Archives for posts with tag: Love

Facebook is interesting. It truly reconnects you to your past and makes you reflect; a platform to remind you of many things including your first heartbreak. The one that was gut-wrenching and devastating and completely changed who you were as a person. The one that made you think you would be alone forever because you didn’t believe in love anymore. And somehow 10 years go by and you look back and realize the person you were once closest to is someone you don’t even know anymore and probably wouldn’t even recognize on the street and you consider yourself ridiculously lucky that the life you are seeing while snooping around on that Facebook page isn’t the life you are leading today. It makes you feel good about the desperation you showed when you tried to force it to work yet they didn’t want you anymore and it makes you appreciate the fact that it took a really long time to recover from the rejection of it all. Never in a million years did I think I would be happy for the fucker or tremendously grateful for the pain he caused or the wisdom I gained from the experience. In other words, life really does go on. You do get over it and love, incredibly, mind-blowing, can’t be without each other, I love you forever, soulmate love, does come around again. Which makes you appreciate the shit even more.

Having the opportunity to come down to the beach and sit in the same place I sat with him and just write brings me a great deal of peace. Of course I can’t help but to think of him while I am here. I believe subconsciously I come here simply because it is a place that makes me feel the closest to him when missing him the most.

And there’s something so cleansing about the beach. It’s a good place to be. It makes people happy. It soothes the soul and calms the mind. But I need let go of him and I need to release myself. Set myself free. I need to just get up off of this sand, dust myself off and walk away. Walk toward a new direction.

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Today the most interesting thing happened. I found a ladybug in my room. I heard a noise which I thought was a bee as this has happened more than once where a bee has flown into my room from leaving a window open and it’s a pain in the ass. (And now that I think about it I can’t help but wonder what it means. When I was in France the same thing happened, but this bee committed suicide by flying directly into the light fixture and getting itself trapped, buzzing around like crazy until it eventually died. It was weird and awful.) But it was a ladybug! I was so touched by this because I have no idea how she got in. The noise I was hearing was this ladybug flying around. So I gently helped her back outside which I found wasn’t hard to do. It’s cool how ladybugs are friendly. After this happened I started thinking about the symbolism. What brought this ladybug to me? So I did a search and found this awesome post on whats-your-sign.com which I loved because it’s about love and so I had to share.

Avia’s Response to
“Ladybug Love Symbolism”

Hello Mike,

Firstly, I want to recognize (and commend) your level of sensitivity. It takes a special soul to pick up on the subtle cues and messages of Nature, especially from the tiniest insect realms.

There is an ancient Chinese legend that links the ladybug with love. The story goes that when a ladybug comes to call, it is a sign that true love will also pay us a visit. Further renditions of the legend state the number of spots on the ladybug indicate the amount of months that will pass until we are united with our true love.

I love myth and legends, but I don’t subscribe to hanging all of our hopes on them.

Rather, I look within (the soul, heart, mind, etc) and see how my inner impulses relate to the symbolic phenomenon occurring in my life (such as a visitation from a ladybug).

I also love the presence of color in nature, and often link chakra meanings (chakras are energy centers in the body and presented to us by ancient Hindu wisdom) to colors that come to me in visitations.

For example, the ladybug (to me) is a symbol of passion, ardor, adoration, amorousness because of its color, red. According to chakra wisdom, red is associated with the Muladhara charka (the root chakra) which deals with passion, desire, primal urge and even sex. There are other subtle layers to this chakra and its color, but it always triggers the feeling of a passionate fire kindling within me.

Hence, when a ladybug comes to call, I always sense its a message of connecting with my passion, connecting with a love that ignites my whole being. Very auspicious, and a very positive connection.

Does this mean the ladybug is a symbol of you united with your friend in a love relationship?

Rather than go there, I want to say the ladybug in your case is absolutely a message of love. I also want to say that love comes in countless forms. Your ladybug could be a reminder to you to keep your heart open, and remain in a loving state in order to connect with your true love (whether that be your friend, some other lucky person equally suited for you at this time, or even a love for work, hobby or reconnecting with family).

The details of your ladybug message will be left up to you to work out. But I can confirm the ladybug as an auspicious (positive) messenger of love.

Furthermore, I’m convinced the ladybug would not have come to you if you were not emitting an energy of love to begin with (they sense our energy levels, and are attracted to that “red” kind of vibe).

So…keep your heart in a loving state, and in response to that state, know that love shall always fly to you and land within your heart.

Hope this helps you Mike.

Brightly,
Avia

You’re only so lucky if someone enters you life and totally raises the bar; a person who shows you what you’re truly worth and makes you question what in the hell you were doing wasting your time before.

To explain this to someone, I made up a shopping analogy…

It’s like when you start becoming interested in luxury goods. Like the moment you buy your first Louis Vuitton. And after having a bag crafted so artfully and so beautifully, there’s no way you can ever go back to bullshit.

Sure, you might find yourself wandering into T.J. Maxx. You might even try a few things on because you have time to kill and the store just happened to be across the parking lot. But the truth is, there is nothing but cheap synthetics and mismatched sizes, which makes you stop and ask yourself, what the hell am I doing in here? So you turn around, walk out the door and never look back.

Louis Vuitton was just a sample taste on your mission to Tom Ford. It’s LV and beyond from here on out. You just can’t help yourself. Being given a luxury good, especially one so “top notch” makes you settle for nothing less than the best.

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When I returned from France I couldn’t help but ask someone I met when I was 22, who still knows me pretty well, what I was like when I was 22. I was surprised and touched by the thoughtful, spot-on response; when I read it, I laughed and cried at the same time because as it turns out, this guy knew me better than I thought he had and well, not much has changed. I am still totally this version of myself; older and none the wiser.

Everyone should have that special person in their life that they’ve known forever; the one you’ve experienced a lot of firsts with, who has broken your heart a little, yet put up with you, stuck around through it all and doesn’t mind when you send them random messages asking to explain who the hell you were at a time you didn’t know who the hell you were. Thanks, MT!

“What were you like at 22, shit have we known each other that long? Fuck, I don’t know if I remember all that well. You were a bit of drama, not too much with me though. You were always pretty down to hang out and have fun, and just go with the flow from what I can remember. You liked to party, liked your friends, always were working hard, and doing something with school and work, and shit. But you were very directionless, kind of lost. You didn’t know where to go, and you didn’t have the balls to go there once you figured out where you did want to go. You were emotional, scared, and needy at times. You weren’t any different than anyone else in that regard though, not at 22. Thats for sure. What else? You were always searching, looking, for what I am not sure, but you were. You were a deep thinker, a believer in the world, in people, in possibilities. You were still healing from the ex-boyfriend. You had trouble reconciling your relationships with your family. All that is pretty much what I remember. Also, always had a good heart, did more for others, and got burnt a bit too much by others for doing so. Always drama with the girlfriends, I do remember that. Haha! Does my recap of you at 22 sound pretty accurate?”

“Can love even in times uncertain be the thing that carries us through.”

Funny how right when you are thinking about a person you hear from them. It’s the best. I didn’t sleep well last night and started my day with a lot on my mind. Walking to class this morning I was thinking about when I am going back to France, where exactly to travel to and how to make sure I see who I want to see. Then I check my email and had the best message ever with this picture waiting for me, which was truly unexpected and made me smile big. It was just what I needed…

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I signed up for a French class this semester. At first I had trepidation, as the class is held four mornings a week. From a teaching standpoint, it makes sense. From a commitment standpoint, it freaks me out. The commute, the mornings, my freedom, blah, blah, blah… But, I went for it. The first class was today and as soon as I sat down and heard the professor speaking en Fran├žais, “Je m’appelle Audrey. Je suis de Paris.” I got choked up. I miss France so much and sitting in the class today was the reinforcement needed regarding my decision to commit – it felt familiar and felt like home. As my good friend Lise said, “I m really proud of you yes … I hope you’ll enjoy it! You need to speak French to work in Paris. ;)”

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I opened the can of worms by sending him a text before I left for France, of course not getting a response. France definitely cured me of any residual heartbreak and/or hurt feelings. Travel really does cleanse the soul.

Now I am back and it has been tough readjusting. But for the most part, life has been great. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I am happy. I am at peace with myself. I even like who I am.

So the universe decides to challenge this. I wake up to his text; his three month old response. I felt nothing. Not excitement. Not happiness. Not sadness. Nothing.

But I’ve spent a lot of today trying to decide what I am going to do. Of course I am happy to hear from him. There’s a sick pleasure a woman can sometimes receive when she is given attention and told she is missed. Especially when it is from someone who meant something to her.

Here are my options:

- Ignore the text

- Send a witty and cute response, pretending nothing happened.

- Tell him to go fuck himself

It’s always cyclical. I can easily fall back into his trap. And that would only set me back, which scares me the most. I am also experiencing a certain amount of anxiety and I haven’t felt this way in a while.

But when I think about what it is that I want, hell yeah I want to see where this goes! The answer is that I have to just be honest with myself.

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