You can love someone you mistrust.
Love as a verb. Love as a commitment.
It’s like Brad Pitt for us. You might not like blond men with pretty features, but c’mon, it’s Brad. You’re not going to kick him out of bed for eating crackers.
How different this moment feels, for so many reasons. I tell myself that no two loves are identical – but that I don’t have to compare anymore.
And without Dex in my life, I like to think I could have somehow found contentment. But the truth is, I feel freer with Dex than I ever did when I was single. I feel more myself with him than without. Maybe true love does that.
I feel freer with Dex than I ever did single, I feel more myself with him than without maybe true love does that.
No scratch the word “career”. Careers are people who wish to advance. I only want to survive, draw a paycheck. This is merely a job. I can take or leave this place. I start to imagine quitting and following my yet-to-be-determined passion.
It’s not that simple or clear-cut – and I wonder if it ever is when it comes to matters of the heart.
Like the perfect beach vacation, where the routine is so blissfully uneventful that when you return home and friends ask how your trip was, you can’t really recall what exactly you did to fill up so many hours. That’s what being with Dex is like.
T know what they say about secrets. I’ve heard it all. That they can haunt and govern you. That they can poison relationships and divide families. That in the end, only the truth will set you free.
I just think that I screwed up what could have turned into a more significant relationship, or at least a lasting friendship.
It’s a metaphor for life. If sports don’t matter, then life doesn’t matter.
Love is the sum of our choices, the strength of our commitments, the ties that bind us together.
So I guess what I’m trying to say is that life is fast. And it keeps speeding up. Sometimes I lose track of the season – or even the year. And we just have to make the best of it all. Our choices. Our fleeting moments together.
Love made things feel precarious, and, when you got right down to it, everything in life was tenuous and fleeting and ultimately tragic.
It’s always a good feeling when you can produce just the right one-liner to prove your point so tidily.
I’m not saying it’s healthy to be past-obsessed, ferreting out details of every ex. But it’s simply human nature to have an occasional, fleeting interest in someone whom you once loved.
That although I love Nick, on most days I don’t think he lassoed the moon.
Still, I don’t like his use of the word fine. I want to be better than fine.
Too often in our culture of BlackBerrys and cell phones, people are disengaged and disconnected and distracted from their immediate surroundings.