To each his own. To me my own.

Love

Broken Links vs. Ties That Bind

KNOT

A few days ago I was rereading an old post which contained a video I’d linked to. Upon clicking the video, I was disappointed to learn the video had been removed – I could no longer view it’s contents. I know there are countless other instances like this, each time leaving the reader (and writer) with that initial pang of disappointment of no longer having access to the linked content.

It made me wonder – why on earth would I put any stock whatsoever in the fact that the video would be there forever and ever amen? It’s a LINK for crying out loud. I was basically relying on someone else’s post to always be there on a whim, whenever I desired to see it.

C’mon link… don’t fail me now.

Anyone who knows me knows I always find a way to compare stuff like this to real life. I know there is nothing in life that’s a sure bet; it’d be stupid to think otherwise. There are, however, certain behaviors and situations we can pay attention to in order to better protect ourselves against that ‘pang of disappointment’ when we do come across those broken links in life.

The ties that bind, though… now that’s some dependable stuff. The ties that bind are rock solid through thick and thin, no matter how vicious the storm it’s weathering at the time is. The ties that bind will not jump ship when times get tough – they bind together even tighter.

KNOT

The ties that bind have unfailing love, devotion and respect. They rise in the morning knowing no matter what the day holds, they will do what they wholeheartedly believe to be the right thing. The ties that bind are completely equal in their endeavors… never unbalanced. The ties that bind are the secure threads that keep you dry as it’s pouring rain outside. The ties that bind safeguard the well being of loved ones with those very threads.

I choose the faithful ties that bind over the links that will almost always eventually break. Even though it’s taken me a lifetime to learn it.


This I Promise You… my Forever.


For an enhanced viewing experience, ⬆ just click the play arrow above!

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Okie-dokie, Doggy Daddy…

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And guess what… WE DID IT!!

What started out as any other beautiful sunny September day slowly and surely graduated to rain as the evening fell. Ah, well. Thank goodness for that glorious Plan B, which is one big reason we chose this particular venue. Besides, a little rain never hurt nothin’.

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The original plan was to be married by the lake in front of a beautifully draped alter adorned with hanging crystals to reflect the sun and water. As it turns out, we wed indoors in front of the fireplace – nonetheless very beautiful in it’s own unique way. (And believe me, I’ll find a fanciful DIY project with which to use the hanging crystals and reams of unused alter material!)

In addition, I’ll always have the memory of that beautiful sunset night at rehearsal.

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While our real pictures are pending final edits from the photog, we’re currently depending on the ones our friends and family have so graciously supplied.

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This man has made my dreams come true. Speaking of which, after the ceremony we danced back down the aisle to our chosen recessional “You Make My Dreams Come True” by Hall & Oates, with everyone behind us following suit. I consider it my very own True Romance. Hey, Tarantino… can ya top that one?


One Love

My post is simple today, though indeed thought-provoking. Below would be my number one pick of all Bob Marley’s quotes. The amount of love that erupts from this one wise paragraph has always overwhelmed me. Even so, I never could grasp the full intensity of it – just the intense yearning to someday find this beautiful kind of unconditional love. One without judgement, one that makes you want to learn new things, one that makes you feel beautiful, one where you openly invite vulnerability into your life.  One Love.

Hope you enjoy.

OneLove


Love, Devotion and Selflessness

Keith’s father’s wedding was this past weekend, and it was a beautiful ceremony centered completely around love. My future sister and her husband hosted a lovely reception at their house afterwards, which was so enjoyable. Keith’s side of the family is very kind and loving, so the time we enjoy with them is always priceless.

The older I get, the more cognizant and appreciative I am of incessant acts of selflessness. Every good thing I witness reminds me to try and be a better person. I look at it as a sort of pay-it-forward view on life, for lack of a better term.

The priest officiating the ceremony spoke about the sanctity of marriage and how you wake up each morning with the goal of putting your spouse’s needs before your own. Just because of that thing called Love. Because that’s what real love does, you want to give as much as possible when you love someone that much. It’s a mutual respect between each other that is never ending – it’s not something that changes with passing time.

When dinner time came, we stood back and waited on others to get theirs. I’ve always preferred to get my plate after everyone else has gotten theirs, never first or even middle. Keith attempted to hand me an empty plate and usher me in line. I politely refused, telling him I’d rather wait. He went on about midway through and filled his plate, while I stood conversing with a few family members. A few moments later Keith stood smiling in front of me, presenting me with a large plate of food. What he had just gotten was for me.

Now I know this might not sound like a monumental act of kindness to some, but to me it speaks volumes as to the type of man he is. This is Keith, every day. Even after four years, he’s constantly putting my needs above his own, as I do his. When I wake up every morning, he’s the first thing I think about. He’s the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. We both hold a strong mutual respect for each other. Our time apart at the beginning of the year only served to make us stronger, resulting in deeper devotion to each other as one whole. As it should be. As it always will be…

Have I mentioned we can’t wait for September to roll around?


Hope is my safe haven

I went to see the new Nicholas Sparks movie Safe Haven over the weekend. There’s something about Sparks’ books and movies that have always drawn me to them – I’m fairly certain the ever-hopeless romantic in me would be the biggest reason. I also love being able to closely relate with the locality he incorporates into his stories. Sparks is from New Bern, NC and he always chooses a place within close proximity to his hometown for the story’s local. Safe Haven was filmed in the coastal town of Southport, NC – a town that’s dear to my heart. We used to vacation at the beach right up from Southport, and even rode the same ferry they took in the movie when we visited the Southport Aquarium.

Although a little slow… it was a good movie. I have this terrible knack of comparing all of Sparks’ story lines with The Notebook, which set the bar at an unprecedented height for any subsequently written stories.

Back in 2008 when I began my journey to build a new life, I adorned the theater on three separate occasions to see Nights in Rodanthe. My girlfriends teased me relentlessly for this – but that movie was (and still is) mesmerizing to me. I related so closely with it for several reasons; the middle age of the characters, the setting of the beautiful Outer Banks beach with the horses, and the fact that, from time to time, love can in fact resurface it’s pretty little head for a second chance. To this day, Nights in Rodanthe still remains one of my favorites. I even followed the real-life story of the house (Serendipity) being relocated to a safer location to avoid erosion from the ocean a few years back. I’d wished for the opportunity to visit it in person before that happened.

Two steps forward, three steps back, as they say. There is an absolute downside of being a romantic at heart. Combine said trait with a Pisces nature and a breakup and (BAM!) it can quite literally be a recipe for disaster. I know I need to get my head out of the clouds for a moment and realize there is nothing perfect out there – nor are there any fairytales, as much as I’d love to believe there are. I guess if I had to sum total it all in a nutshell… hope is what I derive from these stories.

And I’m always up for a little bit of that.


Neither here nor there

It took me a month to pack and less than a week to unpack. For some reason, I’ve always struggled with packing. Not just with moving, but with packing for a trip or vacation as well. It’s always easy for me to unpack and stick the stuff back in it’s respectful places – but gathering items and organizing them in boxes is hard for me. I think it’s largely due to my ocd about categorizing things. I also tend to want to clean out when I’m packing… I’ll abandon a box and go in search of other ‘like’ items to combine with it. Before I know it, an hour has passed and I’m still on the same box.

This got me thinking about life in general. I don’t necessarily have issues with making a change – I am a Pisces, after all. If a Pisces isn’t comfortable with the direction their life is headed, it’s a well-known fact that they will simply disappear or swim away in the other direction. That’s not to say that finding the courage to actually make that change is easy. Once the change is made however, my organizational skills are unmatched. If I can say one positive thing about myself, it’s my ability to organize – once the deed is done, so to speak.

It’s slowly beginning to dawn on me how much of myself I put into a relationship. It would also seem that I’m easily replaceable. Over the past several years I’ve lost a huge chunk of me that I’m now struggling to find again, and it’s frustrating. I must give myself time and patience in this endeavor, in as much as time passed through which I allowed that loss.

But guess what? I’ve already started.


We. I mean, I.

It seems to be the hardest thing to ditch, this transition from the plural “us/we” to singular “I/me”. This morning I was telling a neighbor about the discipline training “we’d” gotten for Mojo. I recognized my blunder as soon as it came out of my mouth, and walked away feeling awkward.

Right now I’m angry. I hate admitting it, but I am. As I look back on the mistakes I’ve made, I’m angry at myself for being so naive. I’m angry for staying, for believing, for surrendering my whole heart to someone who didn’t appreciate it for what it was worth, for holding out hope, and for all the wasted time. I’m angry at him for being such a damn good receiver. For the lack of communication, for the broken promises when the hand of communication was forced, and for the sheer selfishness that made him, well – him. I’m angry at him for not even once asking me to stay. It stands to reason that I have been played for a genuine fool.

There are some hard lessons to learn in life. Sometimes that one ‘sure thing’ that feels so certain turns out to be the devil himself dressed in a thin veil. As my dear uncle used to say – such is life, I suppose.

One thing’s for certain – the walls surrounding this ticker will be rock-solid from here on out.


Thinking Out Loud

Right before bedtime last night, I found out another friend of mine had gotten engaged. I’m uber-happy for her because, well, because she’s a wonderful person and she deserves it. She has three years invested with this man, and they both know full well what they’re getting into. Isn’t her ring absolutely gorgeous??

Which got me thinking (uh-oh). Three years. That’s almost how long I have invested. Don’t worry, I’m not going there again. Oops… guess I just did.

That dreaded Kenny Rogers song has been ringing in my head all morning, so I thought I’d do you all a favor and put it in your heads too.

“You gotta know when to hold ’em… know when to fold ’em… know when to walk away, and know when to run. You never count your money… when you’re sittin’ at the table – they’ll be time enough for countin’… when the dealin’s done.”

You’re welcome.


Two Years

On August 1st, Keith and I will have been joined at the hip for two years. It’s hard for me to believe. It’s been the quickest two years of my life.

Being as how I wrote about it in length last August, I’ll just reiterate the fact that I’m happy beyond words and leave it at that. If you have any desire to hear me gush on about it, you can read last year’s post.

I just bought his anniversary present today. Wish I could say what it is in this post – but on the off-chance of him reading this, I’d be screwed (I’ll be sure to fill ya in later). I hope he likes it.

It really is the little things in life that count. Like being together and making memories. Experiencing the overwhelming feeling of complete love and trust. Just being happy. Actually, I consider being happy a huge thing…


Olive Juice

I was recently told that a friend of mine’s father now tells him he loves him before they hang up. It comes at a time later in life for him, but I realize how much it must mean to finally hear his father say I love you after all these years. It’s definitely better late than never.

I tell my close friends I love you before we part ways or hang up. I tell my mother and father I love you every night before we end the call. Of course, I tell Keith I love you more times per day than I care to count. I tell my beloved little Camille I love you before I leave her to go to work.

It’s three simple words that mean so very much. It feels good to say them, and it gives the recipient a feeling of such worth. If you feel it, it’s okay to say it. If it feels awkward that first time, no worries – that’ll fade quickly.

Can you say it too much or too often? Is it ever overused? I don’t believe so. Nah – not at all.


Love, and Time

Recently I came across a video that made quite an impression on me, and I’d like to share it with you this morning. Most of you already know that I’m one of the world’s biggest romantics. In fact, I thought I might be the biggest – up until now.

If you haven’t seen this… please take a few quiet minutes and check it out. It’s filled my heart with such joy. The story of Danny and Annie Perasa — how they met, and how they stayed in love for twenty-seven years — continues to inspire those who hear it. You can read more about them here.

And yes, this kind of love is still out there. Amazing.


Mi amore

I’m eagerly anticipating the weekend more than I can even say. I don’t have anything planned – no places to be at or people to visit. Just a couple of free days to spend with the man I love so very much. (Sigh) If I were to allow myself, I could easily get lost in writing about how I feel about him. I’m so thankful for a second chance at love and happiness in life, and realize how very lucky I am to have found him.

A friend and I were talking about love and relationships in general the other day. It’s funny how when you’re in the beginning-to-mid stages of a relationship, your own ‘me time‘ is important to have. ‘Me time‘ is essential to a healthy relationship. Here’s the thing – for quite a while now I’ve found that during my me time, all I think about is when I’ll see him again. Oh I know, I’ve got it bad. You just hush now, Bon.

Happy weekend, everyone – and blessings to all.


Miles away from Ordinary

Sitting in front of the Atlantic ocean writing a blog has just now become one of my favorite things to do. My love is beside me, as well as a cooler full of cold beers… and waves are crashing so rhythmically that it’s a sound finer than that of any music I’ve ever heard.

I stole the idea from Perpetually Peeved to keep track of blog ideas via the ‘notes’ app on my iPhone. Works pretty well… although mine are far less interesting than hers. Here’s what I have so far, in raw form:

• People wading around in the cold ocean, and swimming in the unheated pool.
• Old couple walking the dog with the ball in his mouth the whole time.
• Beautiful bright spinning star that changes colors (Sirius).
• ‘Beetlejuice’ star that is constantly red, part of the constellation ‘Orion’ the Hunter.
• Waiting for a prettier shell to come along.

There’s more that packed this already jumbled head but I’m still trying to get the hang of jotting things down before I forget! It’s not fun maneuvering a blog around via a phone, so I’ll end this with an attempt to load a picture.

Blessings to all for a wonderful weekend!!


Flip flops

It’s gonna be that ‘great kind of weekend’. Got a room reserved waiting for us at the beach, just need to get down there. Only flip flops shall adorn these feet this weekend, as I’m not taking any other kind of shoes. Well, maybe I will take some tennies – but as a last of the season rebellion I’ll strive hard not to wear them.

Hope everyone has a beautiful and blessed weekend…


Surroundings

She loves it so
her natural habitat, the current and waves
a bond that could never be broken

Clear turquoise water
flows through her gills
tepid and calm, and she’s free

Yet thoroughly enveloped.

This beautiful realm, her armor
no worries, no pain; no sorrows, no strife
dangers prevalent, instincts trusted

Abundant sustenance, no rich, no poor
no lies, no deception
beauty thrives in every direction
and time is never defined.

The fish is me. The current, Keith.

~BM, 2010

Above art © J. Vincent Scarpace ~ http://www.ipaintfish.com


Honorable mention

I had a meaningful conversation with a coworker this morning. This guy is good as gold – case in point, he initially came in offering a bunch of cans of Progresso soup that he’d gotten in a terrific sale for a buck each. I’m thinking he must’ve bought the entire store out yesterday. I jokingly told him that with the fifty dollars worth he brought in this morning alone, his trunk must’ve been dragging the asphalt! After work today, he’s going back to buy more, and he’s planning to stock it here for other’s lunches that might be without.

While in the kitchen fixing up the morning caffeine, he talked about his kids and how they were doing in school, and how hard math was for his son. He asked if my daughter was my only one and I told him yes. He asked if it was hard for me and my husband while she was in school, when she started dating, etc., to which I replied extremely – but that I had tremendous respect for others like his self who had two and three kids in school simultaneously. Looking back on that time in life, I guess we had it pretty easy.

He asked me how long I’d been married and that it must have been hard for it to end. I agreed and said it was the absolute hardest thing EVER. That it’s easy for someone to say they understand – but it’s a pain that can only be understood by someone who has been through it their own self. That I used to be that person on the other side, saying I understood. That I’m ashamed of the fact I used to think ‘gosh, why don’t they snap out of it already?’. That because you left doesn’t always mean you wanted it to end. That it can take literally years of work to get through it. That if you were truly emotionally invested in a long-term marriage, then working through the ending of it probably will take years.

After hearing all this, he was probably sorry he’d even asked. But he always has been a good listener. 🙂

In the years we’ve all known him here, it’s always been obvious how much this guy loves his family – his wife and kids are his world. When he speaks of his wife, he does so with a gleam in his eye. The level of appreciation and respect they have together is very apparent. As we started back to work, I told him to never lose that love and respect – to hold on to it… cherish it. To which he replied with a smile, ‘I tell my wife I love her ten times a day, or more. I won’t lose it.’ Hearing that put a smile on my face the whole walk back to my desk.


Mexican’t

I feel the need to rant today, because… well I don’t really have any other material. So welcome to Life of Bon – Curmudgeon at Large.

My flowers... had to post... ♥

The boyfriend and I went out for Mexican last night at our favorite little local restaurant. We noticed as soon as we walked in that the place was dead – both inside and outside on the deck. Seeing as how the weather was so very balmy, we decided to dine outside on the huge covered deck.

A sweet little guy brings out the chips, K orders his usual stout mug of beer, and I a nice glass of merlot. The sky is a Carolina blue outside, it’s warm, and the company is beyond excellent. Beer is cold, wine is perfectly tempered, salsa is hot…

Life is good.

Enter couple with two screaming kids, who are ushered out onto the deck and promptly seated at the table directly behind us. Not at another end, not a couple of tables down even, but less than a foot behind me at the very table that backed ours. Before I continue, let me clarify that I DO NOT hate small children. NOR was it these people’s fault that they were seated where they were.

What I AM saying is the restaurant staff should know to insert at least a little space between two different sets of people with totally different scenarios…

Setting One: A couple, obviously not married, no wedding rings; in love nonetheless, once again obvious from their holding hands across the alcoholic beverage-adorned table. From the way the two are gazing at each other, they could quite possibly be the only ones existing within their own little world.

Setting Two: A couple, very obviously married from flash of wedding rings, arguing loudly while walking to their table; she with huge diaper bag over shoulder of one arm, toddler in the other, he with larger kid in tow – all proceeding to light up the entire existence with their extra-amplified voices. Birds outside are scurrying to take flight before the earthquake ensues.

Again, not their fault they were seated where they were seated. We proceed to try and continue enjoying our dinner out, when lo and behold – another thunderous approach. This new “group” has four, count ’em four, kids that resemble stair steps. The one being carried by Daddy is already crying and proceeds to whine and cry the entire dinner. So just where do these kind patrons get seated? This time, how about the table directly beside us.

At this point, nothing would have surprised us. Or so I thought.

Within the next ten minutes (our food hadn’t even arrived yet) two more sets of people with kids were ushered in (or should I say out?) and seated – ALL within the only ‘general vicinity’ that was left around us. We were now completely surrounded. At this point, we’re both feeling as out of place as a hunter might feel onstage at a PETA gathering. It was surely hilarious by this point – but the hilarity of it all was cut short due to a little girl seated at the table directly ahead of us falling backwards out of her chair. Everyone froze after hearing the sound of her head hitting the floor. You know that delayed reaction with kids when they have to *inhale gasp* in order to get their breath before the initial screams escape? Hers lasted about 10 whole seconds. She ended up being okay, and even played it up later by grinning at us as she ‘limped’ off the deck when leaving. (Hey kid, I thought you hit your head?)

Where’s the Tylenol. And Tequila.


God Bless the Broken Road

I heard it again on the way to work the other morning. It’s been a favorite song of mine for a little over a year now – admittedly about how long I’ve been listening to country music.

I often wonder just how many individuals this song has affected in a positive way. A good friend of mine got married last month, and her wedding theme was based around the song. The lyrics never cease to captivate me. When life was at it’s bleakest, out of the darkness came something along the lines of a northern star… pointing me down exactly the right path, and into the arms of that special someone. The various stumbles and falls along my path were actually paving the way for another another chance at life – and at love.

I’ve always believed there is a reason for everything. We many not understand our troubles at the given time, but God is so good. He knows our hearts, our hurts, every tiny little piece of us. He will provide, if only we will place our trust completely in Him.

I set out on a narrow way, many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn’t see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
Yes He did

I think about the years I spent, just passing through
I’d like to have the time I lost, and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You’ve been there, you understand
It’s all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

But now I’m just rolling home into my lover’s arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you


A fish named Bonnie

Oh how I’ve missed my little blog! I feel the weight of a thousand plus words just waiting to be written, though I’ll spare you that one today. It really is amazing how dependent I’ve gotten on this ‘release valve’ of mine (I love calling it that) and when I can’t write, or vent, well – it’s like a part of me is missing.

Late last week I graciously acquired a case of the intestinal flu. I have not been this sick in at least twenty years – it literally landed me on my ass. This is something that I would not wish on my very worst enemy. I was more than a little concerned over our beach trip and the fact that my boyfriend would also contract this highly contagious virus, since we’d been together for dinner just the night prior. Amazingly enough, as of right now post-weekend – he’s still virus-free. I thank the Lord for this.

So we had our little beach trip. 🙂 K called it ‘one of the most amazing times he’s ever had’ to which I have to agree. Ironically enough, his sister and her husband were also taking a trip down there, staying 2 blocks up from us! It made for double fun, we got together for a bikini lunch on the beach then had dinner later at Murrell’s Inlet, and barhopped a couple of venues there on the tiki strip.

Saturday night, we went out to the infamous Garden City Pier (I heart this place) where in peak season, a band plays at both ends of the pier. We actually found a table at the end of the pier where the band Coldshot was playing. Keith made a dream of mine come true when he stood and held his hand out to me for our first slow-dance ever on the pier. I can honestly say I have never been more in love with him than at that very moment – and it’s that moment in time I know I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

Another first happened when we were in the ocean – we were about waist-deep (chest-deep with the waves) when he noticed about 100 or so feet out a pack of dolphins gracing us with their presence. As the waves allowed, we watched them move rhythmically in and out for about 8 minutes from one side of the ocean to the other, until they finally faded from our sight. I’ve never physically been in the ocean and privy to dolphin sitings all at once, and we both felt very privileged.

I’ll even go so far as to say it was magical. But then again… so was the dance.