A Love Collaboration

If you were in real estate, you'd have me sold
How many times have I told you this is getting old?
If it weren't for your past relationship you would trust me
That's the truth you claim and I trust it must be

We sold each other dreams and a life novelists could write about
But the storm clouds on the horizon made us question what we really cared about
I love you and you love me but the word LOVE is over played and under funded
Cuz when we said we were everything we ever wanted...well I guess we weren't keeping it 100
 
Plus I always thought that the 2 of us equaled 1
But the negative was relentless and wouldn't let us overcome
Unfortunately our problems weren't ever algebraic
They were real and compounded like and archaic cut mosaic

We thought we could build a life together but we didn't have a blueprint
Yes this is the Wild West but we didn't have true grit
We've both heard rumors girl but that's why they're called "rumors"-they're not true
And I don't expect you to believe them about me so why did I believe them about you?
I guess my closest friends were our biggest downfall
Cuz when push came to shove...
love wasn't enough

Now I'm left with my heart half broken and my mind fully aware
That if those words were never spoken, then life would still feel fair
I don't have you which means I have nothing
No more us, no more trust, no more diamond ring
My heart was never on my sleeve, I just gave it to you
To hold, to shape, to do to it whatever you wanted to
And you crushed it's life and dimmed it's beats
So it aches for you in a dying defeat

Love,

& MARTIN LEWIS

Amazing Grace

You have a story. Your scars: you have those unseen, and others marking memories that rise in a crooked road off your flesh. You have lost unexpectedly. You have gained when you thought  you were bankrupt in life fortune. 

My story has already been written, and yours may be too, but it's up to you to read it along the way. I'm no longer a slave of crafting intricate sentences full of embellished syntax to impress my readers. My author has always loved me, even before I was born and has omniscient eyes that see my heart for what it is. My story, I realize now, will not be signed by me. It will be published when I, for the first time, shake the hand that carefully dotted each i and crossed all my t's for me. In heaven.

What's your story?

Active Vs. Passive Guide to Dating

Is there a difference between active and passive dating? I ponder to myself as I actively stroll down a Reno neighborhood all too familiar to me. After 24 years (probably 10 of which were actually functional) of seemingly unsuccessful dating adventures, I now am stuck in the present with a reflection of past failed love stories. The Unhappily Ever After I know all too well, despite what Cinderella promised me with her undependable glass slipper. I know if my foot gear were the iconic depiction of a relationship story, their composition would most likely be of twigs and rocks, threatening to crumble under a mere whisper. With no support, no purpose, and a complete lack of genuine stability.

Now literally I'm brought back to the present moment, as I walk down the streets of No-town and look to my feet to ensure I don't find a nest of muddy tree branches for shoes. (*1) After squaring away that questionable doubt, I look to answer my own question. Is there a difference of actively dating versus passively dating? And I've concluded quite simply, yes.

Instead of sulking back in a dunce chair carefully constructed for yourself by yourself and wait for potential mates to pick you, shouldn't women, and more specifically me, take some initiative in the dating world? Instead of hoping to be the first picked teammate, I settled for silently watching those women around me get chosen. I've realized in my dating life I've been the girl who sits, waits, and looks at the watch on her hand in anticipation of those two hands to point to the future. But what I've realized is, it's MY bare hands that have the power to create my destiny. I've always thought, if I stopped searching, love would find me. I wonder what idiotic coined phrase I captured that from? Probably another Disney movie. And surprisingly enough I've come to terms I'm not Cinderella, I'm Bethany.

So as the New Year has fallen upon me, I have a renewed dedication to resist "falling" into a relationship with someone, and rather jump into it willingly after a selection process has been implemented and executed. No more sideline anxiety. No more appeasing as an appetizer before a man's salacious main course. No, I will be the main dish. I will be the one doing the picking. And if you sir are the last man standing, just remember, the nice guy doesn't always finish last. Maybe it's time for you too to start running the bases until you hit that home run. You can't swing your bat sitting in the cage; and if you're the jackass that would like to test the technicality of that statement, you'll likely end up hurting someone with misguided aim like yours. Get up. Get out. Start dating actively.


Sinceriously,


Baby B Fresh


*1-Relief. "I've got my Vans on but they look like sneakers," I think to myself. My mind trails off momentarily as I incorrectly recite some Pack lyrics and find myself lusting after Lil B. Please excuse my neurotransmitters as they tend to be of ADD descent most days.