Another old blog from MySpace. Written for a bosom friend, but hopefully it will speak to someone out there who needs to hear it now...
Recently, someone near and dear to me had a douchbag break up with her, telling her that he was in his "selfish period" and maybe in a few years, he'd be in his "relationship period'.
Like this guy's Picasso or something with all of these "periods" of life.
I digress
Years ago ago I attended a benefit dinner for Gilda's Club of West Michigan. They had cancer survivors and family members present talking about how Gilda's Club provided them with a safe haven during their battles with cancer. I will never forget one speaker in particular. She was probably in her 60's. She had beaten cancer--in her second remission. She was a frequent visitor to the Gilda's Club along with her husband Art. Art sat onstage beside his wife, wearing a red button up shirt, in a proud display of Gilda's signature color. In a soft but cracking voice he explained how the classes he attended at the Club helped him be a better husband to his wife. While he might never know what it was like to battle cancer, he did everything in his power to be by her side and give her the kind of support and love that helped get her through. He sat up onstage beaming looking at his wife.
So listen up all my single friends out there...
Never settle for less than Art. He exists. She exists in female form. Art's are all over the place, but most of the time we're too proud to give them our attention. We're too oblivious to their shy smiles and their soft but cracking voices. Like moths attracted to an out of control forest fire, we suffer for love, we fly into the fire because love is supposed to hurt right? It's supposed to be some crazy roller coaster right? Surely love can't be this old man sitting up on that stage in his best red shirt. And why do we dismiss the Arts of the world? Because it just seems too easy. Love that comes that easy just doesn't make sense to our jaded hearts.com. We have to work and sweat and toil for love right? How wrong we are to think that. How wrong I was to think that for so long.
Do you really want to create children with someone who could ever utter the words, "I'm in a selfish period right now". I sure fucking don't.
Do yourselves and your future offspring a favor. The next time you want to pick up the phone and call that ex-asshole whoever he/she is--think about your future children or your future spouse or your future lovers (the good ones) or your future goldfish and don't pick up the phone. Vow to them that you won't waste a second more in your pursuit to find out who they are by wasting time on the past.
And always remember Art. Don't be too quick to think that love = work. Love = maintenance and care to be sure, but it's not work for me. Coming home to my husbandand having him kiss the top of my head and ask how my day was isn't work. Will I feel this way when I'm 60? I sure hope so. I found my "Art". Reformed drama queens of the world unite!
Like this guy's Picasso or something with all of these "periods" of life.
I digress
Years ago ago I attended a benefit dinner for Gilda's Club of West Michigan. They had cancer survivors and family members present talking about how Gilda's Club provided them with a safe haven during their battles with cancer. I will never forget one speaker in particular. She was probably in her 60's. She had beaten cancer--in her second remission. She was a frequent visitor to the Gilda's Club along with her husband Art. Art sat onstage beside his wife, wearing a red button up shirt, in a proud display of Gilda's signature color. In a soft but cracking voice he explained how the classes he attended at the Club helped him be a better husband to his wife. While he might never know what it was like to battle cancer, he did everything in his power to be by her side and give her the kind of support and love that helped get her through. He sat up onstage beaming looking at his wife.
So listen up all my single friends out there...
Never settle for less than Art. He exists. She exists in female form. Art's are all over the place, but most of the time we're too proud to give them our attention. We're too oblivious to their shy smiles and their soft but cracking voices. Like moths attracted to an out of control forest fire, we suffer for love, we fly into the fire because love is supposed to hurt right? It's supposed to be some crazy roller coaster right? Surely love can't be this old man sitting up on that stage in his best red shirt. And why do we dismiss the Arts of the world? Because it just seems too easy. Love that comes that easy just doesn't make sense to our jaded hearts.com. We have to work and sweat and toil for love right? How wrong we are to think that. How wrong I was to think that for so long.
Do you really want to create children with someone who could ever utter the words, "I'm in a selfish period right now". I sure fucking don't.
Do yourselves and your future offspring a favor. The next time you want to pick up the phone and call that ex-asshole whoever he/she is--think about your future children or your future spouse or your future lovers (the good ones) or your future goldfish and don't pick up the phone. Vow to them that you won't waste a second more in your pursuit to find out who they are by wasting time on the past.
And always remember Art. Don't be too quick to think that love = work. Love = maintenance and care to be sure, but it's not work for me. Coming home to my husbandand having him kiss the top of my head and ask how my day was isn't work. Will I feel this way when I'm 60? I sure hope so. I found my "Art". Reformed drama queens of the world unite!
Cheers and best wishes as you find yours!
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