How hard is it to be loved? Or really, the question: how hard is it to feel loved? Life just passes faster and faster and it seems we get stuck in the smallest moments wondering how did I wind up here?

I remember the days of finishing up a good book at Barnes and Nobles and ending the day with a drink on the back of Scott's porch. We'd talk, generally about nothing, but we'd talk. And then we'd maybe watch some t.v. and wind up falling asleep. I remember loving that part, having someone to talk to and fall asleep with. I remember loving when I made someone laugh, but I also remember wondering why I wasn't good enough for him.

I remember being with Garret and having so many differences in what we believed, but yet being identical in how we lived our lives and how we thought. I remember how hard we laughed, but knowing it wouldn't last.

I remember Andrew. Ah. Those days. The days of never questioning who you are and where you're going, of loving and living every moment! Faster, harder, the laughs, the late night talks under the stars, the drives to no where just to be with each other. And the fight that came the day I found out I wasn't good enough.


But those days are long gone and Lot's wife was a great example of never looking back. I no longer invest all of who I am into a relationship, and I have yet to decide if it's hurt the relationship or if it's saved me from feeling even more pain. What happens when a woman wants to be loved, to be touched, to be cherished, to be laughed with, and all of that is secondary to a man's wants? Shouldn't it be a joint response that comes before the mess that is our lives? I think the clues lie in the undone dishes or the messy bedroom floor. I miss the days of drinking coffee or a wine cooler with a good friend and just laughing about the day or talking politics. I miss the day I was naive and had high hopes for who my soul mate would be.

I'm not strong enough to be one of those women that waits around for her man to give up, turn the tv/computer off and spend some time having a real conversation with her. I don't have the time in my life to wait around hoping all the promises that were made are going to come true. Wondering when something I'm going to say or not say is going to cause a fight, dreading the next time we 'make love'. How can you make love to someone you don't show is worth the time to actually love? I've made my requests repeatedly, I've fought trying to defend myself too many times. I don't feel wanted and I'm tired of looking in his eyes and seeing this man that used to laugh when I said something witty, that used to look at me as though he never wanted to take his eyes off me. I miss the man that used to put me before everything else in his life, even if it was just for a week. I miss feeling like a part of some great adventure. I want the man that cares when I'm crying because it means I'm really hurting.

I think in the end it's easy to figure women out and men are just too lazy and stubborn to admit that all we want is action behind words. Not pretty words to shut us up, not flowers when you feel guilty. We want you to say you're going to do something and do it.

Tell me you've seen the light, that you're tired of putting off the promises you made. That my pain means something to you, and your life isn't just about you any more. And you're going to hold me.

I recently was proposed to, and for a second time in my life it was done at a very casual moment as though it wasn't important or was just a normal proceeding of the day. At first, I blew off the idea of being disappointed because I thought I was being greedy or controlling. But it's continued to bother me.

First, I asked; no, begged-him to actually PROPOSE to me and be creative. Why? Because the first time for me was just an "Oh, will you marry me?" and I wasn't even given the opportunity to be treated special, spoken to as though I was special, or shown how much thought someone could put into proposing to me. Besides, no one likes to be proposed to when they really need a shower and are nasty. Also, he proposed to his first wife after or during a roll in the hay. Really.

So twice now, his extent of thought behind showing the women he wants to marry HOW MUCH involves a quick hey wouldya. It almost seems extremely insincere. No, it does seem insincere. It seems as though it was expected of him, and it was expected of me to say yes. So I had to say yes while dressed in sweats, wanting a shower, and being seriously disappointed he didn't listen to a single word I said in pleading to please give me a little more consideration than he gave his ex or my ex gave me.

Now, there is no selfishness behind this thought. I really just did not want to yet again not have a story to tell. How did he propose? He got up from the computer and knelt down in front of me as I walked toward the bathroom to pee. How did the last one propose? While I was waiting for him to leave so I could shower.

I can imagine many women have sweet stories, where men tell them all about how they can't live without them, what great _____ they have or some special asset about them. I got nada. Zilch. Just a ring and a pissed off face when I didn't respond right away, both times. I don't want the man to cry, and I guess I really don't want to cry. But I would like to feel as though this was special for BOTH of us, and have someone take the time to make it special---which would show it was special for them, or they wouldn't take the time.

I hear all these amazing stories about how my friends were proposed to, even just being taken back to the first place they went on a date (a pizza joint) is putting thought into it. No, a proposal doesn't have to be exuberant, no the ring really isn't everything, and really a woman doesn't feel entirely special about a proposal when the only effort made was to grab a ring and say wouldya.

I guess I just have all these fantasies about how things should be with this guy, I mean he flew all the way to Montana to meet me. I really just expected to have a real proposal. I guess it's not just that I feel robbed, but that yet again he didn't hear the words coming from my mouth. Almost as though his way is the only way and I better get used to it... eeeeevery time. Every. Time. He heard me say please don't, even got mad when he thought that's what I was thinking. But it's still HIS way and my heart can't be listened to. (Won't be?)

It really wouldn't be such a let down if there hadn't been a few conversations about it, or even a couple of similar proposals in the past. I really thought we were different. I've been told he loves me more than he ever loved her, but I got the same proposal? I expected more from him and he knew it, but he still did it. Ugh. It's really messing with my head.

I look at this ring and I think, aww how pretty and yet, whats wrong with this picture? I guess I just am getting tired of telling him what I want and need and having him blow me off. And this was really important to me. Makes me wonder whats going to be blown off next.