All of These are Important

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To love is to be alive
To be loved is to live
To care is to abundantly provide without expectation in return
To be cared for is humbling while desiring to return the same
To need is human
To be needed is fulfillment and care and love
Separate these all matter, but together they create
a life everyone desires.
Love, care, need, help, do, be. Live abundantly!
Image Credit: gabytaangeles.tumblr.com

I Love Paris!

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The sun is up and the morning has shown her beautiful face.
I dress for the day as the light breeze floats through the window.
The blossoms launder the room with their fragrance and their
shadows dance on my face, and bed while they move about in
between the sun and shadow.
I smell Parisian coffee from the cafe’ below my window.
I hear small silver clinking and spreading the luscious tasties on
warm delicious breakfast morsels.
The day is glorious and I get to spend it HERE!
The morning beckons and I push my door open to see this
beautiful city Paris!

The Song Remembers

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There is a place in everyone’s heart that doesn’t seem to have a switch with a mappable location.
It snuggles in, hidden from your sight, even hidden from your life, but makes itself aware in small subtle ways over the course of our lives.
To call it a switch is unkind really, as to actually turn it on is transformative.  The change takes place in your entire being, your heart beats faster, hands seem to be shaky, legs less sure.  The mind however, no words can describe the changes there.  Once the change happens, the mind becomes euphoric, or depressingly sad. The delicious meal that was causing so much happiness suddenly turns to gruel in the mouth. Of course, the opposite is also true.  The tears falling with no possible end, may suddenly change to divine joy in which for every tear the sun shines brighter, and even the rain turns into a pitter and patter of diamonds dropping out of the sky.
I’m talking of course about the power of music, a sound, a smell and its ability to conjure up memories from a far off time.  The switch of course is that single moment when you were doing one thing, in fact, you were living your life as if nothing had ever happened. You were effectively doing things any human would do, and then out of nowhere something changes. Your ear hears a sound, you smell a meal, a flower, even a smell that means nothing to anyone else near you.
This single moment changes everything.
The second your mind hears said audible note, or notes, you’re transformed. If the memory is a good one, it feels like being wrapped in a soft blanket on a cold day, or hugging a long lost friend for a long period of time without the worry of needing to let go.  If it is a reminder of a loss, then time seems to stop, you feel your body twist backwards through the tunnel of sadness, and your entire being is as emotionally distraught as if the event just happened again.
Sometimes these memories are so powerful, the person you were before the memory, and the person you become after are two completely different versions.  Some people have regressed so far as if they either lost 30 years and appear as a young boy or girl.  Others mature to the point of “walking out of a there a new woman.” There is simply the possibility that the memory will bring with it joyous thoughts which float around the mind, change the eyes, and mouth for a small minute and disappear as if they never floated back.  Others will roar back and take over, possibly never leaving and effectively changing the individual for the rest of their living life.
How can it be that one sound, one song, or noise, or smell or feel is so powerful?
I don’t know, but  Trisha Yearwood did in  “The song remembers when,” and everyone who listens to that song can place themselves in a similar situation where during one second everything was perfect, and suddenly without notice, everything changed.
Image Credit: pinterest.com

What Used to Be

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I climbed this mountain today, remembering a time that seems so long ago.
The sheets wrap around me like linen on a body laid in state in front of the masses quietly mourning the loss of a soul once brought to life because of you.
My room is a tomb, cold, without life or light, sitting alone. No perfumes adorn my neck, no iron has worked through my hair.  I lay here in jammies made only for warmth, remembering a time when I laid here next to you.
The tulle skirt lies crumpled on the floor a heap on top of the lacy top. My shoes were picked specifically for the twirling and dancing we used to do.  The roses you bought, still in their vase now wilting, petals falling one by one as if forgetting they used to be part of something beautiful, lovely. With each loss the once whole flower now becomes a broken husk that someone remembers once had beauty.
The tears begin anew like the rain pelting coldly outside.  I don’t know if I’ll make it today, so I close my eyes and descend the hill back into my bed, maybe tomorrow I’ll crest this sorrow and escape this sadness.
Image Credit: www.luciadress.top

Heels are Glorious

I was traipsing around various stores, loving all the things. Tops, rompers,  jumpsuits,  sun dresses.
I love that the sun excites me about stepping outside in that cute lacy tunic, hair not frizzy, makeup actually works and feeling like people around me see me as I feel.
The feeling comes so seldom, I have to write about it as soon as my mind agrees with my mirror!
I’ve often wondered what it was that magically transforms my feelings about me.
It’s the shoes. Actually, it’s the heels!
They’re sometimes impractical,  slightly not comfortable and mostly not for non gymnasts like me, but I love how they look on my feet. I even love walking into my closet and just staring at them imagining how they will look with my outfits that week!
I love that the right pair of shoes transforms my outfit from chic to lustrous. The perfect accessory is the right shoes. The little straps, chunky heel, cute toes, they all make it pop.
When it pops right I feel amazing.
Is it okay to admit this? I feel that society sometimes pressures me (us) not to be beautiful, to fit in and not to pop. I love shoes, I do, and I guess I’m not going along with the pressure. Beauty is a thing and I love to feel beautiful.

Am I Enough for You

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Am I enough for you?
Do you see me sitting here waiting to be loved by you?
Do you know the power you hold over me? How vulnerable I am? I put on a good show. I make you work for me, I don’t let you run me over. I know you care. But do you really know what I’m capable of doing,  blossoming into when you care for me likeI need you too.
Do I trust that you will?
Do I trust you?
I’ve lived this life being told so many things, I can conquer, I can do, now I sit on this bed, holding these flowers and all I want is to be enveloped by you. I desperately want to give in to these feelings and know my heart will be held closely by you. Can you? Will you?
I wish I knew for sure, but my heart has been handed to you to take, and I’m not sure I have the strength to take it back and run away.
I love you so, do you love me so too?
Image Credit: www.brit.co/getting-ready-wedding-shots

The Pink and the Flowers

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I wake in the morning and feel lost without my lace.
Silk wakes my soul like a flower blooming after a spring rain.
Satin around my skin envelops like the steam rising from a warm coffee on a cold morning.
This dress wraps me like a rich foliage basking by a churning brook, each movement intertwines my whole self in beautiful color.
I feel awake, removed from the slumber that confined my personality before bathing myself in this delicate pleasure.
Image Credit: weddinginspirasi.com

Behind the Curtain

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I’ve spent my short life getting to this point.  I stand here behind the curtain.  The silken sparkly trap hiding me from the masses.
My body is toned and healthied to within an inch of starvation. I’m emotionally voided. My smile is plastered as naturally as the sun shines on the masses.  Perfectly manicured nails jut out from flawless fingers to slide my hand slightly from side to side. My legs stand smoother than the bottom of any baby. Exfoliated, professionally managed every day.  My bikini shows flawless smooth hairless almost pubescent, it is pearlescent.  My auburn mane is staggeringly beautiful each curl pulled every evening, hairnet slept regardless the day, incredible body like oiled springs bobbing with my every movement.  The dress I have on today costs more than the salaries of the people sitting in the first two rows. The beaded silk bodice flows with my body almost as if it was grown for me. The skirt, set above the knees holds slightly billowed with light crinoline tapering from my waist.  My breasts heave with my breath, shorter as I wait, they now hold themselves plump and alert after this years’ surgery.
I am the embodiment of perfection. I exult beauty. I am what they all want to see, to touch, to imagine. I’m the reason for the affairs, anger, and sadness in their lives. They all want to be what they see in me.
I am the exact representation of female perfection.
The stage was clear, the audience waited in anticipation for the next show. They had paid dearly for their tickets. The demand had been so great that the show sold out before most even had a chance to order.  There was no band playing, soft, excited mutterings were the only noises in the vast theater holding many thousands of spectators.  The show would start on time promptly at 21:00 hours.  At exactly 20:58:23 seconds the curtain started to spread open. It moved slowly both because it was part of the show and to keep the expectations high. The silent motors whirred against the wind as the silk curtains slid across the marble floor of the stage. At 20:59:32 the audience slowly started to gasp as they were able to get a look at the very specimen they were here to see.  There was only silence at 21:00 when the AD009.4 strode forward from its holding position.  Though, to all in the audience they knew the machine only as Eve.

Why Do We All Want to Be Beautiful?

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The trouble with beauty, we all want it, desire it, it envelops us like a breeze splashing our hair around us.
The need never goes away, the desire never fades.
To feel beautiful is the true beauty, just me as I am. When we achieve that belief then no matter what we do or wear, everyone else desires the beauty we’ve so easily and effortlessly found for ourselves.
How do you achieve your inner beauty?
Image Credit: vi-vi.com

Everything Will be Different After Today

Dirty diapers changed, potty training, dressing, school, all the lunches made, all the talks about friends, teachers, boys, drama, drama.
The crying, the yelling, the laundry!
I’ve dressed her, picked her up and cleaned her booboos.  I taught her how and when to shave her legs,
put on her first bra, I taught her about what her period. I was there when she had her first boyfriend. I cried with her when he broke her heart. I cried and hugged when she was happy, I laughed and cried and hugged her when she was sad. She’s been the first child I see in the morning and the last one I see at night.  She’s my first born, my eldest baby. She’s my daughter and I’m her momma.
But tonight I’m letting her go.  Tonight I’m relegated from mom, to mother of the bride, a title I now mostly share with a different woman across the room.  I bought her this lace, each fitting, and refitting, the veil, her beautiful hair.  I bought it all for her today so I could say goodbye and give her away.
“Momma, can you help button me up?” she asks?  I button each tiny loop as it works toward her beautiful hair. The bodice fits her body as if it was born for her this day.  The skirt billows from her waste tapering her as it cascades on the floor.
My baby is off to see her love today. She’s almost ready, my sweet honey.  “I love you” I say, and we both stare at each other realizing that everything will be different after today.