This weekend, I have talked and counseled a former beau. We've remained friends, though he moved on much quicker than I. He now has had his heart broken, and needs a shoulder to cry on, and I am more than happy to provide that shoulder. Why? Because our friendship is worth more than the pain I get from hearing about him being with another lady, who apparently confused him by letting him go suddenly.
He was never one to say "I love you," not when we were dating, but recently, he has been telling me he loves me. I know it is not in a romantic way, but those words hurt. They sting nearly as much as when the lady told him she didn't want to see him any more. Sadly, "I love you" doesn't mean what it did in the past.
I have always related to Liza Doolittle. After all, I'm a flower girl. Im told I became friends with the flowers in my mother's garden before I became friends with anyone else. I also love to fall for men who want to improve me, make me be my best Kimmy I can be; then dump me.
At any rate, I want what Liza -- and all of us -- want: love. No frills, I don't need a high profile fella. I just want a cuddle and a goodnight. That's not asking for much. Is it?
SHOW ME! Just as Liza demanded of Freddie, words mean nothing if your actions tell a different story. Don't say you love me if you don't, don't keep furthering the lie, it only hurts more in the end. Be honest. Check on my welfare and help me if I need it. Hold my hand when I'm frightened. Spend time with me. Show me.