“Her needs were simple and few—all she ever wanted was to be someone’s first choice.” She breathes love as the wind moves the clouds above field’s rich in their emerald lushness. She feels it radiate in her heart and shine out through her eyes so full of hope, because she loves with the force of a thousand armies yet with the softness of momma’s arms. She doesn’t just love—she is love.
Yet it seems that no matter how sweet her kisses are, or how pure her heart, she is just never the first choice. It’s not that she always questions her worth, but it just seems that no one else can read the language of her heart, no matter how many times she bares it.
She’s thought that once or twice it may happen—that someone would stand up and say that he chooses her above all others—but then reality would creep in like the black smoke churning from a midwinter’s fire, and she’d be left alone and shaken to her core once again.
Sometimes she was partially chosen, in pieces and bits for those parts of herself that they loved to taste. But regardless of how sweet her smile, or how hot her bare skin burned, no one’s ever stayed and said they wanted more. Perhaps if she’s honest, she’ll admit that sometimes she’s wondered if she was unlovable—that maybe it was her lot in life to remain without someone to hold her close during the dark nights that sometimes seemed too long.
She wanted to be someone’s first choice so much that she hung onto the men who promised someday, and just not right now, because it was the draw of a potential high that kept her addicted—the lure of having something she’s never had before. Yet when days dragged into weeks, and weeks became buried by months, she knew that (once again) she wasn’t the first choice. Maybe she wasn’t even the second or third, but really all along it was a secret so seductive it couldn’t ever be whispered aloud.
If it had just been about sex all of the time, then it might have been easier for her to barricade her door to these men once and for all—but it never was. She knew that she touched a special place in each of these men, but perhaps it was too electrifying or too deep, because regardless of how they cared for her or what an amazing woman they thought she was—she just wasn’t the type to be their first choice.
A friend who’s known me for almost 2 decades handpicked this piece above from an article and shared it with me with a msg that read “This reminded me of you’….
Yes, it had my name written all over it. It’s like the author wrote down the story of my life. When I read this, it reminded me of my conversation with friends, of home n hearth, about how all we want is simple happiness in someone’s arms and to live the simple life, but even the mundane seems like a dream. See love isn’t a thing anymore coz its all about faking good times! We have short attention span with humans, not just gadgets. Use and throw…there’s no dearth of options. Pick what you want, leave bereft and move on.
Which makes me wonder; Do men and women want different things? Or are there people, irrespective of gender, who are alike and who want similar things? And to think that the whole cosmic circus is about meeting people who want similar things and then fitting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle? I have to admit (at the risk of being labeled “Anti-feminist”), men have always been polygamous, but the ‘liberal’ woman of today offers them ease of temporal fun without an iota of responsibility or guilt and THAT makes women like me undesirable and clingy! Cos women like me want a relationship that lasts.
The modern woman in her mission to overthrow years of submissive patriarchy is hell bent on behaving like the very man she despises. In trying to make them pay for what they do to us, we are doing the same. But eventually, the modern woman’s DNA takes over n deep down she also wants all the traditional jazz but hates to admit.
Don’t get me wrong; but having fun is something that women don’t know too well. Men use you and abuse you emotionally in the process. Not all want just booty calls, they even give attention & love but only at their convenience…
And my experience with flings is that they demand love when they want and ghost out if you demand in return. Ofcrs I can now call them flings but back then I was foolhardy to believe that it was the start of something indelible.
Anyway, I’m a sour heart so who am I to say? It’ll take me a lifetime cleansing to clean my negative emotions about how emotionally abusive my relationships have been, toxic as hell. Those eyes that once spoke even through pictures, are now silent. No lens has been able to capture those eyes lately, cos all that the lens finds is the eyes wilting under the weight of disappointments, broken promises and the endless wait.
I’m a pile of dead bodies of all the emotion and warmth I once exuberated!