Of loves conquered and lost

Sit down, children, I've just had my sehri and now I must tell you a story because if I dont I fear I may start bawling my eyes out.

In order to avoid that lets have a laugh at my love life okay?

Guess what I just did? Yelled at my ex, the great love of my life, the one that got away- as per Jammie's blog - because he asked me for girlfriend advice : S

JESUS CHRIST

I realize we're over and yes maybe we can still be friends but that maybe comes when a year's passed at least or I've found someone too!

I listened AS CALMLY as I could until I couldn't and told him to seek advice elsewhere.

I'm done attempting to be friends with him even if we were good friends first, somehow, that void feels over.

Or that his void was filled.

If I'm honest, the overwhelming overflowing loving feeling will always be his. or related to when I loved him and when I mourn us I mourn for that feeling more than anything else.

Right back to the void being filled, not filled filled but there's this wonderful specimen of a human being, this brave delighful man who makes me forget and yearn again for love - and perhaps even a soaring over the hills passionate love.

But for you to understand, dear readers, I must go back to the begining - to a girl who had not yet learned the art of wielding a flat iron and knew very little of loss and nothing of clinical depression, who trusted openly and loved neruda and art and thought diversity divine....

(stay tuned, folks)

I think I should have loved you presently,
And given in earnest words I flung in jest;
And lifted honest eyes for you to see,
And caught your hand against my cheek and breast;
And all my pretty follies flung aside
That won you to me, and beneath your gaze,
Naked of reticence and shorn of pride,
Spread like a chart my little wicked ways.
I, that had been to you, had you remained,
But one more waking from a recurrent dream,
Cherish no less the certain stakes I gained,
And walk your memory's halls, austere, supreme,
A ghost in marble of a girl you knew
Who would have loved you in a day or two.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay