Relationships

BUILDING TRUST IN YOUR RELATIONSHIPS: LESSONS FROM A CHEATER

How I Arrived to Where I Am Now I cheated on my boyfriend of five years with the man that is now my husband. My now-husband was torn when I made my first move, too good of a man to consider being the “other man.” I persisted and, in the end, we had a brief romance. It all occurred in the weeks leading up to my departure. What was meant to exist on its own, inside a hermetically-sealed bubble, was actually the undoing of my five-year relationship with my boyfriend. I was the instigator of its demise because I knew that this had been more than a fling. I knew that my would-be-husband was something far more. But I had no idea, nor model, for how one goes from being the “piece on the side” to being “the main dish.” Based on my time with my boyfriend, I swore I knew what it would all look like....

TODAY

Today I crossed paths again with the necessity of having you between my legs deep inside, ’til you reach my inner core. I remember that moment of realization that miracles were possible the first time I looked into your eyes. Right after, the magic and hope returned to me. Yes, it is true. I would not lie, getting under your sheets was a memorable adventure. A mistake I would not mind drowning in repeatedly. Today I crossed paths again with that part of myself that never hides, but I never face. The one encouraging me to run away, to stop in front of your toes. To kiss you again, kiss you to death and keep running, keep hunting the shades (of us). Today I will jump to the abyss of my memories. I will turn to dust my mystery/misery to play the happily ever after. Today, today will be ...

THE FRIENDSHIP BREAKUP

I remember when I first wrote this post, under the same name, when I knew our friendship was over, but before you’d ever said so. I remember writing it, without knowing the full details, accepting a future I knew was inevitable. I bet, K, you assumed that I wrote that piece after what you did—all of it. But I didn’t. I wrote it at Christmas. A Christmas I’m sure you remember well, because you spent it in America. I knew before Christmas. No one else did, and everyone else assumed we were still inseparable, the best of friends. Did you know, K, on my last day, Sophie caught me sobbing? And do you know what she said to me, K? “Don’t worry, Carla. It doesn’t matter what she did to you. You have amazing people like K in your life. You know K would never hurt you like that; you two have always ...

NIGHTMARES AND DREAMS

I have learned how to better wear these pains on my skin, how to hang them from my fingertips and make charades of the nightmares that haunt me, so that you might witness that which you cannot truly see I have gone so far as to explore the places within me otherwise left behind locked doors Be patient with me And I promise you will see That which I do not yet understand myself – Nightmares in Charades     Can we meet again? In a few years? In another life? When I have learned The hurt of losing you Because I am Looking at you now And I already know That I do not appreciate, Do not care for you The way you deserve to be But I would say goodbye Shatter this heart with my own hands If you would allow me that glimmer Of hope That I might find you again When I can worship you Th...

CWTCH ME IF YOU CAN

“Any man can cuddle, but only a Welsh man can cwtch.”   The first time I heard that was from a stranger last summer.  We had just met on a train earlier that afternoon headed up the Costa Brava from Barcelona, Spain.  I had planned to spend the weekend at a hotel on the beach but ended up losing myself in his rolling accent and bright blue eyes instead.  Before I knew it, he was convincing me to miss my stop so I could get off at his.  Fast forward a few hours later and we were wrapped around one another in a twin-sized bed. I didn’t realize it then, but I had been cwtched, and my heart had been caught.  In case you’re wondering, cwtch (pronounced “kutch”) is a Welsh word that goes beyond your hugging, snuggling, and the ever so common cuddling.  It involves an element of protection...

THE EXPERIENCE OF WOMEN

Loving You  “If you fall in love with their soul before touching their skin, it’s true love.”    Of course I was drawn by the way her eyes lit up, and how her smile played at danger. She’s got this  way about her, whether she’s arguing Chomsky or quoting Atwood, I get lost in the cosmos of her  eyes she is magnificent.  The way her voice lifts and lightens sings a summer song and though I am more at home in the  midnight, meeting her has often made me dream of the way trees grow toward sun. When she rambles  of home and reminisces the country fields, I wonder what it would be to see through her eyes.  But who decides that love must grow a certain way? Who told us to consider our worthiness likened  to that of a rose: losing petals at the touch of a lover, always left a little less. Because...

WHO DO YOU THINK U R

who do u think u r  i wish i could go one single day where every time i had something to say i didn’t start with a stop to think “well what do they want me to say” what words, what joke would it take to convince anyone to give me an extra second of their time of their lives even just have them pretend they give one shit about me as a human.  i wish i could go one single morning without waking up completely choking – on the fear i’ll never be what i want them to see – suffocating before i have the breath to say anything from the weight i’ve created that’s dragging me down as i try to jump to these standards i can’t even see from the ground Thin, Smart, Successful, Thin, Liked, Loved, Unforgettable, Thin, Beautiful, Strong, Independent, Thin. who’s even behind all of ...

THE GIRLS BEFORE ME

She burned through you like an incense,   Slow.   Until there was nothing left at all.   The wooden stick was all you had left,   But you threw it away.  I will search everywhere for the remains,   and I’ll keep it close.   I will soak it in oil and light aflame,   so your love won’t have to feel the pain   of burning out again.     Author: Hannah Grimes  Author Bio: I’m Hannah from Saint Louis, Missouri. Writing is new to me, but I use it to express what I feel gets stuck on the inside.  Link to social media: Instagram @hannah.svrsn

WHOLE

Too many times I thought  if he loves me  everything will be ok.   If he stays the ache  will unwrap itself   from my ribs and find  somewhere else to call home.  I told myself   I was not depressed  I was just unloved.  I searched for this love  inside their mouths,   between their teeth,   under their tongues,  between their legs…  In the attempt   to be made whole  they drank all there was,   no glass half empty,   only empty.    I was running,  with scissors,  from the only one  who could complete me  and that was me.       Author: Raquel Franco  Email: raquelfranco.poet@gmail.com  Author Bio: Raquel Franco is a wife, mother, friend, sister and daughter. A woman with the intention to connect and share her experiences, she dares women to be brave, to find confidence and carry ...

I HAD DIVORCED LOVE… ONLY TO ASK FOR IT BACK

I was twelve when I first remember not believing in love.  It’s not that I didn’t believe in love in the same way kids stop believing in Santa Claus, or how some people don’t believe in God. I knew love existed, I just didn’t believe it was worth the effort. I didn’t have enough faith in love to be confident enough to pursue it.  When I was ten, I had come home from my fifth-grade Christmas concert to hear the word “divorce” spoken to me in a way that was no longer distant—it was personal. And the weight of it felt too adult for my ten-year-old self to bear.  It took two years of watching things unfold for me to truly understand what “divorce” meant. It meant seeing my parents hurt behind closed doors and wearing smiles that were full of anything but happiness. It took two years to see the...

EXPLORE

I want to be unexplored But you invaded my grounds Destroying what you could Chiseling away at every piece Taking what you want   When you packed up & left You took what you found Leaving nothing but dust From the grounds you explored       Author: Hannah Krebbs Email: krebbs.hannah@gmail.com Author Bio: My name is Hannah Krebbs, I am a senior at Northwest High School. For my creative writing class, we are required to submit some of our work to be published, and I have chosen Harness Magazine.

I WAS THE OTHER WOMAN. I’M HERE TO TELL YOU IT’S NOT OKAY.

He was 32. I was 20. You’d think that with me being so young, he might have taken pity on me, but I guess some men are just hardwired to not give a sh*t. I waited a year and a half to confront the girlfriend-of-five-years through an emotional and heartfelt message on Facebook. I prepared myself for the fallout, and I knew I deserved every single thing that she spewed at me: how she told me I took part in ruining a relationship, how I should have told her sooner, and how I’m a terrible person for not doing so. I told her I understood, and that I couldn’t express how sorry I was. She ended it by telling me to (essentially) f**k off. I deserved it. I’m not in the business of making myself out to be the victim. I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care that he never uttered her...

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