Crash Into You

I’ve been looking at the calendar  as yet another summer comes to a close. Fall is just around the corner, I could feel and smell the crispness of the autumn air. It’s no secret that it is my favorite season of the year. It’s no secret nor coincidence either that it was the same season that I first fell for a guy. My heart got subsequently broken in the process but that’s just how it goes. What didn’t kill me only made me stronger.

Jaded — check. Cynical —  a big, fat check. But despite those, I don’t know, I’m still a romantic at heart although I’m not as naive as I was. Like I’ve always said, I’m not the same person I was two years ago. Even a few months ago. Hell, even five minutes ago! But some people and some people say that some love(s) stay with you. That’s just how it goes.

What if you want to leave that piece of you behind? Like how trees shed their leaves in preparation for the long winter ahead. It’s a bit unfair, don’t you think? It’s unfair that that part of yesterday will always be with you and you’ve got no say about it. No matter how things change. How people change.

But I know better now. I know better now not to confuse love with lust. Nor with want or need. Nor a yes when it really meant no.

I have learned to be my own person. Granted, I might be a singleton at the moment but I still long for the flutters, that one spontaneous spark. I still wish on that same shooting star that maybe, maybe just this once, it’d let me crash into you.

 

xoxo

 

Every Night Is Another Story

So yet another first date, another first hello. Another night, another cup of coffee, another round of stories, another goodbye. And oh yeah, dinner, if it comes to that. Maybe a glass of wine or two after.

It’s beginning to be the norm for me nowadays. So since that’s the case, I’ve decided to write about my so-called dating life. Not that I haven’t done that before, but I guess I want to do it from a perspective of a thirty-something. There, I said it, thirty-something — no, the world didn’t end and yes, I can finally say I’m that old and not have an ensuing nervous breakdown.

So from the highs and the lows, the hits and the misses (hopefully more hits than misses), the awkwardness and the comfortable silence, from the obscure to the profound, from each exchanged photos to the photoshopped ones, from each memorable spark to fuzzy recollections, to every yay or nay, it’s all gonna be in black and white.

Maybe the Universe will finally take pity. That or the Universe will finally give in from my relentless pestering.

xoxo