Tag Archives: love

Online

How did you meet your significant other?

It’s pretty amazing if you think about it.

My now husband and I probably crossed paths throughout our lives. But never actually met.

We were both apart of the same swimming world. We actually went to several swim meets at the same time. We probably stood in the same space, because we swam the same events. So I would swim first, and he would be waiting his turn to swim. But never intersected. But to his defense, when I was behind the blocks I wasn’t focusing on anything but my race; and after the race I was dead. Haha!

Another, is his older sister was friends with one of my teammates. So he would often go over to her house. But I wasn’t friends with that teammate. She was four years older than me, and we didn’t get along well. But that teammate live a few blocks from my grandparents house.

My husband worked around the block from my mom’s house. So he drove by my mom’s house everyday. He actually had told me that he saw a strange girl painting a front window of a house. Me! He was also amazed at how much my mom’s front yard was changing, and wonder who the work was being done by. ME! Haha. But never met.

Then another was that, my now husband, grew up in a house up the street from my cousin. The year before meeting my husband, I would drive my brother out to that cousin’s home. I could see my husband’s childhood house from the driveway of my cousin’s home. It was that close! But never met.

So I went online to find someone. You had to be outgoing, back then. Meet someone in a social setting, and I preferred not social. Also I my friends, at the time, didn’t share the same values. The few times I spent time with them…I felt uncomfortable or conflicted with their behavior while being a Christian. My life consisted of family, art, work, church. So online was my only option.

I’ve written so many times about meeting my husband. I searched for him for a long time. My first date with him, was the last time I ever wanted to go on a first date. I was finished after that date. To get invested and to meet and be lied to, time and time again gets rid of the desire to meet someone.

But he wasn’t a lie. He looked just like his picture. Handsome. So handsome. Dressed the way I liked. He was the opposite of me. He was confident. Talkative. Enthusiastic about his life. I don’t know how to describe it, but I knew he was the one. Probably God telling me. On so many other dates, I got the feeling of “no, not this one.” But my husband I knew instantly. Actually after my first date with him, I told my mom he was the one. Nd turns out he called and told his buddy that he had met the one. ❤️

I didn’t think I had a type back then, but my husband is my only type. Like if someone was to ask me I would confidently say, “my husband!” A man who loves me unconditionally. A man who loves me even with all my faults. A man who is an amazing dad; you can see it in my kids faces that they love him. A man who is so very handsome, and still is. A man who loves God; and chooses the right path for us, so that we can have a better relationship with God. My husband is my type. Love him! ❤️

Love you Mister!! 💕

Digital Art
By: emily2jane
08-30-26

My name.

Where did your name come from?

This is a great question. And my answer is actually quite funny.

Turns out my first name was just because my mom loved the name. All my other siblings were given family names. But I was named my name because of pure love. Which makes me happy, and I am okay with that reason.

Especially since I have a name for hopefully another little girl, and the first name is not a family name. It’s just a name that I love.

My middle name is a family name. And this is the funny part.

My entire childhood I thought my middle name came from my grandma on dad’s side. She was an awful human being. I only met her once; once was enough.

Through my entire childhood I thought about what to legally change my name to when I was old enough. That was how much I was disturbed.

Obviously I kept the name. Only to find out, from my mom, that I’m actually named after a grandma on my mom’s side who was a lovely person. Haha 😂 Mind you I found this out when I was maybe 17-19. I can’t remember exactly. But for a long time I wonder how my mom could name me with love and hatred.

Safe to say I was mistaken, and now I love my name. And maybe when I become a grandma, maybe my name will be the start of a family name. 🥰

Have a wonderful Thursday!

“Love Slow Living”
Photograph By: emily2jane
P8-25-23

Kiss.

I think the sweetest thing in the world… Is getting a kiss from your baby. When they don’t know how to give you a smooch and they just open up their mouth and place their whole everything on your cheek… and they give a soft giggle at the same time; it is one of the sweetest things in the world.

And when you return the kiss they laugh and giggle. That small giggle makes you feel so happy and warm.

As I’m writing this she’s talking along with me. She wants to help as mommy writes.

Even if it’s a thought of a kiss or a real one give it to someone you love today.💕

Is it truly Complicated?

“Love is a complicated thing”…that’s what most people say.

I don’t; fake love, forced love, or even a wanted love that God indicates it’s not the right time, of course, are complicated. Believing that love is there when it’s blatantly not, is always complicated. Or forced love…forced love is almost exactly like fake love but it feels worse. Because if it has to be forced, then occasionally the other person is not faithful, or they are manipulating you for their own gain. But the one that got me countless times was the wanted love…wanting, but God implying it was not the one for you or that it is not the time. Wanting something so badly and constantly being shut down or cut off, also, if you ignore the signs given to you, you result to either fake or forced.

But don’t fret; there are many roosters in the world, but to find one that is loyal you must have outside help. For me when the right rooster came along it was easy; we were perfect. It had its ups and downs but my rooster stayed with me through the toughest of times. God helped me find my rooster and without His help, I was only finding fake or manipulating ones.

Now my rooster and I have been married almost 6 months, and we are thinking about having some miniature ones. It won’t be until we are a little more settled, but soon, we will have baby chickens or roosters running around.❤️

I know this post is a little odd, but I wanted to tie in the daily prompt to my daily drawings…I won’t do this every day, but I thought it would be fun for a while.

Fret

Evoke.

“Will she ever wake up?” a figure uncurled from a huge lounge chair in the corner.

“I don’t know, she might eventually but for the time being we must wait,” the doc said with no emotion or concern.

No one really cares if she does or not. Everyone is just reeling in their paycheck after paycheck. I know I’m only seventeen but I know that as long as she stays immobilized and unconscious they all continue to get money. That doctor is just one of those people, but her family has paid him handsomely over the years for her care, so he wouldn’t say no to an easy mark like this.

“You don’t have to stay in here Daniel, I will sit with her if you want to go outside for a while,” the doc said as he begun to drag a chair towards her bed.

“BACK OFF! You don’t care about her. Get out!” I’m young but not weak. I will defend her.

“Okay, okay, and you are wrong Daniel, I do care.” He gazed at her once again before leaving the room.

The room was quiet now, leaving the only sound to be echoed down the hall as the doc slipped away. “He doesn’t care, not like I do.” I creep towards her as she lay softly breathing in pattern to the light breeze. Everyone says I’m foolish to give her too much hope; that I should be outside enjoying the life I have. “How can I enjoy it, if she is not here?”

               The day continued into night, and continued into days. The household continued to bring food, change her sheets, dust the room, and snicker to themselves about when the she will depart.

No one truly cares for her; no one here wants her to survive, besides me. She is the reason my heart still beats; I wish I could make hers jumpstart.

               Months passed and still no change, the doc has given up hope. He just wants a higher pay grade before he continues to, “waste his time” his words, on someone who might never awake from their comma. “I’m sorry son, but I think we should just call it; she hasn’t made change these last eight months, it’s cruel to leave her in this state.”

“You touch her and you will die. I know you are only here for the money, you don’t care for her. You just want to fill your pockets before she goes. NO ONE CARES! Leave us!” I lost it, as his hand reached for the plug. I remember lunging and squirming with the doc; I know my fists made contact with his jaw more than once. I remember several voices, limbs, and bodies; then all went black.

…8 years later…

               My life changed after that day. I guess I made real damage on the doc’s face because he pressed charges. I don’t know how, but I was sent to jail for the night; I was seventeen and they thought I deserved it I guess, because I wouldn’t let her go. I was released eventually; I guess they worried that my revenge for blood would cause me to hunt down and murder the man that put me here. But what was the point, my reason for breathing was gone. Since she was denied the ability to breathe, why should I waste my breath on worthless scum?

After that day, I swore I would fight for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. Of course I was a teenager and faced various fears and horrors but I kept protecting the “littler guy”.  Which caused me to land in prison occasionally, but I couldn’t stand to see people treating loved ones so harshly. You should care and protect them, because they might be taken from you.

After the last time in the tank I decided enough was enough; I couldn’t be in prison for another moment. No matter the actions of people in the world, I can’t experience the brutal, harsh, environment as jail again; no one had my back, no one protected me from others, no one cared enough to sacrifice themselves for me like I had done.

I moved upstate away from everyone. I didn’t care if I never saw a familiar face again. A hermit’s life is the best way of life. I got a small putter job at a large estate as a gardener, good money and peaceful work. I became one of the plants; something alive but just puttering around waiting to be done.

             You know when you can feel someone watching you, but every time you turn there is no one; that is when you know you have been alone to long.

            “What are you doing?” a voice said.

The voice startled me, and I jutted backwards and stepped in hole as I tumbled backwards. “Crap!” Looking up I stare into the eyes of a child, a small girl. “What are you doing sneaking up on people?”

“Sorry, I’ve been watching you, and I was just curious what you planned to do with the rose bush?”

The small face glowed with laughter and excitement. I haven’t seen a child smile in many years. “You shouldn’t sneak on people,” or stock people I mumbled low enough she wouldn’t hear. “What do you care what I’m doing?”

“No reason, you just moved it there, then there, then there, then…” she continued on and on pointing at the various spots I did indeed move it.

“I don’t know, it just isn’t thriving as it should be.”

A small giggle escaped her mouth, “It won’t unless you give it a chance.”

“What…” but the small figure ran up the driveway and waved good bye. “Strange…oh crap my ankle…”

               It’s odd but I waited all morning for the small figure to return. I wanted to complain to her, about her being the cause for my ankle swelling. But she didn’t appear and there was no lingering feeling of being watched. Strange, her being the first person I have felt comfortable with since that day so long ago…

            “What ya up to now?” a girlish squeal came from behind the tree.

At least this time I was clipping the branches of a different tree, “I’m just puttering along. My supervisor said to just do a little of this and a little of that…nothing too exciting. What are you up to?”

She popped out from the tree, skirted around the trunks, to my side, “I’m just out and about. I’m supposed to soak up as much sun and fresh air as I can before returning home, or at least that is what I’m told. Can I help?”

About to tell her no, or I work alone; however instead, I looked into her excited but longing face; I understood the feeling, “Sure, take the cut-off branches and throw them in the waste, but first go get some gloves.”

“Okay!” she scurried off to find some, then began to help me. It was nice to have help, but mostly the company was very new.

Not one peep of complaint came from her all morning, but I could see the strain on her face. I called her over to take a break and sat on the tailgate of my truck swigging back a coke enjoying the sweet summer air. “So do I get to know your name or what?” I asked her as she finished her last sip, “and also your age?”

“Gabriella and 9 ½, yours?”

“Daniel, and umm….blmfpf”

“Huh?”

“Oh alright, 25.” And of course she giggled…

             Again sitting in silence we just watched the leaves float through the air, and the birds soaring a hovering through the tall pines. “Should you be getting back home? Someone will be worried,” as I lifted her to the ground and closed the tailgate.

“Maybe, but I’ve never been missed. I just am…” a flicker of sadness trickled through her face, but disappeared as soon as it appeared.

“Do you want a lift? I’m driving that way anyways, I’m done for the day.”
“Sure. Your old body can’t take any more…” she roared with laughter.

“I’m not old, little missy, I am at my prime age; thank you very much.” Attempting to tickle her, but instead opening the passenger door.

She hopped up and yanked the door shut as well as she could. I sunk into my seat and we were off. Cruising down the road she stuck head out the window letting her flop of hair twist and fly about. To be young and carefree, I haven’t felt that way since I was her age. Her directions were not so much as directions as sudden go this way and that way, but we were driving for a while before she yelled, “Turn!”

Sharpest turn I have ever taken, “Little warning next time please.”

There on a small hill sat a small house. It looked familiar, like evoking a memory from a dream.
“Thank you mister, see you tomorrow,” she clambered out of the truck and started toward the house. I just watched her go, and then the front door opened…Her…

Evoke

Complicated.

The thought of moving is exciting and thrilling. It gets my mind chasing and springing to life! What will my neighbors be like? How will the neighborhood fair, to right now? When will I start having kiddos!?!😊 Will my home be as colorful as I imagine? Will the sky be as beautiful or more so?

On the other hand, moving also means leaving my family behind. They can always come visit, they can always come and see me. But it won’t be often. I won’t see my mom, sister, and brother everyday at work. There won’t be birthday parties once a month (pretty much). Holidays will be hard….and I will miss them terribly.

They have always been there and I have missed the occasional crazy chime-in voice when I say something clever. My husband I do, do it often but it’s different when there are various voices. I’ll miss the moments when I want a mama hug, being able to drive to her house and steal one. I’ll miss seeing my nephews grow up into who they will be.

So much sadness comes up when I think about moving, but also excitement…

So I drew this picture because it’s beautiful to me. And I don’t know if I’m in the house that is colorful or if I’m spying on the house that is beautiful.