Remember me, babe, when you look up at the stars at night and wonder if I’m seeing the same ones. Remember me, babe, when you finally get to Rome,; how I promised to get you there and how, though you never knew it, it was where I was going to propose.
Losing whom you thought was your forever love is not just a breakup, and it’s not just a broken heart. It’s way beyond that.
I feel I’m surrounded by supportive, loving friends here and that I’m returning to a hostile or indifferent world. . . Looking back, I know how much I’ve experienced here in Virginia and I see the last four weeks as a very special time in my life.
Josh said she was even more beautiful than before. He walked her to the car where her husband was waiting but didn’t want to meet the guy. “I felt like a fool, mostly because of the letters I sent her trying to get back after we broke up,” Josh said.
When those thoughts creep up on me, I console myself with the old adage that maybe it’s ‘all for the best’, but deep down I don’t really believe that. Somehow I don’t think that a lifetime of wondering, “What if?” and asking if I missed a real chance at love and happiness is in anyone’s best interests.
Where would your favorite male star fall on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator?
Why aren’t idiots aware of their own stupidity? Or as Shakespeare put it, “The Foole doth thinke he is wise, but the wiseman knowes himselfe to be a Foole.”
“Women lie about their age; men lie about their income.”
We are pretty much in our rights to understand that love is probably just a near-pathological state of co-dependence on either end.
“The whole world can become the enemy when you lose what you love.”