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Those who came before

Tags: love heart shape

There was a conversation at work this week about Love and those who shape the person we are. Someone argued that one special love shapes you like no one else. Someone else argued that you can love deeply multiple times, and they all shape you.

I posited to be of the latter. Someone laughed and cautioned me to be more careful to whom I give my Heart. Maybe so, but I can’t help myself … when I love someone, I’m all in. One could argue that I’ve been too cavalier with my heart I guess? I can count on one hand how many still hold a piece of my heart even today.

The punk who captured my heart with his brilliant mind and sarcastic wit. Easily one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen in my life. He called me Dollface. I’ve always had a weakness for a man in curls, and he was no exception. Tall, handsome, and wickedly talented. Sadly we lost touch many years ago. I guess we were both maladjusted from our tumultuous on again off again relationship. I’ve recently tried reaching out to him, but he’s shown no interest in reconnecting. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing but I hope he’s surrounded by love. I miss him very much.

Then there’s the Brit. He called me Kitten. We were both so young, so naive. Sadly we parted ways bitterly, vitriol fueled by lies fed by those we both trusted. We reconnected and lost contact several times, most recently when he found me on Steam. He’s now easily one of my best friends, and we chat almost every single day. I think perhaps if we’d both been a bit older and more mature, we may have worked out.

There’s He Who Shall Not Be Named, who tried his damnedest to ruin my life. I still have a burning anger towards him. The last time he reached out to me, it was right after I had gotten married, and expressed interest in becoming a part of my life again. He was in prison at the time. I told him to get fucked, and stated that should he be foolish enough to come near me or any member of my family, I would put a bullet in his head.

Needless to say, I never forgave him. Nor do I miss him at all. But I cannot deny the impact he made on me and my life. He was a very expensive lesson.

One could also argue that my ex-husband was the other. That said, I can’t say I regret my relationship with him. Without him in my life, I would not have my wonderful little minion. It’s true that I let things go too far, and should have stood up for myself, but I didn’t. For whatever it’s worth, I tried to be a good loyal wife and mother. I simply wasted all that effort on someone who had not earned it.

And I haven’t forgiven him either. After my marriage fell apart, I not only lost my husband, I lost my best friend too. My heart was rend into so many pieces that I feared I’d never find them all. If anything, he’s a reminder of how far I’ve come, what and who I lost in the process, and where I should never have been in the first place.

There was my Latin lover. We were together on and off for over four years. He called me Princessa, even though he knew I hated that name. He was savage, powerful, and passionate. We had such fun. He wanted to get married, and though I refused, we stayed friends, losing touch when COVID hit. I miss him, he was a great friend.

Last but certainly not least is my German love. A few years younger than me, but wise beyond his years. We supported each other through difficult times. I was his Hase, and he was my Carrot. He loved my jokes, and we flooded each other with the silliest of memes. Ultimately I felt I was not what he needed, and I had to let him go. We’re still friends and chat every week. He says he still loves me. I think if circumstances were different, we might work out? Who knows. We’re at different places in our lives, but he’ll be forever etched in my heart.

When I think about men in general, I often compare them to those who came before. What qualities are similar? What bad habits does any man share? Maybe it’s not fair to hold anyone new to standards set by my ex and former flames. I can’t say I’ve ever known a “perfect” man, but if I should ever meet one, I think he’d be an amalgamation of all those whom I’ve loved. Who’s to say he doesn’t exist?

In the meantime, I’m content with myself. That said, I do miss having someone to share in my experiences and travels. What’s the point of living if you can’t share it with someone special?



This post first appeared on Birthplace Of The Process Of Illogical Logic, please read the originial post: here

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