Time, Fleeting Love

This week, we’re asking you to consider things from a different point of view — to walk a mile in someone’s shoes. Leave your moccasins and bunny slippers at the door, and tell us a tale from a fully-immersed perspective that is not your own.

Her:

I still remember the day we met as if it just happened. I can see it replaying in front of my eyes as if I’m watching a movie. I see it. I see it all. Not as if it happened yesterday, but as if it happened minutes ago. I can still see his face as he looked at me and held out his hand. I still remember how he pulled me gently towards him and we began to spin slowly around the room. I assume that I was standing alone by the bar hoping that some handsome young man would ask me to dance. I vaguely remember the song playing and the other dancers around us, but what I really only saw was him. His blue eyes, his dark hair, his smile that reached his eyes and caused a slight crinkle at the edges. I remember his hand on the small of my back as he slowly dipped me and brought me back towards his body. I don’t even remember the shoes I was wearing or the dress I had on. I only remember him. I still remember everything about him.

During our first dance we never even spoke, we simply moved to the music and let our bodies do the talking. I met him for the 2nd time two weeks later at a coffee shop not far from the dance hall.  He stood in the doorway as if transfixed by what he saw. I myself, found it hard to look away. I had, in the deepest depths of my heart, imagined this moment many times. He was on my mind even when I didn’t realize it. He crept in when I least expected it and when I most needed it. But I always reminded myself to be practical about it. There was never really a chance that I would see the beautiful man who took my breathe away with a single glance. After all, I had previously never been so lucky.

But as soon as I saw his face again. As soon as I saw him smile, a smile that I knew was for me and only me, I knew what I may have always known. I loved him. In a fleeting and time consuming way. I had loved him from the very first moment.

Him:

She was unlike anything I had ever seen before. An angel, maybe. But I couldn’t be sure. I had never seen an angel before either. She stood alone by the bar in a long light blue lace dress. She had on dark blue heels that she didn’t look entirely comfortable in. She did, however, look lonely. She head tipped toward her drink but she immediately put it back down with a look of defeat on her dark features. My father told me to never ask a lonely woman to dance. Look for the eager ones. The eager ones will show you a good time but leave when they’ve gotten what they came for. But a lonely woman. A lonely woman might just make you fall in love with her. Love was something my father was never after. I wasn’t sure yet if I could say the same for myself.

As if of my own subconscious volition, I was standing beside her with my hand, palm facing up, reaching toward her. She looked up, dark eyes focusing on me, and slowly put her hand in mine and let me whisk her away onto the middle of the dance floor. We spun for what felt like years and in those short minutes I felt as if I had always done with dance, with this woman, every moment of my pent up life.

She never spoke and I didn’t dare break the silence. There was only the small intake of breathe as I placed a hand on the small of her back, dipped her and brought her back towards my body, our eyes meeting again and this time transfixing. It was as if we had suddenly melded together, into one eternal being, neither pushing or pulling from the other.

I didn’t see her again for two weeks and in those weeks I had a tightening in my head and in my heart that I had never felt before. But the minute I saw her, sitting in the coffee shop, head low towards a book and her cup, the tightness lifted and I could once again breathe easy. I knew then what I supposed I had known from that very first moment.

I really should have listened to my father.

Pingbacks!

  1. Weekly Writing Challenge: Perspectives | A mom’s blog
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  3. Fifteen Year Old Me Is Disgusted | The Cheese Whines
  4. Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave your shoes at the door! | khaula mazhar
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  7. Weekly Challenge: A Mile in your Fur | Confessions of a Nerdy Girl
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  10. DP weekly challenge – shoes – A morning in the life of sonny Jim. |
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  14. Other point of views – For the Dailypost | readsomethingdifferent
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  18. Appreciating my Parents after Rearing my own Children, DPchallenge | Angela McCauley
  19. Not All Shoes Fit The Same | The Chatter Blog
  20. in the middle of the night | The Matticus Kingdom
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  22. Perhaps today will snow « Dancing with Fireflies
  23. A Day In The Life | Perceptive Pot Clueless Kettle
  24. Switching It Up: DP Weekly Challenge | The Tawny’s Blog
  25. Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes At The Door | imagination
  26. Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes at the Door | Picayune Pieces
  27. Can you Imagine Being Gay? | Abstractions of Life
  28. Platonic Shift | Brain Droppings
  29. Leave Your Shoes At The Door: Memory Clinic | At least we made it this far…
  30. Introverts, Elephants | thanks for letting me autograph your cat
  31. Front Door Shoes | Wendy Karasin – Musings of a Boomer
  32. From Lima Beans To Turtles | Fish Of Gold
  33. Birthdays | This thing called, “Life.”
  34. Mommy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | Love.Books.Coffee.
  35. Sitting In a Pew | The Photo Faith Challenge

Mirror, Mirror

Look in the mirror. Does the person you see match the person you feel like on the inside? How much stock do you put in appearances?

Expectations.

That’s what I see when I look in the mirror.

I see expectations of myself and expectations from others.

We expect a lot from other people.

We expect them not to disappoint us

But when they do, and they inevitably do, we’re not surprised

We were expecting it

Really, we were

We have too many expecations

I have too many expectations

I expect a lot from myself

As I probably should

I expect to be able to live the life that I want to

But why do we always expect so much from others?

Why do we expect others to make us happy?

We expect them to be someone or something

And then they turn out to be something different

Shouldn’t we have been expecting that?

What if the person really isn’t different?

What if they’ve always been the same

But you’re the one whose different?

What if you’re not the person you expected yourself to be?

What if the person looking back at you in the mirror

Isn’t even you?

Pingbacks!

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  12. Daily Prompt – Mirrored – The wisdom lines. | Its all about a bit of this and that.
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  15. The Clash/Daily Prompt, Mirrors | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  16. Of mirrors and reflections | Concentrate On Yourself
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  18. MIRRORED IMAGES | Serendipity
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  30. Who’s That Girl | The Migraine Chronicles

Sweet Sixteen

Write a post inspired by your sixteenth birthday.

Anyone willing to admit that their guilty pleasure was watching My Super Sweet Sixteen? Well, mine wasn’t. I was more into Finding Bigfoot but I will admit that I have seen a fair few episodes of that show and seen just how ridiculous money makes people. Those girls are spoiled rotten brats who will never amount to anything of their own volition. They will only survive this cruel world on their mommy and daddy’s enormous paychecks and these snotty trust fund babies will cash out when they come of age to more money than some of us can even dream about.

That’s what I thought about when I was 15 going on 16. I witnessed our society portraying turning 16 as this huge right of passage and I didn’t understand why. What was so great about turning 16? It doesn’t make you any wiser or any more accomplished. In fact, I just thought it made you more of an idiot for buying into the whole thing. You’re just another year older. Who really cares? I also didn’t understand why so many girls found that turning 16 meant that they would be coming into their womanhood. Hey man, I’m pretty sure coming into my womanhood meant when the lining of my uterine wall started shedding and I became a human waterfall once a month. (Too graphic? My apologies). I didn’t believe that turning 16 would be all that great or all that special. Many of my friends, however, did not share my feelings. Most of them had parties and many of them had a jolly good time turning 16. I, on the other hand, refused to even take part in it.

Long story short: I had a party for my 15th birthday and one for my 17th birthday. I refused to even acknowledge the fact that I turned 16 with a celebration. Sure, my parents took me out to dinner like they do every year but I refused to throw a party for myself like I had done years before. Do I regret not wanting to be in love with 16? No. Do I regret thinking that being 16 was overrated? No. I honestly still don’t really care about 16.

But now that I think about it, I think I’m getting my comeuppance for ignoring this particular birthday. People, on many occasions, at first glance, mistake this freshly crowned 23 year old for a bright eyed and bushy tailed 16 year old.

The world is a wonder to behold.

Pingbacks!

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  8. Inspiration of a Sixteen-year Old — A Haiku: Monday, January 20, 2014 | LisaRosier.com
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  10. Not so Sweet Sixteen | Dance with the Rain
  11. Sixteen Candles and One Surprise Party | meanderedwanderings
  12. Daily Prompt: Sweet Sixteen | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
  13. It’s been an extremely long time since I was sixteen | thoughtsofrkh
  14. Daily Prompt: Sweet Sixteen | Vagabond
  15. Inside left blank for your own message | Kate Murray
  16. Sweet Sixteen – Quizmania | L5GN
  17. [M.M.X.I.V. 20] Hawai’i shirts | Never A Worry
  18. And this is why I lose my memories… | Rob’s Surf Report
  19. POEM: Sweet NOT Sixteen | Poetry by Nowelle
  20. 17 Again | Processing the life
  21. Was Hitler sweet at sixteen? | Mishe en Place
  22. Old and Wise… | Haiku By Ku
  23. Na segunda metade dos 15 | Sonhos desencontrados
  24. Sixteen Birthday | Flowers and Breezes
  25. Daily Prompt: Being Sixteen! | All Things Cute and Beautiful
  26. DP Daily Prompt: Sweet Sixteen http://sabethville.wordpress.com | Sabethville
  27. Some Girls Got Mustangs/Daily Prompt | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  28. Daily Prompt: Sweet Sixteen | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  29. Not so sweet sixteen | A mom’s blog
  30. Daily Prompt – Sweet Sixteen – You can always have fun | storyofmylife1993
  31. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/20/daily-prompt-sixteen/ | all my likes
  32. Opening the Doors of Perception | The Silver Leaf Journal
  33. Daily Prompt: Sweet Sixteen | Poetry
  34. Sweet Sixteen | The Story of a Guy
  35. Sweet Sixteen – A letter to my 16 year old self | Stephen Chapman
  36. I’d Rather Remember My 39th Birthday
  37. Sweet sixteen | Sue’s Trifles

 

 

 

 

Contiki 2014

I have never been more glad to have done a tour in all my life. This past week running around England and Scotland has been the most fun I have ever had. But what has moved me the most wasn’t the gorgeous architecture in Edinburgh or the night life in Liverpool or searching for Nessie at the Loch, it was the people I met and spent this tour with. I never thought it was even possible to get so attached to people you have only known for 8 days. But I have. I love every single person that I met on this trip and I miss them even more. My life has been utterly changed and I will always be grateful for the time we had together and the adventures we shared.

I’m sitting here in a hotel in Ireland getting ready to go explore this amazing country and all I can think about it being back on the tour and seeing everyone again. Laughing with them on the coach, eating dinners together, and just getting to know each other better.

My Contiki family will always be in my heart and I cannot wait to see their smiling faces again.

Until next time friends.

Even though this wasn’t our Day Song, whenever I hear this song, I will always think of my Contiki family. 😀

Broaden Your Mind Abroad

I’m writing this post from Russel Square in London. This is beyond surreal, this feeling inside. I have dreamed about going abroad for years. And now, after nearly 23 years I am here. I made this happen. I made the decision and I came up with the money. I have never been so proud of myself. I can’t wait to discover this beautiful country as well as myself.

I don’t know what’s harder to wrap my head around. That I’m experiencing 48 degree weather in January or the whole driving on the opposite side of the road.

Either way, this is amazing. I can’t wait to see what the next few days bring.
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