past tense: loved; past participle: loved

  1. feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone).

“do you love me?”

synonyms: care very much for, feel deep affection for, hold very dear, adore, think the world of, be devoted to, dote on, idolizeworship;

be in love with, be infatuated with, be smitten with, be besotted with;

informalbe mad/crazy/nuts/wild about, have a crush on, carry a torch for

“she loves him”

antonyms: hate
  • like very much; find pleasure in.

“I’d love a cup of tea, thanks”

synonyms: like very much, delight in, enjoy greatly, have a passion for, take great pleasure in, derive great pleasure from, relishsavor;

have a weakness for, be partial to, have a soft spot for, have a taste for, be taken with;

informalget a kick out of, have a thing about, be mad/crazy/nuts/wild about, be hooked on, get off on

“Laura loved painting”

antonyms: hate


 I feel loved. I am loved. And realizing just how much – especially recently – has lured tears from my eyes and brought me to my knees.

Social media is a curious thing. We feel so connected and aware of each other’s lives…but appearances can be deceiving. We’re allowed to dictate what parts of our lives we want our connections to see, while appearing genuine and honest. We have the illusion of intimacy but we’re mostly scamming each other whether we mean to or not. We want to celebrate the good things – not even with the intent of bragging – just highlighting the positive, while minimizing – or completely ignoring the painful times, the struggles, the rawness of life.

If I were 100% vocal about my heartaches and woes, would anyone truly care? Perhaps – but the rest of you would react in other ways – pity; irritation; discomfort. The truth is, other people’s pain makes us uncomfortable, and while we want to be honest, we really don’t want to participate in anyone else’s honesty #amiright.

My point is that even if I look like everything is fine and I have it all together, I don’t. 

Most days are better than others, this is true, and I’m grateful for those days. But overall I am miles from where I want to be. I’m hanging on by as many threads as I can possibly hold and doing the best I can with the resources I have. 

Like it says in one of my favorite poems she made broken look beautiful…

Ok don’t get me started. What I need to express is this:

I am loved. Openness and closeness with anyone is something I typically avoid like the plague. I prefer the illusion of closeness while keeping most people at arm’s distance.

However, I’ve learned to be vulnerable (which is terrifying but beautiful) and for those of you that are in that inmost circle and have gone above and beyond and miles out of your way to help me escape, forget, relax, laugh, cry, and literally put food on the table, THANK YOU.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I am loved.

I am loved by you.  And I love you too. You know who you are and I am desperately grateful for you and the way you have and continue to bless my life.

There’s no way to express the depth of my gratitude. Just know that you are also loved dearly. It is a feeling beyond words to learn there are people – not necessarily related by blood – that can care so much for another person…that cannot turn their back on someone in anguish…that truly care about someone’s well-being…that want to spend hours-days-space together no matter the time-lapse, cost, or distance.

You are my soul-friends, life-mates, my tribe, my family. You make the terrifying times less scary; the bumpy times less nauseating; the devastating times less impossible; the penniless times less hopeless; the dark times less endless.

Thank you for loving me.


i will not be first runner up

Awwwwwwwwwwwww haaaaaaaaaaaale nawww


Backburnered. Is that word? Well it is now.

Let me start over. I have //whispers under breath// psychic tendencies. Since I’ve voluntarily committed myself to this online exposé, I might as well reveal that too. Yeah, I know, wth. No I can’t/won’t read your palm. No I can’t pick winning lottery numbers. No, I can’t tell you lottery numbers. No, I’m not a prophet or a fortune teller or Miss Cleo.

Cue the twilight zone theme...nahnahnahnah nahnahnahnah
Cue the twilight zone theme…nahnahnahnah nahnahnahnah

I don’t talk about it much. It’s weird. It’s one of those things that people just don’t understand. Heck, I barely do either. But what I do know is sometimes I know things. I just know things. I know when some things are going to happen. I get intense FEELINGS. I know how some things are going to happen. It’s hard to describe. It’s not like a clear face, time, place, type of knowing. It’s just a sensing. And sometimes, it almost feels like something from the past that you can’t remember in detail – like a foggy memory, but it just hasn’t happened yet. I have a slight obsession with metaphors, so I’ll try to illustrate it like this:

Like if you wake up in the morning and you smell bacon. You know its bacon; you recognize it. You know it is being cooked; you can feel the heat of the grease on the wafting scent. You know it’s coming from the kitchen because, well, duh, where else would it be cooking? You know someone is preparing it; bacon can’t cook itself. You can’t see the bacon; you can’t touch the bacon, you just know there is some bacon somewhere, probably the kitchen, being cooked by someone, probably whomever you live with. And you love bacon. Your mouth starts watering because you can’t wait to eat it. And you know what it tastes like; you remember.

It’s like that. Hopefully that did something for you.

Or, how about this; it’s like an intense dream you had that vanishes just as you wake up and try to remember the details. Yes, like that.

Whatever, I’m moving on.

So I knew KNEW Sir Crickets, introduced here and seen again here was going to reach out to me again. I knew I’d hear from him before the end of 2014. I knew it would be a holiday, although I wasn’t certain which one. Thanksgiving, maybe, but that had passed. I thought it would be New Years, but I couldn’t tell. Well, it was Christmas. Christmas morning, I get a text saying Merry Christmas beautiful…

So I’m all, I KNEW IT. No surprise here. So I reply, aww same to you, yadda yadda, nothing much more or less.

So The Professor introduced here and I are talking about past relationships over dinner one night, and he tells me about some weird noncommittal thing he recently went through, and I tell him about Sir Crickets. He is baffled by that whole drama, and asks to see a picture (which, I think is a man thing. Men like to see their –dare I say it—competition. They want names and faces. Me on the other hand, I don’t want to know. If you’re not all about me, good luck, don’t care.).

If you’re not all about me, good luck, don’t care.

So I pull up Sir Crickets on the ol FB, which I hadn’t seen in months after he stopped talking to me and I unfriended him to spare my sanity of all the ooo babe and you’re so sexy and we’re such a great pair comments by other women on his wall and photos (ok ok ok, now that I write that and read it, I know, I really REALLY should have known better, but until someone I’m seeing tells me I have something to worry about, I don’t worry about it.), and lo and behold, he is public relationship FB official with someone and has been since he went crickets on me! GASP! And also, LIGHTBULB.

Well, I’m like, cool good for him.

And then I’m like WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIT. If he’s had an official ladyfriend for two months then WHYNAHALE is he texting ME on Christmas morning?!


I will not be the second choice! I will not be the back-up girl if Option A just doesn’t work out. Wow. I just…wow. He’s totally trying to keep me in his back pocket. No thanks.

Although, I have to admit feeling victorious that he misses me… It’s the little things…sneer/snicker

But all that stuff I said before about once you’re in you’re in, yeah, no. He out.

My spidey senses tell me that I’ll see him once more or hear from him once more, too. But that was before I wrote this and I’m not certain anymore. He might read this and change his mind.

Side note: that’s another thing with my “visions,” they can always be altered. People change their minds. And the visions change. That’s why it’s like…foggy…

I might still be struggling with my own self worth, but I do know that I’m better than the back burner. And I don’t need to be psychic to know that there is someone out there that is so so mindblowingly and obscenely perfect for me, that I just flat out will not accept anything less.

Right, I don’t NEED to be. But it helps. I’m holding out for a hero… of sorts. I’m already my own hero, but having a co-hero would be great.

He’s coming soon. Not sure who/when/where, or whether or not we’ve already met and just need to remeet. But he’s on his way. I can smell the bacon. And I’m so excited.


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