I simply cannot imagine the self that I am if I had not loved as I have up to now. There are few things that have defined me more than love and violence.
It's horrible to have never loved, but to have loved and been loved, to know the feeling of having someone love you with their whole being, and then to never have that again for the rest of your entire lifetime, is the true torture of life. I still pray for someone to come and love me in that way again. Maybe after I'm dead.
I know it's...well I dunno what, but I've loved 2 men like this...and I'd give a damned lot to have felt reciprocation. You've been blessed, and I hope you can be as blessed again. It gives me hope.
The most striking thing said to me, by at least two different people who were entirely separate and unknown to each other--and whom I encountered only in passing, in the scheme of things--was "he is not worthy of you."
It was a great freeing from the terrible chains of what you might call the chains of misapprehension when I realized that was true.
The scars remain, of course. But sometimes what's most valuable has been discovering one's own capacity to love and be generous, and the other person, for almost everything, is merely an instrument and in every other way unimportant.
In case it ain't yet entirely transparently obvious--any wisdom I managed to obtain, I had to stumble through minefields, with zero sense of direction, to get here.
What I know now that I didn't before--sometimes you have to reach a point where you can look back and survey the entire terrain you came through, and realize it all worked out. Life is more accident than anything else. You don't develop a mature understanding sometimes until you're almost too creaky to make any decent use of it.
I have loved. Intensely. Passionately. And with that loss I put even more into next love, consciously being as ( uuuuugh brain death...what's the word? Giving, non judgemental, forgiving) as I could be.
I choose poorly, it seems, however despite the pain...I cannot fathom being anything but who I am. Who I am has been carved by love and the willingness to sacrifice for it. I'm a better person, and despite the ongoing games on their part, I hope they are better men for having been loved so whole- heartedly. Corny. I know.
If one has never loved at all, how would one know?
A thermos would have a more interesting life. I mean, it keeps hot things hot and cold things cold, though how it knows remains one of life's great mysteries.
I simply cannot imagine the self that I am if I had not loved as I have up to now. There are few things that have defined me more than love and violence.
I am proud I never did anything in the least reflective of common sense.
It's horrible to have never loved, but to have loved and been loved, to know the feeling of having someone love you with their whole being, and then to never have that again for the rest of your entire lifetime, is the true torture of life. I still pray for someone to come and love me in that way again. Maybe after I'm dead.
Ah. Bandit that breaks my heart.
There's still time right?
My grandmother felt the same way, but she found love again at the ripe age of 77.
There's always hope, Ryan.
Of course, I suppose I'd have to leave the house occasionally to meet somebody. 😉😊😋
I know it's...well I dunno what, but I've loved 2 men like this...and I'd give a damned lot to have felt reciprocation. You've been blessed, and I hope you can be as blessed again. It gives me hope.
The most striking thing said to me, by at least two different people who were entirely separate and unknown to each other--and whom I encountered only in passing, in the scheme of things--was "he is not worthy of you."
It was a great freeing from the terrible chains of what you might call the chains of misapprehension when I realized that was true.
The scars remain, of course. But sometimes what's most valuable has been discovering one's own capacity to love and be generous, and the other person, for almost everything, is merely an instrument and in every other way unimportant.
I'm working on that last part, but I'm truly proud of myself in that I have grown into being able to love at that capacity, despite my life's lessons.
In case it hasn't been said lately...I'm so glad you're here.
Thank you.
In case it ain't yet entirely transparently obvious--any wisdom I managed to obtain, I had to stumble through minefields, with zero sense of direction, to get here.
What I know now that I didn't before--sometimes you have to reach a point where you can look back and survey the entire terrain you came through, and realize it all worked out. Life is more accident than anything else. You don't develop a mature understanding sometimes until you're almost too creaky to make any decent use of it.
The guys who've truly loved me were not the ones who said they did and didn't.
What you said💕
💕💕
Nothing but sympathy for the INCELS. They are truly tortured souls.
You can't genuinely love others if you hate yourself. Most of what I've seen from that community begins from self-loathing.
I think that's exactly why I pity ( and loath) them.
Loved and lost, all the way. No love, no life.
I have loved. Intensely. Passionately. And with that loss I put even more into next love, consciously being as ( uuuuugh brain death...what's the word? Giving, non judgemental, forgiving) as I could be.
I choose poorly, it seems, however despite the pain...I cannot fathom being anything but who I am. Who I am has been carved by love and the willingness to sacrifice for it. I'm a better person, and despite the ongoing games on their part, I hope they are better men for having been loved so whole- heartedly. Corny. I know.
Karma, karma...
>> consciously being as ( uuuuugh brain death...what's the word? Giving, non judgemental, forgiving)
Loved unconditionally?
Unconditional Love. Yes, thank you! I had Unconditional love as my goal.
Things are beautiful not because they last forever but that they ever were at all.
Hey, my dad's family has this story that we are somehow descended from one of Tennyson's sibs.
Nobody's ever seriously investigated whether it's true or not.
Personally I wouldn't be surprised, as my brother Dennis looked a lot like Tennyson's pic.
Oh, and Tennyson's family was largely filled with crazy fookers, and so's mine. 😆
Also:
It is better to have eaten something and thrown it up
and then eaten it again than
never to have eaten it at all.
-Dog
For some of us, the latter has never been an option.
If one has never loved at all, how would one know?
A thermos would have a more interesting life. I mean, it keeps hot things hot and cold things cold, though how it knows remains one of life's great mysteries.
I was actually really interested to hear from anyone who answered in the negative!