The One Secret To Long Lasting Love Is This

As per me, It may not be the only secret. However, It is the strongest one!

Thought Catalog

From a young age I knew on some level that my purpose was to be a conduit of love. Giving to others wholeheartedly and not expecting anything in return was my normal mode of operation. In fact, I grew up as a little adult rather than a child; it was attributed to my independent nature but also my upbringing at home. I related more to my parents, grandparents, and family friends then my peers. With all the love I received from them, I felt safe and secure. However, I was often in the position of being the rock and source of stability for my loved ones. Friends, classmates, colleagues, and even complete strangers have always reflected back to me similar sentiments, “Marisa, do you know that you are all love?”

After two long term relationships with good men who were both incredibly different from each other, I experienced both flips…

View original post 289 more words

Advertisements

Never to Return.

I seen the missed calls and thought how much she must have grumbled

How with the numbers her delicate fingers must have fumbled

The pretty glow on her face would have been a tint of pink

The scolding I would now get I dare not think!

As much as I dreaded the talk that would then follow

I wanted to hear my girl’ sweet Hello!

The call went dead away from reach

I grew anxious, with what my girl would now preach.

The anxiety grew, with every passing hour

I shouldn’t have let me girl go alone so far

Hours went through and my phone didn’t ring

I knew not calling, was not her thing!

The night was quiet, way past midnight

My buzzing phone woke me up with a fright

A friend on the other end was sobbing bad

The news that followed was worse than sad

My girl was hurt, hurt real bad

I ran out with all the strength I ever had

The drive was long, the road was damp ;

I was getting pulled into my sorrow like a swamp

The sight ahead was blinking blue and red

The sirens, paramedics and the scene looked worse than the friend had said.

Lay on the stretcher , the love of my life,

Someday I would have loved her to be my wife

Her voice was feeble, her breath was low ;

I wished the time , would now run slow

As much as it hurt, she did scold;

While I could only hug and hold

” You missed my calls love, I did want to speak”

She had a pale smile through her hurt; her loving voice now creaked

I held her close and cradled her face- My baby should know, beside me is her place!

I kissed her forehead for long while my heart hastily broke

The wind was gnashing my wounds open with each stroke

This Girl , her smile and her crazy sense of humor

Time zoomed passed my eyes, every scene,her every little baby talk, her angry gibberish murmur

Her annoyance when I irritated

Her cold stare when I knowingly flirted

Her wanting me to praise her every morning

Her wanting to say ‘I love you’ after every call

To bring all this back today, I would give my all

Give my all and a lot more! Lord, please get my girl back like before…..

She breathed her last in my arms, I cried out loud, blamed the Almighty in my anguish, How can on his child he be so hard?

My Girl is gone, so is the Love I ever had!

I had a girl and her love once and now it is all gone

I never believed in heaven before, but now I know there is one!

If you can still hold your girl in your arms, believe me , you are one of the lucky few

My Girl, breathed her last through her eyes, For her lips were still whispering, Babe, I love you!

And this May Be is Love.

Beautiful sunsets and long walks

Stolen kisses and late night talks

Rosy after morning glow

Butterflies in the tummy and a lot more

Love isn’t all this

This is only the start

A charming start, with whom you shall soon part

Part away and know

This is not really true

That someone somewhere who was made for you

Isn’t always infatuated, saying I love you

You two had a Life, before the other walked in

And now all that you do is get under their skin!

 You curse the poets, who wrote about love

Cupids are evil, so are the Doves!

Change your better half,until you cannot relate

Then they become the worst half

With whom you always debate

Rose tinted glasses lose their rose

Anger and frustration reside on your nose

And when all is done and gone

You shall still be waiting for the perfect one..

Only to realise it was all right there

While you were looking everywhere

That perfect isn’t what we get

Love never is a game or a bet

It is an ongoing journey hand in hand

All you need is a little bit of understanding, not a Magic wand!

A Promise to Keep.

When her eyes search for you in the crowd

When she squeezes your hand saying you make her proud

When she stays quiet, while she longs to speak

Remember Man, you have a Promise to keep.

When she stays awake until you’re tucked in bed

When she runs her fingers, caressing the hair on your head

When she sheds tears; while you call her a sentimental fool

When her hugs feel warmer, than the most expensive wool

When she says you are the last thought before she sleeps

Remember Man, you have a Promise to keep.

Don’t promise her the stars, nor the moon,

But make sure you check on her, whether dawn, dusk or noon

Don’t promise her with quotes, once quoted by the wise,

While your actions will speak otherwise.

If she is your silent support, when the path is steep

Remember Man, you have a Promise to keep.

Don’t fix her problems, but make sure she isn’t facing them alone,

She can mold some love, into the heart of a stone.

And when she walks a thousand miles with you

Make sure with her you walk back

For the woman will fill in all the gaps

And compensate with love for all that you lack

Promise her now and keep it together

Promise her for now, you may not have forever

For when you love, make sure to love her deep

Remember Man, you have a Promise to keep.

You for Yourself.

My Last post for the year 2014. Lessons learned, wisdom earned!

A little moral support

A rub on the back in need

A strong grip on your wrist

Few tears of gratitude on your dying soul’ s seed

They may give you the courage

They may say the very words

One may even walk a mile with you

You may assume it’s your true soul mate, with your first, second and third

Daddy dearest may hold your finger,

Mother darling may soothe your broke heart,

A sibling may hug tight all your broken pieces together

Close friends may raise a drink and make you laugh.

Mentors will motivate

Critics will make you strong

Every other person , who is not You, will differentiate your rights from wrong

This is your picture, this is your story

Everybody else is just a spectator

And eventually will be your good , bad, fondest or most despised memory.

Easy to preach, hard to practice

One shall build teary castles of their sorrow,

But to another, shall shower, bookish words of wisdom with ease!

So listen hard and make it clear

Everything someday comes to an end, no matter how dear

Learn to laugh at yourself, as you do to another

Some days you may cry and whine,

But another morning, make your own sunshine!

You are only Human, you are just a man

There is a lot more you can conquer, than you think you can

So when in doubt, with no one around

Build you own fortress without a sound

Make sure to use all your life’s burdensome boulders

And remember to weep on your very own shoulders!

Twilight Eyes

Her eyes as the stars of twilight fair

Like twilight’s too, her dusky auburn hair,

The world within her eyes, was a mess of Gorgeous chaos

Enthusiastically dancing their own sweet tune.

Their own sweet vocabulary, a beautiful language he then learned,

With his poetic words her love he earned

The glory of a sunrise in her eyes,

The Calmness of a sunset in her eyes,

Sometimes Calm, sometimes Wild,

Fierce look of a wounded tigress

Innocence of a new-born child

She talked, but he only heard what her eyes spoke,

Eyes that twinkled at his sight

And calmed the hurricane in his head

Like shooting stars, her piercing looks,

An Author could write on her eyes, a million books

She whispers she doesn’t care, when hurt with her own misery,

Heart bleeds and stains her soul, every hurt into a story.

So when he did walk away, she closed her eyes,

Every beautiful compliment now, would always sound as a harsh lie,

She shut the world in her eyes so hard,

Her make-up ran down, wet and cold,

Once his world was in her eyes,

Now he sees her eyes, everywhere in the world!

Lessons from Mister Pencil

When I do my writing , I do a rough draft on paper. Given to my love for technology and my patience with the typewriter; I Never use them! I usually write with a Pencil ; solely because I can erase it and rewrite; and if the tip ever gets blunt I can sharpen it to my liking. Over and over again.

The other day when I sharpened my Pencil, I realized how similar it is to each one of us.

1. Every now and then, we got to stop writing and sharpen our point to make it better. The pencil does lose on its wood but its sharper than before. And so do we, when problems surround us , we do suffer but come out, much more wiser and stronger than before.

2. It doesn’t matter how good a Pencil is, what matters in whose hand it is. We are pencils here. You and I. What we should not be forgetting that God guides us along a path and we are here to walk on to that path. We may forget our purpose, but lets not forget there is a hand up there that is watching over us. We are all here, albeit for a short time. We may conquer the world but we shall always get as per his will!

3. The exterior barely matters. No matter what print or how fancy looking the pencil is, what matters is the Lead inside. An artist would know when sketching, which point does he need to use. A blunt point, a darker lead shade, a fine lead and so on. By now you must have got my point! What is inside you is what matters. Each one of us is unique and good enough to make an impression in its own way.

4. The eraser was invented for a reason. It allows us to rub out any mistake that we may make. So basically, making mistakes is not a bad thing. What is important is to amend them and do the right thing.

Now on when I write, I realize,  its not my words that are important, its the Pencil that I am using!