing to bet everyone has asked themselves at least once in their lives. Why dwell on the impossible, the unattainable, or simply Mr. Wrong? Why do we go for the bad boy, or the commitment-phoebe? I guess I really have no answer, except that maybe we see it as some kind of challenge. "Well, yes, sure he doesn’t want a serious girlfriend…that’s because he hasn’t found the right one…and I COULD be the right one if I try hard enough, right?" Probably wrong. Guys rarely change…and even if they do change, who says you would want to be with this transformed male anyways? You fell for the guy you were trying to improve, not the one who has cured his phobias and turned into a completely decent guy. To us, that’s boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a mystery to me really…we fight to get what we want, and chase after it for what seems like forever, but once we can hold it in the palm of our hands, upon closer examination we often see that it isn’t really what we want anyway. Or if it is, they seem to notice that we are not what THEY want, and nevertheless something changes. I wouldn’t necessarily say end, because if that were true, the divorce rate would be much higher than it already is. I suppose some people learn to cope with this feeling. They decide that although the person they find themselves with may not be exactly what they wanted in the first place, it has become so comfortable, or they’ve fallen so in love with the IDEA of love that they learn to adapt. They grow with the person, and perhaps by understanding and accepting this person’s changes, they other person is able to accept theirs as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So bringing it all full circle, maybe it really IS worth going after what seems like the impossible. But really, I’m the one caught in the middle of the problem, so although I can try to examine it from a million angles, and attempt to make sense of it all, it still doesn’t change the fact that I look towards the wrong kind of people to satisfy what I want in a guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s something I can see: untouchable qualities that only some magical guy will possess. Some kind of ability to think about ME and not another girl. Be independent, and understand my need to be as well, but just not be able to stop thinking about me. Of course he has to have all the surface things as well, charming, sweet, charismatic, all that great stuff, but the basis of his greatness will be that he really GETS me. He understands me, and my insecurities. He wouldn’t play them up; in fact he wouldn’t play any games at all. He would be straight up about his feelings for me, and make a genuine effort if I tried to resist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can’t wait for him to show up…because frankly, I’m sick of thinking about the bad guys. Of course, I guess they will only make his arrival (no matter how late), all the sweeter.&lt;br /&gt;♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969623300654862857-3017818037394376567?l=hereyeslightup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/feeds/3017818037394376567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969623300654862857&amp;postID=3017818037394376567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/3017818037394376567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/3017818037394376567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/2007/05/mr-wrong.html' title='mr. wrong*'/><author><name>sexinthe_country</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13045316404736606137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969623300654862857.post-8783446265088318626</id><published>2007-05-15T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T20:43:54.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>at the beginning*</title><content type='html'>So, here I am, deciding to start writing again. Maybe it seems strange that I’m "starting" to write…I would like to believe that I never really stopped, but in truth, I did. I’m not sure why. I could use excuses like lack of time or something similarly trivial, but in fact, everyone should make time for their passion, and writing is mine. (Note to self: consider using less commas, ha.)&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of those off-the-map kind of days. I guess it all started with my dream last night about going back to London. For some weird reason I thought that it was going to make me happy to go back and rebuild the bridges I seem to have burned since I left. Only problem was that even after I moved back and fixed everything, I still wasn’t happy. I guess I awoke thinking that I may never be. But now, after analyzing things more clearly, I see that’s just ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life isn’t always about fixing your mistakes, or rebuilding what you’ve broken, because things are broken for reasons, and we make mistakes to learn from them. It shouldn’t necessarily mean that we have to right every wrong we’ve ever committed. Although it does often feel good to tackle things that have been bothering you for so long, once you gather the strength to do it, things seem so easy, and you get mad at yourself for not doing it sooner.&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I need to rationalize that I don’t always need to go back to mistakes, or regrets and &lt;strong&gt;DO&lt;/strong&gt; something about them. Sometimes they just exist purely as memories, or life lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, before I forget, I’d better jot down the other thing that contributed to my random day; my psychic reading. Firstly, let me describe the young man who read my future. (It all sounds so mystic, but strangely, I almost felt like I was watching a movie of my life, and not from a crystal ball) He was huge and gothic, and best of all, gay. Not that being gay has to be with being great, but it certainly added to his character. He has these piercing blue eyes that, although it sounds horribly cliché, really bore into my soul. He was so kind and gentle, and genuinely concerned, that it was impossible not to feel connected to him right away. When he held my hands, and painted a picture of what was to come before me, I got completely swept into it all, and really began to visualize what he was saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I guess all of this leads to why I’m writing, or trying to. One of the main things he said was that writing was my passion, my career, and my purpose. I need to use it as a tool of communication. I think I forgot how much I truly love it, and not just for the bountiful pleasures it brings, like stress relief or organization of my thoughts, but for something more. It satisfies an unbelievable craving to get the words and ideas out of my head, and onto something legible that makes some sort of sense. It’s almost a basic need of mine, and when he presented it as part of my future, something inside me lit up and remembered how satisfying it is to simply &lt;em&gt;WRITE&lt;/em&gt;. It doesn’t have to be some literary masterpiece, or suspenseful page-turner, it just has to touch someone, somewhere, and let them know that they are not alone in the way they think about, and see the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also reassured me that I would fall madly in love. I must confess, this was probably my favorite part of the reading, other than the resurrection of my love for the written word. He said I’ve always wanted that intense, movie screen kind of love, and that he senses I’ve given up on it (which in reality, I have). He said that within the year, any doubts I have about love will disappear because I will meet my soulmate. The one I will fall for, and never get up from. Apparently I don’t know him, we havn’t met, but when we do, he’ll be wearing red. Hmmm…I love red. I can’t wait for it to happen. Even if it’s not exactly as he describes, I just want to fall in love. I guess it’s another basic primal need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden all of these ideas are popping into my head for stories, and I’m going to have to shut them off if I’m ever going to get any sleep. For now, since this is the start of something new, I’m going to make some goals, predictions, and inventory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Five Things I am Thankful For&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;My family. I’m so glad I got the opportunity to realize how much they really do mean to me.&lt;br /&gt;My friends. Whether or not they screw me over, or drive me insane, I know that at the end of the day they’re there. To have fun, to make me smile, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;Moving away, and moving back home. Both decisions were huge, and both altered the course of my life in a million different ways. But I had to leave to experience it, and I had to come back to live happily. But both taught me valueable lessons.&lt;br /&gt;My personality. Although I’m as flawed as the next person, I know that deep down, I try my best. I may not always be amazing, but I certainly want to try and be the best I can be. So maybe, in actuality, I’m thankful for my conscience.&lt;br /&gt;My weaknesses. Because they remind me that I am human, and that I can always improve on things. Life would be boring if we were already perfect by the age of three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Five Things I Want to Do in 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a healthy relationship with a guy. It doesn’t matter if it’s friendship or intimate, just no more crappy, indecisive losers with no goals or ambition.&lt;br /&gt;Really do what I want to do. This may mean saying "no" more often, or saying "yes". Whatever it means, I need to keep living my life for me and no one else.&lt;br /&gt;Be healthier. I guess this is a lot of things, but I want to be the person who has glowing skin, and can run up stairs without loosing breath. Whether I loose weight or drink more water or sleep better, I just want to feel good.&lt;br /&gt;Keep writing.&lt;br /&gt;Become independent and self-sufficient. Meaning money-wise, and responsibility wise. I want to kick butt at my job too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Goals, goals and more goals. Sometimes I think that's all we ever need to get us from one stage of our lives to the next. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969623300654862857-8783446265088318626?l=hereyeslightup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/feeds/8783446265088318626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969623300654862857&amp;postID=8783446265088318626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/8783446265088318626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969623300654862857/posts/default/8783446265088318626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hereyeslightup.blogspot.com/2007/05/at-beginning.html' title='at the beginning*'/><author><name>sexinthe_country</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13045316404736606137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
