A Moment in Time

A Moment in Time
There comes a moment in one’s life that you realize that something’s wrong. You are just not sure of what it could be. Maybe it is the lack of money. Nah. I can do without wealth I have so far. Maybe it is the lack of family. Nope. My family loves care and me for me. We have our differences but then who does not. Maybe it is the lack of friends. Hell no. Friends are a dime a dozen, they come, they go, they blend. Those quarters are the ones you keep close to you. I have my buck fifty and I am very happy and fortunate to have those few friends. Scattered across the US table and underneath the bed somewhere, but they are my friends and I love them dearly.

I digress, there is something missing in my life, and I know what it is. It is called patience. I see my family, friends, relatives, and characters on TV. You all are *&^ crazy. I mean craaaazy for putting up with other people’s mess. REALLY? Is that what love is all about? Putting up with someone’s mess?

I can barely put up with myself. I know I am an ass to put up with. I am hard, conceited, flaky, dependable, honorable, deceitful, loving, caring, indifferent, insensitive, and the list goes on and on. Some positive, which is why you love me. Some negative which probably outweigh the positive ones. However, who is keeping the balance. ME. That is who.

I am keeping balance. Therefore, the question is: How much shit can you put up with from someone else? Okay, maybe two questions. WHY? Why would you put up with it? Do you put up with it because you do not want to be alone?
Love is a great thing, Mind you, if you have the patience and the hard headedness of putting up with it. I put up with my family and they put up with me, which technically means that have to put up with more. That is family you are born into it. You are blood related you are each other.
When it comes to someone else? Why would you put up with it?
If you can answer this, then I will understand more. Help me understand why I would want to put up with someone just to be in bed with him.
I admit I would love to have someone to hold me or hold on to when I am asleep. To tell him my hopes, dreams and fears. Listen to him as he counts his hopes, dreams, and fears.
The best part of having friends is that I do not have to put up with them for more than a couple of hours. I say goodbye and go on for a few days or a week. I cannot imagine putting up with those that I know for more than three hours in a row and for more than one day at a time.
Help me understand, why would you put up with them?
Love is blind. OMG. Love is not blinding. It’s stupefying. And to think, I’m here telling you my woes about wanting to be in love and have a lover and all of that. I guess I need to be patient and actually want to put up with someones s#$t for a while.


Dear Andy my boyfriend has no respect for me

Dear Andy, I am 35 years old. I am Hispanic and I think that my boyfriend has no respect for me and doesn’t make me feel that I have worth. He’s always interrupting me when I’m talking and wants me to focus on his day. If I have a problem, he tells me that there’s nothing he can do. He won’t listen to the problem and just be there for me. He has slowly taken me away from my parents and siblings. I used to see them all the time and now I’m lucky if I see them for the holidays. He makes up excuses that we’re busy so I don’t go.

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My Cowboy

My Cowboy

A cowboy walks before me. Is that Jake? He looks like Jake. What kind of car is he driving? The same walk. Why do cowboys wear skin-tight jeans? His cowboy shirt loose not tight and stretched on his toned frame. He used to favor dark colors, now wearing a light blue shirt. His short, blond hair? Should it be gray by now? It seems like the last twenty years have not changed him. What kind of woman would put up with him? Does he beat her up, or does he respect her because she is a woman?

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“Melvin, Melvin!” Lukas yelled down the hallway as fast as a tall and round ten-year-old could take him. Busting into his grandfather’s room he jumped on the bed. Heaving and catching his breath he sat on his grandfather. “Melvin. Wake up. It’s Pumpkin Spice season. We’re going to go shopping.”

The weight of the boy pushed the air out of Melvin’s lungs. Pumpkin Spice season. Already? Melvin opened his eyes to a round, freckled face, ginger boy’s emerald eyes. Pushing Lukas to the side and taking a deep breath, he rubbed his hands together with excitement. “I get to make my special Pumpkin Spice recipe. Just like my grandmother used to make in Germany.” I think he’s big enough. I don’t believe Lukas’ body can get any bigger.