Tag: love

Like it or not, four years ago I thought I had my last first kiss and now I hope like hell that I was wrong and I didn’t.

Like it or not, I thought you were the one, but no one who loves me as much as I want to be loved would treat me the way you treated me, would they?

Like it or not, I have to do this all over again with someone else, and every man I meet I am going to compare to you, and I’m going to wish you just could have been different…just a little bit different.

This was written in response to Maya Stein’s Tri-Writing prompt: “Like it or not…”

I heard that they tried as hard as they could but he just couldn’t let go of the past.

I heard that they tried as hard as they could but she was too insecure and jealous.

I heard it took them too long to figure out that no matter how much you love someone and want to make it work, life isn’t fair, and love is never enough.

This was written in response to Maya Stein’s Tri-Writing prompt: In 3 lines, start a rumor. 

Mix one part of staying home from work with taking two small naps and laying on the couch all day eating candy and junk food.

Blend well with exactly one gallon of tears and approximately 50 text messages to your best friend, without much comfort returned despite her trying, and then stir in a viewing of Bridget Jones’s Diary because she makes you feel better about yourself and more hopeful for life in general.

Apply liberally to the skin as often as necessary, take extra time to rub harder on the places where you’ll miss his touch the most – on the small of your back, where the weight of his warm and heavy hand rested on your thigh, and of course be sure not to skip your hands that wrapped around and matched so well with yours it was impossible to see where his skin ended and yours began.

This was written in response to Maya Stein’s Tri-Writing prompt: In three lines, write prescription for something non-medical. 

The way you call me “babe”, the way you kiss the tip of my nose, how your left arm is always extended across the bed for me to curl into your side, how you hold me so my face is pressed into your chest and one of my hands rests between your naked thighs, how you rub my back so slow and gentle, how I feel so completely at peace in your arms in this bed.

How I don’t have to ask for you to take out the garbage or get the coffee pot ready for tomorrow, how you never complain about cooking or grocery shopping when you know I hate it and don’t want to do it, how you see beers you think I’ll like and bring them home to me, the way you make me feel safe and cared for every time your hand touches the small of my back when we’re walking through doorways, the way you make me feel so special and yours.

But there is a mountain of lies blocking my view of the future, as well as a door you won’t walk through and close, and no matter how much love there may be between us, a girl can only take so much.

This was written in response to Maya Stein’s Tri-Writing prompt: Sour or sweet?