at one ordinary day, i received a call from a guy that changed my entire destiny. "i am seeing another girl." that was the only thing i can remember he said. at that point of time, i wished i am some place else. there's nothing more i could say. all the questions i have in my head were all stuck in my throat.
at that day, all the memories i kept and cherished since i was eight, all vanished. i have decided to let go of him. years passed and we never contacted each other again. not until i once
DIKU
HI
WHEN I WAS IN 7TH STD I WAS MONITAR OF MY CLASS AND ON THAT DAY IN PREYER TIME ONE GIRL EYES WAS OPEN SO I TALK WITH HER WITH LOUDLY AND TOLD HER TO CLOSE HER EYES,HER NAME IS PRIYANKA. ON THAT DAY ON LUNCH BREAK SHE LOOK AT ME CONSOANTLY AND I ALSO ,AFTER THAT DAILY SHE CAME ON MY SOCIETY FOR SAW ME AND AT SAME TIME TWO GIRLS PRAPOSED ME SO I GET CONFUSED ANDSAY NO ANDALSO I LEAVE MY SCHOOL ANDTUTION ALSO TO
Coby broke up with me last night, after seven long months together he says thing just weren't working out. He told me he wants to be just friends, but it's been me and Coby for so long that I'm almost afraid of being my own person, but a ghost of whom I once was.
Its like has this beautiful butterfly never content with one person, but only happy flying around touching other peoples life's, and I guess I grasped him too tightly holding him inside of my open palm.
I wish this were a dream, but I
Like every little girl, I grew up listening to fairytales. Fairytales where this ordinary girl meets her Prince charming and they live happily ever after. I wonder if anyone ever realises wat a wrong story it is to teach young minds. I dont know how other women had taken these stories then but i m sure there are at least a few like me who somwhere related themselves to the fairytales.
Today, I am 24 gal living in a metropolitan city of India-Mumbai. Being a designer (i always dressed barbies as
It was a day like any other day was checking my email, I had only just purchased my laptop several weeks earlier, I was rather computer illiterate. I never liked the chat rooms, I thought they were just pick up joints. A friend sent me ICQ and it all started from there.
Pregnant and Homeless - a homeless story with happyend
One year ago, I broke up with the girl I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. We were together two years, and when we broke up, I was devastated. I didn't want to even look at another girl. Then about two months ago I met a girl named Lisa. She is the sweetest, most amazing girl I have ever met.
The storm has subsided.
Last night I dreamt sweet dreams of love, his warm, strong arms, his sweet promises in my ear.
"You are so precious to me."
"I will protect your heart."
"I am home with you."
"I will kiss your wrinkles when you are 80."
"I will love you always."
"You are my soul mate."
"I will never hurt you, baby."
"I love you...I love you...I love you..."
I woke up, still glowing from the warmth of his touch. My dream so real, I could feel his breath still on my neck, his words and caresses
Today I struggle with love.
My heart is burning with sheer rage. You are winning this battle today, but not the war. I am sick and once agan, need to vomit you from my mind. You worthless piece of shit.
I wish I had never met you.
Not a year and a half ago. Not eighteen years ago.
What did I ever do to you? What!? I did not deserve this, and you certainly did not deserve me. You shred me to pieces, chewed me up, and spit me out. You deserve the whore that exists only in your mind. The gaping
After church Sunday, I drove to the son's house. I am not sure what I was expecting, except that Sunday, I felt restless.
I confirmed through a public data source that he was in his mid 70's, and possibly living with one of his three daughters. My thoughts raced during my drive to his house. What would I tell him? That I hung out at his parent's grave during lunch? That I was fixated on these two dead people? That I was looking for answers? What made me think that his story would enlighten me?
After church Sunday, I drove to the son's house. I am not sure what I was expecting, except that Sunday, I felt restless.
I confirmed through a public data source that he was in his mid 70's, and possibly living with one of his three daughters. My thoughts raced during my drive to his house. What would I tell him? That I hung out at his parent's grave during lunch? That I was fixated on these two dead people? That I was looking for answers? What made me think that his story would enlighten me?
Today I visited Alma's & Demos' garden for lunch. Here lately, I prefer being left alone, declining lunch invitations from co-workers. My mother thinks I'm clinically depressed. I'm not, just sad. There is a difference. My therapist says I'm vulnerable, and that I have been severely traumatized emotionally and spiritually.
I have to agree with my shrink.
He has professionally advised me to have no romantic relationships for twelve months. I've been assigned a mission to discover myself, set
He grew on me.
I don't have many distinct memories of our first encounters. He was just another customer, though I rarely made money sitting at his table. He would buy me drinks, and we would talk. I mostly remember him making me laugh, and that conversation came easy. His voice was sincere and honest, with a hint of a boyish smile always on his lips. He had a sweet and gentle way that invited my trust.
After a few drinks with him, he often would urge me to leave and go make some money. Working
March 1990
Dear L_,
I hope this letter doesn't bore you. I'm afraid I don't have a gift for words such as you. First of all, don't panic, this is not a love letter. These are just a few thoughts that I had in my head, that I wanted to give some substance to. And besides, since you don't have a phone, I might need to get used to doing this more.
I found Saturday very pleasing, thanks to you and A_. Your son is as beautiful and enchanting as his mother. I have to admit, I didn't know what to
Letting go in pieces. Holding on in pieces.
A week ago I was in his bed.
A month ago, he was in mine.
Four months ago, I was crying in his arms.
Six months ago, I found out about her.
Eleven months ago, I was moving to another city to begin my new life with him.
Seventeen months ago, he told me he had never stopped loving me.
Eighteen months ago, we reunited in a hotel room.
Seventeen years ago we met. Had I known then the significance of our first encounter, I often wonder what I might have
He came into my life twice.
The first time was when I was a topless dancer at a strip joint. I was 21 years old, he was 29 and married. Not exactly the beginning of a breathless romance novel, but it's my real story.
He tells me years later he remembers that I was wearing a red dress and I had the finest ass in the club. I only remember him tipping me on stage & asking me to come to his table later. I did one table dance for him and he bought me a drink. He started tipping me regularly and
Seventeen years ago, I thought I missed my opportunity for true love. I met the man of my dreams and then I let him go. I wasn't ready.
He came back into my life like a warm breath into my soul. He brightened my days, made me smile, and gave me hope for true love. I had finally come home. Happily ever after was real after all. It all seemed too good to be true. And it was.
He took me to heaven and hell. Brought me to my knees, only to lift me up again and touch the sky. Then he let me go again.
We
Choosing for love is like finding a perfect man which is impossible.
Actually I have a friend who is searching for a man of her dreams who is totally not exist. She wants a guy like this and like that. She doesnt want him to be like that and like this. He must be like what she wanted him to be.
But the more she's searching to meet a guy which she dreamt the more she got confused and disappointed.But when we were in 1st year in college she met a guy ,he is almost perfect "i think". He is neat,
My Name is Moe am 27 years old, I live in United Arab Emirates, in Abu Dhabi, and 14 years ago when I was like 13 yearsMoe and Mirvat old, I was in love with a girl she used to live next door, every day I used to stay 9 hours just waiting for school to finish so I can go and wait her to come from school just to look at her sweet lovely eyes.
So when the school bus drop me home I just go running to the bathroom to take a shower, put on my perfume, and put on the best clothes I have every single
Ladies,
Here is my dilemna. I'm a Cancer female.. many years ago I had a brief relationship with a Capricorn Male. Over the years, when we see each other, we never speak.. but he always stares intently right in my eyes.
I used to kind of laugh it off.. but in the past year or so I've started to realize my attraction to him is HUGE. Besides that, what is with the staring.. we just STARE at each other! I'm too tongue tied to speak and say "Hello" like a normal person.
What's your opinion
A love story from New Zealand.
My name is Steve and I am from New Zealand.
You know my life became really hard at one period. Getting into a car accident I have become a disabled. I can walk and do a lot of things by myself, but that speedy life I led before was over. Thanks God I was working pretty hard before and have rather decent income from real estate.
So I was rich, disabled and lonely when I entered the world of net dating and read many articles about dating abroad and Russian brides.
Here
Well, I'm not sure if I am supposed to give my love story or not, I can't quite tell. 
I found this love story on the internet few days ago. Its great love story with happy end.
I never placed an ad but I did go out with a guy I met in a chat room. I went on one date and he brought his child along. He turned out to be not divorced yet with a small child who couldn't keep a job and didn't want to. He thought everyone should do as he says and fists seemed to be the way he spoke to people. I helped his soon to be ex-wife get custody so maybe in a way I helped. But what an ass!
I then went out with a guy I met in a chatroom for a college. He helps host people and show them
I had been divorced for about 5 years.
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