I can, and have. I am at a very free stage in my life. I have been deeply in love and I have had my heart broken. I have spent the last year guarded, practicing my yoga, and in reflection. I have done my fair share of playing, but when pursued, a small voice keeps pushing back, and telling me to wait for that spark.
You said that our first four days felt like fourteen years – that you felt like you had known me forever. I share that feeling.
I sense that I have something, perhaps many things to learn from you. And in turn, about me.
I am, of course, still getting to know you. I believe in the law of attraction. Something deeply draws me to you. I like that you are traveled, articulate, care about your health, and are spiritual. We share a passion for music of all kinds. You are talented and passionate about what you do. Family is a priority. You have an adventurous spirit like me, and yet you are peaceful and can be comfortably present and quiet. I like that very much.
My hand fits in yours perfectly, and in your arms feels like home in the sense that I don’t have to think much at all.
~ Just L (from a simpler time, published November 25, 2018)
“The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves.” -William Penn
Why would “___” (who has a multitude of fake social media profiles), a presumably educated and intelligent adult woman, who has never met me and knows nothing of substance of my life and loves, but has continually stalked me over the past two years post this kind of crap?
She also obsesses on my poetry site every week, presuming my every word has something to do with her life, which she then uses to cause others in her life tremendous pain and suffering.
How sad. Doesn’t she know this only causes others to feel embarrassed for her, and now me.
I feel a strange mix of compassion and pity for her.
Especially, when she tries to insult me with words like “OLD” or “DESPERATE” or implies that if my life was all that wonderful, I wouldn’t have to brag (write) about it…
OH HONEY! Just wait. 55 is far from old. I will forever be a young spirit. I am self-employed, I am free to travel, enjoy the finer things and savor the simple treasures. I have experience and wouldn’t trade that for the world.
And as for my life? It is simply MY life and I feel extraordinarily blessed that I have been able to create it in spite of challenges or hardships over the years. I am proud to be a woman who inspires others to reach higher and a mother my adult children admire. I have the deep pleasure of satisfaction of being a leader in my profession, in part because I have consciously cultivated deeply authentic, lasting relationships.
This Thanksgiving I will be hosting my family near and far, as well as my ex and his longtime love. We will celebrate our children, our successes, our resiliency, our shared stories, and laugh with truly grateful hearts.
I challenge you to do the same. Apparently, you have a lot of time on your hands and a lot of years in front of you. May time humble you.
~ Lori J Bumgardner instead of Just L, because there is nothing poetic about this (September 29, 2018)
Author’s Note: Images taken from public posts on facebook. Any publishing by a facebook user using the Public setting is a release under a free content license.
Please just stop stalking me. I guarantee you that I am not your problem. I broke it off with him earlier this month. He was never mine anyway.
I glance at my phone and feel a little thrill
“Hi sweetie!” I last saw him in April
Ah yes, I was getting my birthday tattoo
“It’d be great if we could get together”
“I look forward to seeing you, too.”
We meet at my favorite dinner spot
I’m playing it cool, yet feeling hot
We order a truly fine Baja wine
Share risotto and crème brûlée
Flirtatious innuendos pass the time.
“Does this bother you?”
I read the screen and laugh, “No.”
His hand is in my waist-length hair
Sitting in the seat in front of him
I know something’s in the air.
Sipping whisky with the dancers
They ask me questions, I answer
I turn, ‘Hey Handsome did I mention…”
He runs his hand up my thigh
Reminds me he’s paying attention.
Walking into the cool night air
A little tipsy, without a care
We slip into the backseat
He leans in to grab my face
Our mouths at last meet.
~Just L (September 29, 2018)
Author’s Note: You know how I love a good kissing poem, and a good kisser.