Big, beautiful vegetables excite me #mediterraneanfood #imweird #iloveveggies
The real hunger games
Jennifer Lawrence representssss
Officially engaged and totally in love (with the man and the ring)
I love people who wear their hearts on their sleeves. I love meeting people like this because it is so inexplicably rare nowadays to meet someone who isn’t trying to protect himself in some way. Someone who may be afraid of failure or rejection, but who has no idea how to conceal or withhold what he really feels, and so he doesn’t even try. Someone who has not even a crumb of a chip on his shoulder. I admire it even more because it is a quality I wish I possessed. My self-consciousness has always made me feel restricted; my instinctive desire to protect my heart from any rejection or hurt means I always think twice, thrice, four times even, before I say what I truly feel. So when I meet people who are “open-books”, I am automatically attracted to them.
While it may be rare to meet someone who has no qualms about expressing his feelings; it is even more phenomenal to meet someone whose feelings are pure gold. Looking back, I don’t think I have ever met someone like this before now. It is almost as though his soul isn’t deep inside him like I would imagine mine to be, but more towards the surface of his being, more tangible, more visible to those he comes into contact with. It drew me in right from the moment I met him and later I realised it wasn’t just me who felt this way. Everyone agrees he exudes a warmth that would disarm any cynic.
It sounds embarrassingly soppy to say that I’ve found my soulmate, but since I’m on the subject of speaking what’s in my heart; I’ve found my soulmate, and I’m ever so grateful.
😂 This says it all
I have always been a romantic. A romantic of the worst kind. The kind who devours anything to do with love. The kind who would read really good romance novels and really cheesy ones, but adore them both equally as long as there’s a happy ending. The kind who is moved by even the mildest expression of affection, and who reflects that affection almost instantaneously, whether the source is worthy or not.
It isn’t an easy to disease to live with because, sadly, there is no cure for romanticism and there never will be. Ask anyone who has been affected by this and they’ll tell you it often causes them more pain than joy to love love so much.
The problem with romantics is this:
1. Our standards and expectations of love are so high, often fairytale-esque, that we are already setting ourselves up for disappointment right from the beginning. We want dedication, infatuation, altruism, passion, addiction, commitment; every possible noun that one could think of to describe what love is.True romantics aren’t even interested in the package. Of course we have our preferences and personal tastes but that is always separate from the love we desire.
2. We are incapable of protecting our hearts. After our last disappointment, we tell ourselves; no, beg and plead with ourselves, to lower our expectations, to engage only half our heart or none of it at all, to suppress the butterflies. But when the next one rolls in, we resignedly hand over the reigns of our hearts all too quickly. It’s not that we don’t know our poor tickers will be returned worse for wear but we’re unable to resist the temptation of hope. Which brings me to my next point…
3. We never stop hoping. We may feel crushed, broken, battered and bruised inside, but we somehow manage to pick up even the tiniest fragments that have come apart and put them back. For all people, the newly restored heart is changed after the damage, but where romantics differ is that their expectations never change. When they’ve set their eye on a great, all-encompassing love, they will never be satisfied with anything less.
The fact is, anyone who can continue to hope when nothing seems to be pointing to the prospect that they’ll find what they’re looking for, is deserving of the very thing they so courageously seek. No matter how elusive it seems, no matter how choppy the seas become, the romantic will never, can never, concede defeat until they find Happily-Ever- After.
You occupied my heart without a lease,
Rented free of charge,
And left without returning the key.
Memories can’t fill the holes in the walls
Where pictures of your smile used to hang
I let you hang around in there for far too long,
Used to you being inside.
Your absence- now illegal as your presence.
Don’t come back though,
I’m boarding this premises up.