Sunday 13th November
Travel widens your horizons, it gives you hopes you may not have had before. Each person opens up a new perspective with their stories and pasts. With travel I have dared to dream of ideals not considered by my ancestors. I have dared to wait for more.
I’ve met people who love to talk, people who don’t – people who are naturally demonstrative and people who are absentminded. I’ve had friends who were quick to be affectionate and those whose trust had to be won but were friends for life.
In all honesty there is no one thing that is better than the other – there is no one way of showing love and giving love that is the ‘right’ way. Yet I find myself increasingly gravitating towards people who act on their words. I’m not one for grand gestures, I’m a girl with simple tastes. I do not ask to be worshipped over. I do not ask to be put on a pedestal. But sometimes it’s nice to feel treasured.
After meeting guys who refuse to ever have a conversation, guys who cannot handle a rational discussion – men who have not yet conquered their tempers and think that the loudest voice wins – it makes a pleasant change to be around people who are open to talking about things and coming to an understanding. But I’ve been so pleasantly surprised – and relieved – to find that people like that do exist, that I failed to notice that the actions that followed hardly – if ever – lived up to the promises they made.
It’s all well and good coming to an agreement about something. But if you consistently fail to deliver on what you have said you would do, you might as well never have had the discussion at all. Some might say the intention is there and that’s good enough. Once, twice – sure. But not every single time.
If you love me, don’t put your money where your mouth is – just do what you say you’re going to do. I don’t need you to give me the world, I just need you to follow through and say ‘I’ve got this’ and show me you do.
I feel like a woman in a Western – from another time another era. Somehow I’ve been left behind and not a cowboy in sight.
If the mundane is too inane to commit to, then how can I trust you with the profane? This love, this life – the trust I give to you is profane in both senses of the word.
Cue: Paula Cole singing “Where is my John Wayne…..”