The first time I met her i almost put her in the too hard basket cos of her reluctance to open up to me and my difficulty understanding her accent but the more I got to know her the easier she became to understand.
It was love at first sight for me but for her it took a little longer to warm to my intense in your face interrogative deep probing intrusive often complex and offensive personality.
I try to dumb myself down when I’m with her cos I don’t know how much she is getting of what I’m saying even though she is older than me so I naturally assume that makes her wiser also but apart from intense prolonged periods of daily exercising her evangelical abilities for almost a year she mostly utilizes her mental faculties for practical every day purposes such as taking care of her pigs and chickens and making sure her bosses business is running smoothly and not falling apart at the seams.
I was scared to interact with her best friend and boss’s daughter cos I found myself crushing on her from the get go and unfairly comparing her to my girlfriend cos she was younger and had a better command of the English language or more boldness to share her skills seeing as she came from a more stable home environment and had confidence presumably instilled in her from birth.
Of course insecure people can also cover their bundle of nerves under a thick layer of boldness which is something I have a tendency to do.
It doesn’t help that I saw her best friend in short boxers the day before she left me forever.
It didn’t matter so much then cos there was more of a guarantee that i would see her again sometime soon in the not too distant future.
Now my stupid message has torpedoed all hope of us ever being together and blown it out of the water.
I feel nothing but suicidal thoughts and despair right now.
Mum thinks I’m depressed cos I feel guilty about masturbation.
I do but that’s not what makes me weep anytime she tells dad she loves him or someone pays me a compliment i feel i don’t deserve.
It’s messed up that you can sing a song about angels and demons or heaven and hell and get it played on almost any radio station but if you mention God or Jesus only Christian stations will touch it.
In most areas of my life i pin my hopes higher than my ability to deliver but I thought at least with my love life i had everything figured out.
I knew I still had to iron out some kinks in my relationship but things were mostly going along swimmingly.
It’s not that I’m incapable of finding love.
It’s just that I struggle with sticking to loving just one woman particularly when there are so many fine fillies out there.
It’s easy to rationalize my behavior and tell myself I’m only attracted to her holiness and not her hotness.
there’s nothing wrong with this if she actually belongs to me but it becomes a problem if either she or i belong to someone else.
Writing can be cathartic.
It can be a healing or releasing experience especially when you feel you can’t share your thoughts with anyone out loud apart from your quiet whispers to Jesus in the solitary secret place.
If a woman takes me on board by necessity she will have to fight against the uncertainty that she is more than enough for me and I intend to spend my whole entire lifetime proving that she is.
I didn’t expect her to be my salvation.
I’m not that naive.
I know that role uses shoes only Jesus can fill.
I can’t believe it’s over but I’m forced to deal with the grim nasty horrible reality that it is and it’s all my fault.
I always think the grass is greener on the other side til I reach the other side and realize the green grass was growing all around me and now its brilliant blades ,this milk producing catalyst has been blown all the way to the Solomon Islands.
Now my precious green jade treasure is locked in a cage and buried underground never to be found.
Maybe it has been thrown in a fire or crushed between the hungry munching sharp swords of a starving dragons teeth.
Why do people who deliberately or accidentally misspell or use truncated or mangled grammar get famous while I wallow in the opulent surroundings of my suburban heaven hole.
I could be one hook making ability away from being a famous artist in art or music.
I could easily rest on the laurels of my stillborn daydreams but I refuse to give up on myself that easily.
I should have just recognized the limits of my ability to interact with this American girl as nothing but friendship but I saw the invisible possibility of a wife where none existed.
Not that I mentioned marriage to her but she was a smart enough cookie to put 2 and 2 together and come up with 4 even though I pretended it was 4000.
Dredging up old memories seems to be the only thing that is keeping me going right now.
She was one of those rare women you could talk about love and marriage with on the first day and she wouldn’t run for the hills screaming.
She didn’t want to talk about her past relationships.
She wouldn’t even mention their names though her savvy friends figured out one of mine and used her existence against me or more specifically the words of love i used to describe her body parts.
I am shameless and bold in my affection.
I have no reason or motivation to cringe and hide my head in a bush.
She is so different from my past relationship who kept asking me to actively promote our relationship or maybe just herself through sharing her pictures.
I guess she figured out i tend to attract more haters than fans with my volatile vitriolic and sometimes godly posts which could potentially taint her market value by association with me.
I started getting fearful for the future of our relationship once I knew she was one of those people that has to fly in and out of the country all the time.
Once I had gotten over this fear i had to deal with the far worse reality of her not being legally allowed back into the country.
By that time i had already allowed her access to parts of myself that none of my exes were allowed to touch even in the privacy of her own domicile where none of her family members were home to distract us from our secret love making business and only God’s eyes were looking down on us in shame at our dirty minded behavior.
My words may be like swords of truth that cut through people’s bones into their flesh.
I get no sadistic pleasure from hurting and offending people merely from being a part with my small beacon of light in the proliferation of the truth slicing ribbons of hope through the darkness.
Perhaps my motivation may be confused as my desire to make money is mixed with my desire to use my skills for ministry.
These motivations aren’t by necessity mutually exclusive they can become complimentary to each other.
Dc talk was known to say is this one for the people or is this one for the Lord
Well maybe it’s both cos we all need Jesus in our hearts.
Marketing ministry is just a tool to get truth into minds and hearts that little bit faster.
It doesn’t have to be a cold cynical mechanical profit orientated thing.
I should warn any women potentially seeking a relationship with me that if you don’t want me to call you sexy lips on public posts you have to tell me cause I’m thick as a brick and I’m not gonna figure something like that out by myself.
I don’t want to make my parents mad at me.
It seems like a seesaw.
I can’t make them both pleased with me simultaneously.
One will always be happy and the other cranky unless I become some mindless robot with no will of my own that just does every seemingly pointless task required for me to complete and never answers back because I don’t have the cognitive function to generate an adequate response.
I hope my future kids don’t treat me the way i treat, my parents currently.