You ever notice how the catch 22 can catch up with you rather quickly. The definition of cheating varies from person to person. Some people think flirting is cheating, others think it is just the act of intercourse. My definition of cheating is a bit simpler. I believe it is saying or doing something with some one else that you would not say infront of your partner. So if you are an encourageable flirt and your partner knows it, and you don't hide it or take it seriously, then it isn't cheating, but if you have an emotional relationship, and say things to someone that you wouldn't want your partner hear, then you are cheating, because you are betraying their trust. Is that going too far?? Should it simply be the act of monogomy is the only trust you need?? That it shouldn't matter what they say to others as long as it isn't ended with a meet and greet at the local Motel 6?
How much does your family's approval of your potential partner mean to you? I know it should be first and formost if you like/love the person, but after that, how much stock do you put in what your family feels, and how long does their influence matter to you? Should it only matter if you are eightteen or getting married?
For me, a man has three tests to pass, first test, is me. That includes all the little nuances that make me click and really get into a guy. If he seems like I might want to keep him around, and has shown staying power, he gets to move to stage two. The kids. My kids don't determine who I date, but if they are uncomfortable around them, if the partner talks to them in a way that is not respectful or condusive to my kids I let them go. That is the most important step. Only two people have gotten past since my husband.
The meeting of my family. I guess all families have their characters. My family is no exception. The main one is my overly loud, oppinionated, absolutely over protective and wonderful father. Most people don't know how to take him, and he has never liked any one I brought home, from the time I started dating until now! No one was ever good enough, which was odd, cause he didn't mind my other four sisters and their partners, atleast not at first.
So for my son's nineth birthday, my family showed in droves, from my permiscuous sisters, and loud country cousins, to my snooty aunts and everyone else in between. And he agreed to be a good sport and show up. First he greets the birthday boy, then is introduced to everyone else.
My dad stands up cause he is at the far table. I walk him up to introduce him with dread. And they talk, I get called away and leave him to the lions. When I come back, he isn't red faced and sullen, he isn't weaping and rocking himself in the corner, but laughing and talking. In which case my father decides to embarass me good heartedly by telling him when he makes an honest woman out of me he'll be there.
Which, honestly I could have cried. It was so moving. I married even though my dad didn't approve, he didn't show. I have had a long term boyfriend that he didn't like either. It ended badly. None of it had to do with my father's approval or disapproval but it was a nasty sore spot in my relationships and made holidays at the best a chore.
I never realized how much it meant to me. To see my partner laughing and talking with my family. To see my children hanging on him like a jungle gym. To feel complete.
But that is another blog altogether.
So, even as you get older, how much influence does your family have over your choice of partner?
Sometimes the saddest moments for another reveal a truth that is so basically selfish that it startles us. I am envious of a dying woman. She is elderly, unable to take care of herself, sitting in a nursing home. She is attached to machines that help her breath, her weak heart beat, her gray wispy hair in tiny patches now. She looks past this world, past all of the pains she feels and the pity in her families eyes. But beside her, her frail hand is entwined with another equally weather beaten and worn palm. Age spots bare witness to the sunshine of decades, the pulses you assume by now must beat in tandem. His eyes are misted with tears, he is angry she is leaving him. He has taken care of her through all sixty years of their marriage, and she him. They have shared more tears than I have in my short life cried, and more happiness than a hall of children laughing. They have battled the world together, danced together, sat on the couch and just watched Jeapordy together. And yet, she is letting go without him. He wispers still he is there, it is okay, and when she goes he will follow soon. He has been there every day. When she was admitted, he was sure to be able to wake up to eat breakfast by her side, every day. He ate dinner with her every night. He hides that he is also sick, also failing, also so very tired of this world. He just keeps wispering he loves her.
I am not envious of her in a way that I wish I was going, but that I had lived a life that full of love. That amount of dedication.
I know it is out there. She isn't the only one. As lovers age, they are chosing to spend their last days together, side by side in the nursing home, or assisted living envirnment. They are still sharing laughter andd tears, still talking of their children and grand children and of times past and friends lost. They keep each other going. The companionship of decades of friendship, the closeness of lovers and soul mates. And most times they die shortly after each other. I have known them to die within weeks of one another, one finally letting go to follow their true love to what ever awaited them. Or the true love coming to bring them home.
I want a love like that. I want a love that spans decades, not a few months of feverish devotion, followed by awkward endings. I want to look back and have shared memories with my children that included a partner.
Am I foolish?? It can't be all fairy tales. I have seen it. Defying death and hopelessness. Lighting a room full of despair.
If you had from this moment forward been given a definate number of days, in what was an indefinate life, how would that affect you? If you knew your fight would be tougher than any other would you feel pity or a surge of fear? What are those five steps? Denial, Anger, Acceptance and Peace?? What is the other one?
The clock is really ticking for us all, I guess a heads up isn't all that bad in the grand scheme of things.
So, in being mortal, in facing the inevitabilty that the shell you own is decaying what are five things you would change about the way you do things??
You can't change the past, you can't develop super powers. How do you want to live? What do you want to leave behind?
I recently signed up for this site a few days ago after I had finally decided that my newest distraction was not interested in pursuing anything. He has always been one to come and go, and is insanely busy. He is a definite bbw lover so I know attraction is not an issue. We reconnected after two years of me not communicating due to some unrelated personal trials. He had always asked about me, kept in touch and told me how much he missed me. The only reason we stopped talking in the first place is I would mistake his absences as not wanting me instead of just being exhausted by his job, and I would move forward.
Alright, fast forward to January, I see him once, talk to him like crazy, commit to be what I consider to be exclusive, then he disappears for a month. When he messages me again, it is because he still on my text list of people who get personal information when I get out the hospital. He seems worried, and genuinely sorry he disappeared, has a very good reason. But still doesn't show interest in being more.
I just enjoy his company; it doesn't matter to me if we are just friends that is awesome too.
Then Saturday he invites me for lunch at his place and I jump at the chance to just get out. When I show up he is well, him. Perfectly charming, absolutely a gentleman and playful with his brilliant blue eyes that hypnotize me. It always feels as nothing has changed when we are together.
I mentioned how much I loved his place, and he pulls out a key! tells me to come over whenever I am welcome.
I object as that is way too much, oh hell I don't know, trust??, too intimate?, but he insists, and I take it, as he is also the most stubborn man I know on occasion.
I left on a cloud of giddy confusion later that night. He is so bewildering from anything I have ever known.
Then I message him this morning, and again, he is busy. Which is okay with me, I don't expect to hear from him for a while. But I have a million questions going through my mind. I can't read him like I can read most men. I usually have a good grasp as to what to expect.
It could be my insecurities that make me feel like he is otherwise distracted, as the last relationship I was in was very demanding and needy. It could be that he communicates in actions instead of words.
Am I reading too much into a simple gesture? Am I reading too much into his disappearances and busy life? Perhaps I just shouldn't read at all and go full blast into it, hell with the inevitable heartache.
A little nervous as this is my first time blogging on this site, I have reviewed some of the most popular posts and find no real continuous idea. Does that mean we can post about anything? From daily gripes to great first dates? Or does that mean strickly BBW related questions? Could someone comment on the quaility of people here? If they are quick to jump at a chance to riddicule or would rather laugh and mingle? I am really looking foward to making new friends and opening up some new doors.