Just out of my reach

I have been on a mission of sorts for over the last year. I wanted to learn more about myself, what I was capable of emotionally with someone else. In the past I have been so quick to give myself away, I wanted to learn how to control my emotions and still have relationships with men. So this led to me having guy friends who I can connect with on a level that you can't really do with some random guy. Its really been a learning experience for me. I have learned what I want from a guy. I have learned (for the most part) how to keep my emotions in check. I have found a guy or two that I can just be myself with- be honest, let my emotions show a bit but not at the risk of pushing them away. You'd think that out of the several guys I have dated, connected with, gotten to know over the last year- there'd be at least one that I'd be able to keep. However- no matter how amazing the guy is, how wonderful he and I connect- he remains out of my reach some how. I just can't seem to understand why I meet these seemingly amazing guys- who'd be amazing for me and we would fit so well, but no matter what, there is something that keeps them from being able to be just mine. Here's some examples- not ready for a relationship (this is the most common one), lives in a different city, lives in a different state, still married (though separated) and the list goes on. I'm waiting for the guy who is quite possibly the perfect combination of all of these guys in one- but available to me. There's is nothing more exasperating than having him in my hands only to have him slip through my fingers.

What's that you have?

What is that? What's that you have in your hand? I think that's mine. I'm pretty sure it is. I've seen it once or twice before. I'll have it in my possession for a while and I get to hold it then, but  it slips out of my hands, between my fingers, dripping onto the floor. It spreads like water that has it's own mind. Traveling every which way. And then it finds it's mark. Slowly, well, perhaps not so slowly now that I think of it, maybe just a bit too fast as a matter of fact, it races towards its mark. Up the target's leg, beneath his pants, then up and over the waste band and right into his pocket. You'd think the target would feel my possession slithering up his leg and creeping into his pocket. But it seems that my possession is quite sneaky, with the ability to hide in the pockets of others for quite sometime, tucked away discreetly, with the expertise of a ninja, without ever being discovered by the target. I seem to be the only one who knows of my possession's intentions. I know what the out come of it's escape is, but I am helpless to stop it. I said it has a mind of it's own. But I see you have it now in your hand. You didn't know it was there did you? When you saw it, did you know what it was or where it belonged? I didn't think so. I'm here now, you can give it back. I can see that my possession is of no interest to you. Just give it back now, it's mine.

Under Construction

If you've noticed, I have deleted previous posts. I originally started blogging as a form of catharsis. Well. It worked. I feel better about my childhood. I haven't reached a point yet where I want to write about my early adult hood. Well, I do but as of right now I am in a place where I think I need to keep my personal (super personal) business to myself until a better time. So my blog is under construction. I will keep writing here, I just am not to sure aobut what yet.