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If I were to conceptualise a list of ten desired qualities in a man, he would score eleven out of ten. He was my other half, this uncomprehendingly wonderful being that fulfilled my life, so much so that I sometimes doubted his existence and thought that I had contrived him in a dream.
He inspired me, challenged me and loved me just as I was: He touched my soul so deeply that I was completely vulnerable to his grasp, which was always tender and caring.
He taught me what it felt like to truly love someone down to your core; what it felt like to constantly live with a burning desire, so strong that it actually pains you, and he showed me the perpetually engulfing warmth of deep, flaming, impassioned, mad love.
He dreamed up delightful visions of our future together — bright enough for both our imaginations. I loved every element of his soul.
What he deemed flawed, I saw as more reasons to love him: Our conversations were energy-filled debates of love and adoration: He was my perfect puzzle piece: He was a down-to-earth man, taking a liking to the distinctive story behind every object, location and individual, equipped with the remarkable ability to connect with your soul; his presence an eternally rare gift.
He encouraged my passions, loving the way I wrote words that I had never spoken, and my constant desire to make them bounce off the pages on which they were written. But he was also was my reality: My heart was safely, snuggly wrapped in a blanket of his pulchritudinous love; and so I always carried him with me, wherever I went: With him by my side, I felt like I could conquer the world, reach all my goals and dream up inconceivable dreams; but with him by my side, I was just as content with dropping everything for a simple, happy life of togetherness.
The timing was wrong.
I was in the winter of my life, stuck in an icicle of numbness: My life was a circulating frustration, filled with demons of the past, and I needed to find myself before he found me. I was hiding behind a mask of optimism, running away from the claws of my emotions.
He came into my life at a very fragile time, and soon discovered that loving a conscious woman is hard work. I wanted simple; however, the new me and the life I was leading was far from simple.
Writing your first novel is a dream for authors of all ages. The simple truth is that writing your first novel is like riding your first bike: painful, awkward and often filled with pratfalls. 9. Love Your Project. Novels are the longest of the long game. It can take months (or, more likely, years) to write the first draft, turn it into a second draft, find an agent, go out on submission, and land a deal—which is only the beginning of another very long process. Love is in the air, love is everywhere! First feelings are always special, new, unexplored, coupled with childish innocence and a pure vision of the world. It may sound ridiculous, but the fist time I felt that I’m alive, was the moment I felt in love for the first time.
I was frustrated with him for the way he made me feel: I should have realised that I was sick: I stopped writing, reading, watching films, enjoying music, exploring the world that was on my doorstep, and I had lost my hunger for the taste of new experiences — core elements of the woman that I am.
Drowning in self-loathing, my full glass of frustration soon overflowed onto him, the one person that understood me and the only one I allowed close enough to my heart to be my comfort. I should have painfully pushed my pride aside, and accepted that my frustration was caused by my routine, my lifestyle, and my refusal to accept that what I thought I wanted out of life, and the pathway that I had taken, was incorrect.
Despite the fact that he was faced with the toughest time of his life, a time of loss, unwanted change and unimaginable sadness, he was still there for me; and I was undeserving. I could not give him the love and support that he needed, and it lead to a pointless war within.
I was not ready for his love, as much as I desperately thirsted to be ready for it.
He was my first love, and my first heartbreak.My first love, even though I do not see you and only merely know about your survival through Facebook and Instagram, I just like to occasionally check in, to see that you are happy.
Understand Your Audience. When you write a romance novel, you start out with one big advantage. You already know who your reader is: it’s a woman. To be more specific, it’s a middle class and middle aged woman from the South.
They like ice tea and hot romance, and . Re-enact your first date with the love of your life. 5.
You have just recognized the girl or guy in the elevator with you. If you have success with these free creative writing prompts about love, try writing about their counterparts, prompts about death. Related Articles to Free Creative Writing Prompts #2 Free Creative Writing Exercises #2.
Aug 18, · Declaring your love to someone for the first time will probably be a little different on paper than writing a letter to your wife of 20 years.
Remember to state your love somewhere in the letter. A simple "I love you" works just fine%(). Here are some tips on how to write a powerful love letter that will make your partner cry tears of joy.
Things to Consider Before Writing Your Love Letter. Before I get into the brass tacks structure of how to write your love letter, there are some things that I feel need to be expressed explicitly when in comes to the craft of love letter writing.
1. An unfinished love keeps some allure for many years.
Whatever keeps those tender feelings in play, some long to have that feeling again as evidenced by those who go in search of that first love. With social media around now, it is not difficult to do. Each time I wrote of a love story, my own first love came to mind.