darkjoe89's Datingish

Question: When Your SO Talks About Exes

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 22:32:47 GMT

I have a friend who, for anonimity's sake, will call "JD". Well, JD's asked me for advice about a certain aspect of dating: What should be expected about the person you're dating when his/her new favorite subject of conversation is talking about everyone that came before JD?

When asked this question, I didn't know what to reply, because my two ex-girlfriends who surpassed their first trimester with me didn't really mention their boyfriends; yet the fact that they didn't doesn't tell me if it was a good idea or not, because: 1. I have no standard for comparison, and 2. JD's date is over 21, and the aforementioned exes of mine weren't.

So I ask anyone who's bored enough to read up to here: Is it a good, bad, or irrelevant sign that your boy/girlfriend decides to give you a VIP tour of his/her past?

After A Fire...

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 23:31:29 GMT

After a fire, ashes rebuild the earth;

After darkness, light will come;

After a storm, there's calmness;

After you?

What happens when the fire is so all-consuming that no ashes remain? Where will the light come from if my sun has been eclipsed completely? Or, say, where do you go if the storm happens to destroy everything you've ever had? What do I do, now that what has been, not the center of my life, but my life proper, is gone? Where do I go from here? What can I do?

A Question About Dating, If I May

Thu, 14 May 2009 06:05:58 GMT

Dating your friend's ex, or your ex's friend, is extremely frowned upon in America's 18-25 society. In your opinion, is it a reasonable judgement or is it just rampant jealousy?

I agree with the latter choice. Then again, I can't even buy myself a drink, so there are quite a few things I don't know, which is why I'm forwarding the question to YOU.

It's Over

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 03:50:46 GMT

Sitting in front of my laptop. For the first time in years, I feel truly heartbroken. My fairy tale, my love story that actually materialized, my relationship with the girl I love and who happened to love me back...over.

I don't even know what to write. The tears coming out of my eyes make everything blurry and, as I use my hands to wipe my face, the keyboard becomes wetter and wetter.

I...I'm just going to get off. I just need something, anything, to take my mind off this. If you have any ideas, don't hesitate to pipe up.

Ramblings of a Broken Heart

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 05:17:19 GMT

Standing in my balcony, my right arm gripping the railing with enough force to entertain the theory that I might think that the harder I grip, the more chances I have of turning back time. Teardrops from heaven add the spice to my wine glass that my own couldn't do. With a rueful smile, I berate myself for it; apparently nothing I do can add that certain zest that I've appreciated in life so much.

But how can I add that zest to my life, when my palates have been desensitized by the mere taste of you? How am I supposed to move on past you when you're everywhere? How can I breathe without thinking that you breathe the same air? How can I enjoy doing the things that I usually did, when everything I do reminds me of you? How?

As I take a sip of my tear-spiked sweet vinegar, I stare at the night, seeing only dark clouds that remind me of the thick, yet delicate, curtain of black hair that was once the only barrier between myself and my human angel. Hair so beautiful that it did the job of an exquisite appetizer, which reminds you that it's only the tip of an iceberg of nirvana. I put my glass down and take a drag out of my very first cigarette, which is almost as spent as my emotional stamina. I grimace. Ethanol and nicotine wouldn't be two of my favorite molecules if I ever created a list; they're just things that I can do that I never did when I was with you.

My hand releases the railing, balls into a fist and falls into its former handle. The sting that my fist feels from such a potent clash with the iron, however, doesn't match the pain that my body feels, a pain that I've never felt before, and one for which I was never prepared. Another sip of wine tries to drown the thought that, had it not been from you, this would definitely be more bearable. After all, I've had my heart broken before, and in every single instance I've managed to come through without feeling as hurt in all of them combined.

Why did it have to be you? Why did you have to come into my life? I was having a perfectly fine existence until you came along. Like the perfect drug, I was uplifted as I never thought I could be, only to crash harder than I imagined possible.

'Be careful what you wish for, lest it come true'. How silly and superstitious does that sound! Yet, how true are those words! If only I hadn't wished for someone like you!

Yet, as I think these words, I can't convince myself. What would've happened had I not met you? What idea would I have of something so beautiful like the past few months had I never even sat beside you in class those couple of days? Could I be able to truly understand love if I hadn't loved you first?

And so, draining the last of my tear-spiked cup of an unlucky grape's hemorrhage, I am forced to resolve that you can't truly feel the joy of smelling a pure rose without getting pricked by a few thorns. Truly, whatever pain I feel is nothing compared to the love I felt for you, to the love that, despite the excrutiating burn going through my veins right now, still beats strong through the depths of my heart.

My muse, my love, my girl that never truly was mine. How can someone instill such an effect while feeling not even the tiniest vibe? That's the one big question that meeting you has left unanswered. Maybe, one day, I'll find the answer for that. Maybe then, just maybe, I'll be able to move on. Until then, I'm resigned to spending my evenings, be there rain or pure moonlight, rambling on my balcony with a glass of wine in my right hand, a cigarette in my left one, an anchor of my heart, and the mot beautiful tumor in my memory...

I'm In Love With An Image

Sun, 08 Mar 2009 00:44:49 GMT

As far-fetched as it may seem, I seem to have found love in the weirdest of places.

Even though she's obviously taken, that doesn't stop me from waking up every morning and looking at her picture. After all, no matter how cloudy a day might be, the sun always shines in my head when it has your red hair, your beautifully pale skin, and your gorgeous sapphire blue eyes.

I know, I know. It's highly unorthodox, and it may seem like what I have is nothing less than a psychopathic obsession over you. However, it's not that your body, as seductive to my eyes as it can be, is what attracts me the most. All I want to do, more than anything in the world, is to be able to caress those round cheeks, or be able to stare deeply and get lost in the sea that shows itself through those two portals of heaven situated just below those thin auburn eyebrows, or, if I dare let myself get so carried away, gently touch your ruby lips with mine, in a kiss that would, without exaggeration, make me the happiest guy in the world. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

I know it's pathetic, and I know that the chances of the aforementioned scenarios coming to life are extremely slim-to-none. However, I can't tell that to my heart, that only beats for the sight of your angelic face everytime I log in to my computer.

Young Marriages

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 23:25:57 GMT

What a feeling it is to wonder if you really were the right person for your SO! After all, you see her wondering about loves past, keeping tender memories of a time when you were not in her life...and you're not able to reach a perfect peace of mind because you snatched her when she was way too young to do so...

Life Up In Smoke

Tue, 06 Jan 2009 07:21:21 GMT

I've been wife my wife for over a month now, and I couldn't help but notice a habit of hers. We both smoke, and we usually smoke together. However, she smokes more than I do. I've noticed this by seeing that whenever there's some time off between us, she goes out and smokes, while I just usually chill in the room.

It bothers me because, even though I'm a smoker as well, I fear that her abuse of nicotine will eventually bring her down way before her time. Whenever I've mentioned quitting as an option, she goes off on me even more than when I joke about breaking up. It even makes me feel as if she values them more than anything...

What should I do?

Neurosis Took Down Yet Another Marriage...Mine

Sun, 04 Jan 2009 07:18:53 GMT

About forty-five minutes ago, I was getting ready to do some intimate things with my wife, when suddenly an image pops up to mind: of her and a guy she hooked up with while we were on a break. It's trash residues from the past, I told myself, and proceeded to excuse myself and walk out of the room, towards this computer.

About five minutes ago, she comes up, not-quite-yelling about how, during our botched attempt, she was trying to prove to me that she was better than a past flame of mine and that she had obviously failed. The closing words to the monologue? "Go ahead. Call her. Tell her she's better than me!"

I...I have no words to say to that. How could I let my mind go this far? How did this happen?

And how the hell do I get my wife and I away from this, if there's any way at all?

The Scarlet Crush

Sun, 04 Jan 2009 04:03:07 GMT

Standing outside the building where I work at, taking a drag of my cigarette, I can't help but admire the beauty in this place, particularly her. Her short, neatly arranged auburn hair, that beautiful face with those pale cheeks and those full red lips, that skinny yet well-endowed body, and those firm legs that her white business pants hold on tight to, making me envious of a piece of clothing... It's just heaven.

Where does she work, I do not know; my sources turn out blank when it comes to the mysterious tall redhead who seems to share the same smoking times as this young magazine journalist. All I know is that she's made my chances of dying of emphysemia or lung cancer more likely. Oh, but my lungs are a small price to pay for just one glimpse of those brown eyes I always get whenever she turns to go back into the building!

What other body parts wouldn't I give to have the balls to ask her out? "Hey. How are you? Listen, this might sound a little strange, but my dad is having an engagement party, and it would be a bit awkward if his son shows up alone. Would it be possible for you to be my, um, escort for that night?" Ha! As if she'd go for that, let alone going out with a young kid like me!

The engagement party comes, and I show up with a female friend due to the fact that I'm hopeless when it comes to Miss Red. My dad, as soon as he catches my eye, hurries me over in order to introduce me to my new stepmother. From a distance I see a woman with short red hair that only falls half an inch short of my dad. As I step closer, my heart drops, taking every drop of saliva from my mouth with it. It's the lady from my building.