Why I Love Men

The men in my life were not many or few, good or bad, handsome or ugly. The men in my life cannot be grouped, ranked or classified. Each of them was amazing at his time and each of them made me the woman I am today.

 

Some of them dropped by for a while, some of them stayed for months or years. Some of them held me when the times were rough, some of them shared a bed and a life with me. Every single one of them touched my heart, one way or another.

 

I was playing with my dolls while you were on my mind. I used to leave the dolls aside, to think of you. To dream of you. My innocence was not over yet. I wanted to dream of kisses and touches but I had never felt them, so I didn’t know how to dream of them. So I used to start playing with my dolls again. The little girl was fighting the woman. It was a fair fight and the woman won. With you on my mind, I took off the ribbons from my hair and I began to grow up…

 

I was madly and stubbornly in love with you but I didn’t know how to tell you. I was breathing your words and I was telling you my secrets. The times spent with you were good times. Not long ago, you told me you used to love me too. But you didn’t know how to tell me either. You were breathing my words and telling me your secrets. The times spent with me were good. We still share secrets and the times we spend together are always good times. I don’t know if we still love each other. Maybe we still don’t know how to say it.

 

With you, I learned the true, innocent love. You loved me by looking into my eyes and holding my hand. We used to leave our dreams on random benches in random parks and when I broke up with you, you cried. Eventually, I forgave myself for hurting you, even if your eyes in tears are still hunting me. It was the first time I hurt a man. Then I got used to it…

 

When I saw you, you were playing the guitar. You wore long hair, weird clothes and you made my heart beat faster. Later on, you wrote me a love letter. You spent an entire night to translate it into the Morse alphabet and you put it on my desk, in my classroom. When I found it, you were there, ready to   translate it, since you knew that alphabet. The love words didn’t impress me much, so I threw away the letter. You never had the courage to tell me you were the sender so our love never started. It took you one decade to tell me about the letter. Too long…

 

With you, I became a woman. I didn’t love you. You were so handsome, though. Nowadays, you are still handsome and you play with all women. You tell me your bedroom stories and you share with me your fear that you will end up killed by a jealous husband or boyfriend. I like having complete access to the mind of a womanizer.

 

You saved me one million times. In your arms I fell each time I wanted to forget about other arms. And you always held me. When I wanted to leave, you let me. And you were there for me each time I wanted back. When reality gets hard, I live another story with you. You are my personal fairy tale.

 

With you I learned how it feels like to be half of a whole, to be someone’s soul mate. I was happy I had found you, I was happy to have you and forever seemed such a short time, if lived with you. You were my ecstasy and my agony. I loved you like I never knew I can love. The love I felt for you made me better. And then the pain exhausted me. Forgetness seemed to never come…Now, all I have from you, is the memory of a love story that could have been great. Most of the people must live one thousand lives until they get to have a love like ours. Even if you weren’t forever, your memory is.

 

You were a sunrise, a warm sea and a handsome boy. A morning summer like no other. Blue eyes, soft talk, long kisses. And one regret…

 

You came into my life into a sunny, frozen Sunday, on Markham Street. You showed me a little from that new world, that I was not yet decided if I want to conquer or not. You were the normality in that chaos that could have been a new start or just a winter adventure. The longest winter ever…You were snow, cold, Plato, Pink Floyd, lazy weekends, good movies, chocolate, laughing green eyes, browsing books at Indigo, hot coffee in comfortable chairs in friendly cafes, lots of jokes and life talk.

 

They are the men of my life. A life without men is like a spring without sunshine and tulips.They love us, they leave us, they ignore us or maybe they suffocate us with their love. Some are jealous, some don’t care about us, they give us strength or they exhaust us. None of them is perfect. But we are not complete without them. Looking for THE ONE is a bumpy ride but it worths every second because it is this bumpy ride that gets us ready for THE ONE. That is why I love men. They keep me thinking. They keep me going. They help me discover myself piece by piece, feeling by feeling.

 

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