WHEN REALITY SETS IN.

In young age, Women will say;

“I want a tall, handsome man.

One who will do anything to please me.

One who will be the envy of my friends and foes?

I want a big fancy wedding.

One with fairies on the ceiling…

One with everything white,

Down to the roses and the lilies,

No orchids. No poppies, no red roses.

Except those in the bouquet that I hold in my hands.

I want a big family with as many kids as I can have…

Maybe a family dog if none of us is allergic!”

But after a couple of crushes that never look your way,

A couple of the ones who get away,

A couple of forbidden ones…

It could be due to tribe, social status, whatever, maybe even sex…

You grow to realize that it’s not just a bouquet you hold in your hands,

Nor is it a bed of roses.

The demands change,

The dreams change,

Reality sets in.

“I want a man that fears God,

A man after the heart of God.

I want a man, who loves me as I am,

I want a man, who has potential,

I want a hard working man,

A man who is presentable,

I want a man who is willing to settle the bills even when he can’t.

I want a man whose baby I will carry.

I want a man whose last name I will bear.

A man who will not play soccer with my heart,

Who will marry me in a respectable fashion, no matter how big or small?
Not one who will run from responsibility after sowing his wild oats within me.

I want to have my children under my husband’s roof.

I want only a few kids so we can provide them with the very best.”

If you’re reading this, you’re somewhere in between.

Is there any other reason apart from the aforementioned?

Why peoples’ goals change?

I honestly do not think there is another.

Delusional or Paranoid?

I Wish you were proud of me.

Am I reading the signs wrong?

Am I hearing the words wrong?

You wanted me to be yours.

I didn’t want to belong to anyone!

I just wanted to be alone,

Didn’t care much for companionship.

Ah! Cupid you dirty miscreant!

Shot me right through my left shoulder,

Through my heart.

His arrowhead sticks out through my ribs.

I’m love struck!

You say you feel a higher degree for me,

I don’t even see how that can be. :s

Yet it’s difficult for you to tell the world about us.

You want,

I give.

 A mistake I make. Not once,

Not twice,

Not thrice,

Not four times (what’s the correct word?)

Yet I believe love can do me well.

I believe Cupid got his target right.

You are not my mistake.

I’m proud of you; I want to show you off!

But you are not proud of me,

And it hurts.

It stings because I don’t know how to tell you.

Bites because I can’t imagine why you’re acting shady.

Burns because you speak such beautiful words,

You make me feel I am the only one you see,

The only one you know.

Well, am i?

The only one I mean. Or am I just delusional?

I do not want to be alone,

I want to be with you.

Do I draw on my face of indifference?

And risk actually becoming indifferent… eventually?

Is this it?

 Is this what you want?

Am I your mistake?

To say I am pained is an understatement.

It hurts to my very marrow.