I loved that he was remote.
I loved that I couldn’t have him.
I loved that I didn’t want him.
I loved that he was closed so tight.
I loved that he made me feel insecure.
I loved that he made me feel less.
I loved that I added complexity to his life.
I loved that I amused him.
I loved that he worked so hard to keep me when I threatened to end it.
I loved that he controlled me, and he knew it.
I loved that he was committed to being faithful, but he was unfaithful with me.
I loved that I changed him, for better and for worse.
I loved that he turned me into someone I never would have been.
I loved that I was dangerous, and he underestimated how much.
I loved what I gave, and I loved what he took.
I loved everything I did to him and everything he did to me.
I love that I hurt him, and I love that he deserved it.
I loved him.
Maybe he loved me.
Probably not.

What happens
When a love affair wanes?
When the close is imminent?
You start to wonder
What's wrong with me?
Then a rapid descent to
I'm a bad person
No one wants me
I'll never fall in love again

I was thinking today that I didn’t love you, who you are. I loved you for who you represented. Because I didn’t really know you. I didn’t know you at all. I seriously have no idea who you are.

Today I was wondering, is there any difference in loving someone for what they represent and who they truly are? And I couldn’t really think of the difference.

If I had not come from the history I came from, I never would have fallen for you. Did I fall for you, or the solution I felt you represented?

I think the dynamic is perfectly clear. Crystal clear. Why I can’t loose you from my life and my mind is a ******* mystery that tortures me endlessly.

I think of how much I hate you, which is pretty big. It’s so big I want to make it go away with all my might, because it eats at me.

I want you out. You took years from me. Correction, I chose to let you take years from me. Shame on you. Shame on me.

Shame.

Our affair was not intense.
Well, I made it intense for me, because I'm ****** up, but it was far far from some grand all-consuming passion.
There was no romantic love.
It was desperation, loneliness, and selfishness.

I just do not ******* know how to forgive myself.

I just do not ******* know how to forgive myself.

I never loved the way I loved you.

And the only way I could’ve loved you like that was to know we would never be together. That freed me up to make you anything I wanted in my mind and give you everything I could possibly give you. Because I had the complete protection of knowing you belong to someone else.

So even sometimes I wonder if that qualifies as love. Or if it just qualifies as unfettered pure joy coupled with the freedom of complete emotional abandon.

Every time someone tells me I'm beautiful, I reply, "I'm not beautiful..................................................but thank you."

I wish I could just say thank you.

They know what they want and they don’t play games.

They’re experienced and confident.

They ask for what they want, which is a huge turn on.

I’m a sucker for ******* and they know what they’re doing.

It’s like having *** with pillows; warm and comfortable.

They’re fearless.

Everyone likes Big Girls!