The long distance kiss.


She blew him a kiss
It was shaped like her lips
He caught it with pride
For it had made quite a trip.
Over the cities
And the great sea.
A wondrous voyage
It had turned out to be.
So once it arrived
It was placed with great care
On the forehead belonging
To a most royal heir.
He smiled as he felt it
Rush through his veins.
This kiss that brought with it
The cure for his pains.
 

Copyright ©2007 Veronica Romm

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Posted in happiness, love, photo, poem, poetry, writing | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

I love Rihanna


Sometimes a song hits me hard. The vulnerability in Riri’s voice here is so powerful. On The Voice contestants did this song and I fell in love again.

Posted in blog, celebrities, dating | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Sometimes there’s no fairy tale : a true story


image

He was her first love, she was his. At 18 madly in love. This is an email exchange 20yrs later. After sending a poem in which she professed her love

This is the poem she sent

How confusing love can be never ceases to amaze her. It is almost always unfair, whether it is timing, or someone getting hurt or making really stupid mistakes that she can’t take back and must live with always.
This is certainly compounded when true love presents itself at a very unfair age. Who could possibly imagine that at 17, 18 the high school boyfriend, the first love is the love? A love so strong and true it haunts her, always there in her heart and that place where nothing else will ever reside.
She lives and loves, enjoys fulfilling relationships with different people from various backgrounds who teach her the lessons she was meant to learn. Those loves can not be diminished for they help define the true love that is lost. With each bond extinguished the emptiness of the loss of him multiplies, grows when it should dim.
What if then he is once again there, wherever there may be. So close in proximity his presence is a constant tug on that place in her heart once she glimpses his face again. He is angry, still very angry, and again very angry. He says that she changed him, made him callous, and made him fear. The idea stabs her heart and that place where he still exists as he was, an idea that has been lost.
What if he is still that same boy/man who wants to free himself from fear and open up the place he says she destroyed? When he looks at her and the eyes, the eyes that haven’t changed the eyes she fell in love with convey emotions that make that place in the heart tear a bit further, hemorrhage slowly yet the pain feels like stabbing. She sees in those eyes the only man she ever met who she would want to be the Daddy. She sees in those eyes, in utter disbelief the man she has never let go. The one she would tell her best girlfriends about late nights, tears streaming down their cheeks, for the friend always believe too.
What if there is no chance he will ever trust her, ever let him get to know her as she is now? Never letting her show him how he loved her, how he taught her to love and because his fear and anger lock away that place in his heart that only she had been given. Locked in a safe with the combination a faint memory. All he sees when she looks in his wondrous eyes is the one that caused pain she cannot ever understand. He only wants to turn his back on her, walk away; speed away for it is dangerous to not full throttle out of her midst.
What if he goes against all that he thought he knew and lets her in? What if he takes the supreme chance and lets a love he can’t deny still exists in him enter his life? What a chance he would be taking, he was once a gambling man but the odds? Hardly worth it? Or maybe the only risk worth taking?
What if he lets her in and she can put her guard down just long enough to show him how much love she has to offer him? What if they are as they should be perhaps, if things like that happen? Can they happen? Would he take that chance because he is like her and can’t deny that they are the most real he will ever be?
What if he never lets her in and wonders always if maybe she was who she claimed she was, the one that he loves just as she loves him? How will she stop the bleeding of her empty space in her heart? How will he live knowing that she bleeds for him? With steely resolve? With regret and resentment?
What if they live happily ever after?

This is his response to about letter:

The more you persist on discussing the subject of “us”, the more angry the feelings you evoke in me become. You have forced me to think about things I havent thought about in years, like how you made it a point to tell me how much bigger Toms cock was than mine and then having to hear that you cheated on me with him. Now trust me, I don’t like remembering all those times you made me feel so insecure and inadequate, despite the fact that I would always go above and beyond the call of duty for you, whether it be gifting you emeralds and diamonds or paying 4 your shrink with money I did not have. All the same, I took you back time and again, only to be made to feel like a fool. IT WAS YOU THAT WANTED TO SEE NEW PEOPLE. You shattered me to pieces (not just that one act alone, but the sum of them all made this the final act of intolerance). All my devotion and forgiveness was not enough for you. Nothing was ever good enough. You would bask in my devotion and undress men with your eyes in my presence and still I remained devoted. Always giving you the benefit of the doubt, when you and I and everyone you’ve ever dated knows full well that you cannot be trusted to be a loyal, faithful girlfriend. YOU CRIED FOR A YEAR??? WHAT ABOUT ME?? I’M THE ONE WHO GOT PLAYED LIKE A FOOL!!! You wanted to see what other men had to offer despite having me wrapped around your selfish little finger. You got it!

This brings me to my final point, and believe me this IS my final point, because I will not discuss the subject of “us” any further: The bond between a husband and wife is founded on love; the most powerful of all emotions. That does not mean that it is not fragile. In a jewish wedding when the couple is pronounced man and wife, they place a piece of nice china (usually a dinner plate) and they give it a good stomp to shatter it. It is never a glass plate because glass can be melted and the dish can be remade like new. Even better than new perhaps. A ceramic plate can never be remade. It could be glued back together, but can never ever be as it was……thus symbolizing the fact that a SINGLE act of intolerance can break such a bond in a way that can never ever be like the orriginal…..forever. In a sense, it can never be put back together. Ever.

There is no “us”. There is no you and me. There’s just you……………….and just me. I have offered you my sincere friendship and that, as usual, is not enough for you. I am happy in my relationship and I have no intention of leaving my girl. Please stop hurting yourself and move on, because its hurting me too.

This is her response to the painful email above.

I certainly appreciate the lesson in religion. Although as far as I know it is always a glass that is stomped on. I don’t understand why you want to continue to rip me apart with your words. I see that your only memory of me is that of someone who is quite evil and as you describe it certainly unworthy of any human being. I do not however, see myself quite that harshly, no matter what you say, insinuate or REMEMBER. You think that trying to tear me apart is going to make you feel better and I am sure you are finding that it won’t or isn’t. I have had this fantasy of you for so long, and I never gave up on the feelings we shared. You have no recollection of anything resembling a decent person when you think of me. How stupid I feel. Needing to hate me may be your way, YOU have been through THERAPY, HA!!!! YOU WERE SOOOOO PERFECT! PLease you tortured me all freshman year in college and then imply that you would have gotten back together with me. You must be kidding. I am not the depressed lost girl you knew back then. I am not a drug addict or even user any more. I have never been a SLUT (undressing men with my eyes) that is your insecurity, it is not me. I am a 33 year old woman who has idealized her first love. Put you on a pedestal, believed in FATE (total bullshit) and took a chance. Your words as venomous as they are are not based on anything you know of who I am. You are correct I am selfish, I love you still and that I guess is selfish I will accept that. But I have a very good sense of who I am, what I have to offer and the kind of woman I strive to be. Your hateful tirade will never take that from me, and I don’t know why you would try. Your rage is disproportionate to how you say you view this situation. You make statements that are so off and yet I guess I can’t blame you. You do what you need to, I told you I wont bother you, or your girl, I am not a child and have no malice nor have I ever intentionally hurt you. I am sorry you find me so disturbing. I am sorry that we cant get to know each other once again. I am not sorry for expressing my true feelings for you. I will never be sorry for for loving you. Not then and not all these years and even now when you hurl these awful accusations at me. I am not sorry about who I am. I actually like myself, an achievement I believe for any human being, hence I can’t respond with false rage and lash out at you. I know you love me Michael and every action you have taken in these past days confirms it. You want to deny it, it is your choice and I wish you well in your RELATIONSHIP which every time you mention it sounds empty and unfulfilling. You were never mediocre, not to me, but I guess I never knew you really. Deny all of this, try to forget I ever came around. It’s best to maintain the status quo I guess. I however would never chose to live with less than. I hope you find peace, remember it was all I ever wished for and I am a lot closer to it than I have ever been. So I am not sorry I came to you and confessed the most difficult feelings, intimate and FOOLISH. But they are mine and I take ownership.

wow that was cathartic.

Posted in Love loss, relationships, writing | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment