nice start
He said, “Dammit you b*tch! You’re a worthless wh*re!” as he slammed the door to bite the wall.
I never thought that this man is ever capable of saying such. At least decades ago. He looked polished, like a man from a decent family, decent school, intelligent, talented, dreamy. He was the man i longed to have - most of the girl wanted to have. He was plain perfect. I never knew then that perfection isn’t real.
I lived in black and white movies. Growing up seeing girls go weak on their knees and throw themselves to this atrocious guy who put a spell to make her fall crazily in love. I grew up listening to songs that woe women to bed, caressing their ears with whispers of promises. I was pretending that love is real, love was real.
Dinner dates, flowers, chocolates, and love songs can help you find the man you’d be wanting to spend the rest of your life with. Dang it! It’s not like that, if only people had told me.
It’s not all walks in the park, holding hands, hugs, coffee talks. It’s hard work. Real hard work and what do you get after doing all the sacrifices? NADA!
First, ladies have to dress pretty. Try as much not to get old, remove excess fat, fix hair, wear nice clothes. Now, what I don’t get is, though girls/women look beautiful, how can their beaus look for another woman? Pardon my French, how can they replace their generally gorgeous girlfriend with a duck face bioche?
Second, you got to earn trust. Not I can’t elaborate on that, that’s the tricky part. All I can say is, you speak the truth, you get in trouble. You don’t say the truth you still get into trouble. I think the problem with trusting people is not trusting yourself and allowing yourself to trust other people. You can’t put your trust into someone if you don’t trust yourself first. Makes sense right?
After you’ve prettified yourself and mastered his trust, the next thing you do is keep him interested.
Hmmm. I think I have to do research on that first.
Love is not all rainbows and butterflies. Learn that. If you didn’t cry then it ain’t love. If it didn’t hurt, then it ain’t love