From the moment i saw her i was taken abaste. She was like a breath of fresh air. I knew i had to have her and be with her the rest of my life as soon as i layed eyes on her.
From across the room i studied her body, her curves, what she was wearing. I was to afraid to get close and take her into my arms like i wanted to.
I finally worked up the courage and i slowly walked toward her. I grabbed her and took her into my arms. She sounded so nice.
She was the best fender stratocaster i had ever seen. I knew as soon as i had her that we would be together for the rest of my life and she would never let me down.
I was in true love, a love that would never fade.
I love you fender stratocaster, i love you with all of my heart and always will. I will have you, i must, you will be mine.
I was just posting on facebook yesterday that the very first guitar ever made had a pair of breasts. therefore the hour glass shape of an acoustic guitar, after the body of a woman. I went on to say that almost every guitarist I know looks to the guitar like a love affair with a woman. It is mysterious to me. I love my guitar.
There is a condition called object sexuality (that doesn’t mean you want to have sex with your guitar). Object sexuality is a condition where an object has extreme significance or importance in a person’s life.
I get this a lot. For my guitar, and my car. My car is named Bruce, after Bruce Campbell, Bruce Banner, and Bruce the shark from finding Nemo. He has been with me through everything, even when everyone else was too afraid of what I had become. I treasure him.
After giving this more thought, I do see a point where this could become a problem, and that point is when the object is personified. For example, if an object is viewed as a person to the point where a human attachment is formed it’s problematic.
I agree. My relationship with Bruce will become problematic when it’s time to let him go. I will probably spend thousands of dollars fixing him instead of admitting defeat. Hopefully that day is a long way off though.
It was love at first sight for me the only time I ever fell in love…doubt it could be that way again. I think I was just going through a weird phase. But I did love her. But it could never be that way again…My love is earned, it’s not a given…anymore. No matter who you are, no matter how you look, no matter what your underlying personality that my intuitive mind can uncover does… It could never be like it was on that cold fall night in 2009…when I fell in love. I don’t know what I did wrong completely. Today I woke up and wondered why she doesn’t realize how much I’ve improved myself/recovered from mental health issues, and why she doesn’t fall in love with me NOW, that the storm has passed. The dreary gloom in my eyes. At last, we’ve been through a lot together. But then again she’s not a hop skip and a jump across a bridge from me anymore. I’m 3000 miles away. I think we were NEAR perfect for EACH OTHER. But it was the wrong time in my life. Maybe it would have been different now. But she served her purpose. Yeah she broke my heart. Which will help me going forward. Having a broken heart is a good defense mechanism against falling into a women’s trap… Because it doesn’t happen twice. It only “kind of” happens twice. Kind of happens three times. But the fourth time, it’s just non-existent. There’s no love, no lust, no like. Just empty feelings towards this person that happens to be a female. That’ll help going forward. I figure.
Maybe one day I will fall in love. But she’s changed. I’ve changed. We’ve fallen apart as time has gone on. We’ve gone our separate ways. But my love is earned now… It takes time. Not to sound conceited or anything, because it goes both ways for most. But I could never fall for a woman so quick again. Even though sometimes I feel she was #1 in the entire universe for making me fall at first sight for her. #2 wouldn’t make me fall in love…anymore
Sorry I figured this was a romantic thread so I’m just spilling my heart on the paper.
Broken heart
Hate me? How can you hate me? For I am as great as God. And all knowing too. Will I be happy? I can’t be sure Finding true love keeps us detached But nobody loves us. Nobody is capable of sharing our love You didn’t occur in my world until lives after you were created Lives after your clouds were deeper than the ones surrounding Michael and Seraphiel themselves. But I wasn’t the one to estrange us. I learned my fate aeon’s ago. The first time. The only time I saw the hallucination. But love is not just imagination. Love is real. It comes to life. But this love wasn’t meant for me. This love was separate. It’s too bad too. Conceivably suits and peas would follow. We’d conquer galaxies. And when it all came to an end, inside the walls of a crumbling hospice. On a dark cold morning past the days of calendars. After a trillion suns burnt out. Past that. Decades after moments past that. Millenniums beyond centuries after that. We’d lay on the ground. Covered in leaves and bugs. Ready to be swept up to the heavens by death himself. After demons had perished Generations had been lost. God lost.
I don’t think I can ever really fall in love with an object. It’s against my principles to put too much faith in earthly things, at least theoretically…
and at any time, I can be tossed unto the streets; so I have to remain detached from material things.
