This goes along with Unrequited Love... but in a different way.
A girl will never forget the first boy she likes. Even if things don’t quite work out, say he pushes you about and hits you like little boys usually do, but usually someone is there to offer words of wisdom, ‘do you know why that boy did those things? It’s because he likes you.’ There it is! That’s the beginning of our problem. Do you know what this means? We’re all encouraged, programmed, to believe that if a guy acts like a total jerk that means he likes you.
Take a girl who has just been dumped, what do you usually say to her as her best friend? Something along the lines of, ‘he likes you too much, you’re too pretty and too great and he can’t handle it.’ Or if he doesn’t call her then you’ll tell her that he lost her number or something. Why do we say this stuff to each other though? Is it possible that it’s because we’re too scared and it’s too hard to say the one obvious truth that’s staring everyone in the face...? He’s just not that into you.
If a lad doesn’t call you after meeting up with you, then he’s not interested. The same goes, if he doesn’t talk to you over the net. If he wants to be with you, he’ll do anything to see you again and talk to you again. Don’t believe the stuff that you’re mates say. Sure she’s being honest and you are great and pretty but she’s using them as an excuse to help you get over him. If he’s just dumped you, it doesn’t mean he still likes you.
There might be an occasional time when it was a mistake that he dumped you, but he’ll apologise the next day and you’ll be back together again. If that doesn't happen to you, then don’t go after him and think that he broke up with you because you’re too pretty and he can’t handle it... that’s rubbish.
My advice to all the best friends out there, don’t say this stuff to your mates, you’re giving her false hope. I know and understand that you’re trying to be supportive but you might end up making things worse for her in the long run. Think about what you’re going to say to be supportive, maybe something along the lines of ‘There’re more like him out there that are better than he is and less of a jerk...’ That’ll help her more than practically saying, ‘it’s you, not him.'
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Unrequited Love
I have found, almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said, ‘journey’s end at lovers meeting.’ What a thought! Personally I haven’t experienced anything remotely close to that but I’m more than willing to believe that Shakespeare had.
I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should, I’m constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said that love is blind, now that is something I know to be true.
For some, quite inexplicably, love fades. For others, some is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then there’s another kind of love, the cruellest kind, the one that almost kills it’s victims, it’s called unrequited love. Of that, I am an expert.
Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other, but what about the rest of us? What about our stories? Those of us who fall in love, alone. We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones, we’re the unloved ones, and the walking wounded. We’re left to wait, wondering if he/she will ever love us back and most of the time, the answer is no.
Now, I’ve thought about what I’m going to say in this post and what I’m going to say, is to simply give up. I know that doesn’t sound like very good advice but, take it from someone who’s experienced this. Think about it though, what is the point in waiting for something that will never happen? This person that you are in love with, who doesn’t love you back obviously doesn’t want to be with you. If they did, do you really think you would be sat there, waiting for them to feel the same way? Nope, you would be with them already.
This has got to be the oldest saying in the book but it’s true, there really are plenty more fish in the sea. So my advice to those who actually know what I’m talking about, is to let go of that person you can’t stop thinking about, who doesn’t love you back and focus on something else in your life. I’m sure you don’t really want to be stuck going through life with that one person in your head who you aren’t with, and never will be, waiting for them to finally see that you’re meant to be together. If things are meant to happen between you, then they will. You can’t wait around for that to happen though; you’ve got to move on.
There will be someone out there for you, I promise that, and you will find that one person who you’re meant to be with, but you’re not going to find them if you’re still hooked on some other guy/girl. No-one was there to give me this advice, but I sat down and thought about the situation I was in and this has all helped me, so now I want to help others who are in this situation also. So think about what I’ve said and it might just help :)
I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should, I’m constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said that love is blind, now that is something I know to be true.
For some, quite inexplicably, love fades. For others, some is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then there’s another kind of love, the cruellest kind, the one that almost kills it’s victims, it’s called unrequited love. Of that, I am an expert.
Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other, but what about the rest of us? What about our stories? Those of us who fall in love, alone. We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones, we’re the unloved ones, and the walking wounded. We’re left to wait, wondering if he/she will ever love us back and most of the time, the answer is no.
Now, I’ve thought about what I’m going to say in this post and what I’m going to say, is to simply give up. I know that doesn’t sound like very good advice but, take it from someone who’s experienced this. Think about it though, what is the point in waiting for something that will never happen? This person that you are in love with, who doesn’t love you back obviously doesn’t want to be with you. If they did, do you really think you would be sat there, waiting for them to feel the same way? Nope, you would be with them already.
This has got to be the oldest saying in the book but it’s true, there really are plenty more fish in the sea. So my advice to those who actually know what I’m talking about, is to let go of that person you can’t stop thinking about, who doesn’t love you back and focus on something else in your life. I’m sure you don’t really want to be stuck going through life with that one person in your head who you aren’t with, and never will be, waiting for them to finally see that you’re meant to be together. If things are meant to happen between you, then they will. You can’t wait around for that to happen though; you’ve got to move on.
There will be someone out there for you, I promise that, and you will find that one person who you’re meant to be with, but you’re not going to find them if you’re still hooked on some other guy/girl. No-one was there to give me this advice, but I sat down and thought about the situation I was in and this has all helped me, so now I want to help others who are in this situation also. So think about what I’ve said and it might just help :)
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
A seaside town in winter
The once happy and joyful seaside town was now a ghost town. Desolate, deserted and desperate for people to play with again, for children to laugh and splash about in the sea, to build castles in the sand and throw beach balls to one another. Instead, the beach was bare and abandoned, lifeless and still. As I stood at the edge of the sea, the wind whipping my hair about my face and howling viciously around me, I found it hard to picture this violent scene a couple of months ago when the sand glistened like a million diamonds in the hot summer sun and the sky was a beautiful blue, so calm and clear. Now it was a different story. A seaside town in winter is a whole new world.
The wind was crisp, cold and cruel, knocking people’s hats from their heads and sweeping sand into their eyes. Under the pier I saw a young girl, a victim of the wind’s cruelty, chasing after her scarf that had been whisked away and stolen from around her neck. She tripped and tumbled over rocks and pools of water in the sand where children had been digging in the summer. Litter danced around with the leaves and the dryer sand further up the beach, as an old couple huddled together on they’re morning stroll along the promenade, scarves covering their mouths to protect they’re necks from the biting wind. The heavy rain clouds drifted slowly over head, dark grey and rumbling as they passed. A weak, orange sun hung low in the sky, cowering into the sea in the distant horizon, intimidated by the grumbling, angry clouds that moaned as they rolled along in the dull sky. A fine mist cloaked the town like an eerie, ancestral spectre, watching, waiting in hope that one day, the sun will once again burst through the clouds and the miserable, dejected seaside town will be content and full of life once more.
The sea was a hungry lion, pouncing and snatching all that lay upon the brown, soggy sand. Lollipop sticks, fish and chips wrappers, sun cream bottles, broken buckets and spades, all drawn into the large mouth of the hungry beast. Crashing against the shore, small waves washed the night’s debris onto the land and cowardly backed away before anyone saw who had left the discarded wreckage scattered about on the silent beach. I sunk into the sand as I walked and it squelched underfoot as I did so, grey and soggy, oozing through the cracks in the souls of my shoes and soaking my socks. A young woman was having the same trouble as I was; she padded slowly across the boggy, coffee carpet trying to keep up with her puppy as he bounded along the coast, free and happy. Out to sea I spotted a small boat, being dragged by the current further and further into the horizon, sure to have no escape when the shore is no longer visible, trapped forever in the watery grave.
Shops stood lined up along the promenade like soldiers ready for inspection. They were dead to the world, unresponsive and motionless, bordered up with paint peeling on the doors, thick layers of dust sat on the window sills and each were labelled with ‘closed’ signs.... hung from the inside, showing they were useless and pathetic excuses for seaside shops because they held no joyful surprises inside in winter, only broken bits and pieces caked in dirt and grime. Gulls shrieked and circled overhead like vultures, searching for unwanted food left about on the pavement. They dived through the air when they spotted a fish and chip wrapper, (still containing a couple of chips) perched on the edge of the low wall that surrounded the beach. They all squabbled over it and flapped about angrily at each other, meanwhile I glanced over to the uninhabited fairground. The rides sat still, sleeping and wrapped up in their winter jackets, hibernating and awaiting the return of the cheerful visitors that will enliven the seaside town once again with their ecstatic faces and colourful clothing. The horses on the merry-go-round creaked and rattled in the strong winds and were beginning to rust from the endless days of heavy rain that had hammered against their bodies. Rollercoaster’s looked unsafe in winter. The darkness combined with the noises of the rides in the wind, made the fairground a frightening scene to look upon, like something out of a horror movie. All signs scream ‘don’t go in’ but something draws you inside, pulls you into the trap as you feel you need to investigate the forsaken place, to find what lurks within the grounds ready to pounce.
The night was drawing near. Enclosing around me, changing the atmosphere from slightly angered to spiteful and enraged. The wind was harsh, throwing the litter about and chucking it at passers by. The sea crashed merciless against the eroding cliff face, stealing chunks of rock as it striked repeatedly. The cold air was bitter, as it wrapped itself around my body, ripping any warmth I had left from me.
A seaside town in winter really is a whole new world. A different scene completely, with mixed emotions. Ruthless, vicious and vindictive, something you could never imagine if you were to stand on a beach in summer with the sweat dripping from your face in the heat of the sun and small children laughing and playing in sand and water around you. A seaside town in winter is a fascinating scene to gaze upon.
The wind was crisp, cold and cruel, knocking people’s hats from their heads and sweeping sand into their eyes. Under the pier I saw a young girl, a victim of the wind’s cruelty, chasing after her scarf that had been whisked away and stolen from around her neck. She tripped and tumbled over rocks and pools of water in the sand where children had been digging in the summer. Litter danced around with the leaves and the dryer sand further up the beach, as an old couple huddled together on they’re morning stroll along the promenade, scarves covering their mouths to protect they’re necks from the biting wind. The heavy rain clouds drifted slowly over head, dark grey and rumbling as they passed. A weak, orange sun hung low in the sky, cowering into the sea in the distant horizon, intimidated by the grumbling, angry clouds that moaned as they rolled along in the dull sky. A fine mist cloaked the town like an eerie, ancestral spectre, watching, waiting in hope that one day, the sun will once again burst through the clouds and the miserable, dejected seaside town will be content and full of life once more.
The sea was a hungry lion, pouncing and snatching all that lay upon the brown, soggy sand. Lollipop sticks, fish and chips wrappers, sun cream bottles, broken buckets and spades, all drawn into the large mouth of the hungry beast. Crashing against the shore, small waves washed the night’s debris onto the land and cowardly backed away before anyone saw who had left the discarded wreckage scattered about on the silent beach. I sunk into the sand as I walked and it squelched underfoot as I did so, grey and soggy, oozing through the cracks in the souls of my shoes and soaking my socks. A young woman was having the same trouble as I was; she padded slowly across the boggy, coffee carpet trying to keep up with her puppy as he bounded along the coast, free and happy. Out to sea I spotted a small boat, being dragged by the current further and further into the horizon, sure to have no escape when the shore is no longer visible, trapped forever in the watery grave.
Shops stood lined up along the promenade like soldiers ready for inspection. They were dead to the world, unresponsive and motionless, bordered up with paint peeling on the doors, thick layers of dust sat on the window sills and each were labelled with ‘closed’ signs.... hung from the inside, showing they were useless and pathetic excuses for seaside shops because they held no joyful surprises inside in winter, only broken bits and pieces caked in dirt and grime. Gulls shrieked and circled overhead like vultures, searching for unwanted food left about on the pavement. They dived through the air when they spotted a fish and chip wrapper, (still containing a couple of chips) perched on the edge of the low wall that surrounded the beach. They all squabbled over it and flapped about angrily at each other, meanwhile I glanced over to the uninhabited fairground. The rides sat still, sleeping and wrapped up in their winter jackets, hibernating and awaiting the return of the cheerful visitors that will enliven the seaside town once again with their ecstatic faces and colourful clothing. The horses on the merry-go-round creaked and rattled in the strong winds and were beginning to rust from the endless days of heavy rain that had hammered against their bodies. Rollercoaster’s looked unsafe in winter. The darkness combined with the noises of the rides in the wind, made the fairground a frightening scene to look upon, like something out of a horror movie. All signs scream ‘don’t go in’ but something draws you inside, pulls you into the trap as you feel you need to investigate the forsaken place, to find what lurks within the grounds ready to pounce.
The night was drawing near. Enclosing around me, changing the atmosphere from slightly angered to spiteful and enraged. The wind was harsh, throwing the litter about and chucking it at passers by. The sea crashed merciless against the eroding cliff face, stealing chunks of rock as it striked repeatedly. The cold air was bitter, as it wrapped itself around my body, ripping any warmth I had left from me.
A seaside town in winter really is a whole new world. A different scene completely, with mixed emotions. Ruthless, vicious and vindictive, something you could never imagine if you were to stand on a beach in summer with the sweat dripping from your face in the heat of the sun and small children laughing and playing in sand and water around you. A seaside town in winter is a fascinating scene to gaze upon.
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