You.

You held me,

You kissed me,

You fucked me,

You loved me.

You tore me,

You scared me,

You lied to me,

You hurt me.

You left me,

You barred me,

You forgot me,

I still loved you.

Nothing.

One year passed,

You said sorry,

I have peace now,

Thank YOU.

Selfie Love or Selfie Loathe?

Selfies, everyone's doing them - even the dead.

So, I have been pondering the great question of the last year, "How many selfies is too much?".

I have been prone to a selfie or ten at intermittent times over the last year or so and find myself now looking at other peoples profiles on Instagram, Facebook and Tumblr wondering when it does become to much and what are the reasons we feel the need to catch every moment that you are lying down on a bed face up, looking like Jocelyn Wildenstein, pulling a face with your tongue out or trying to re enact a scene from some soft core porn magazine, again on your bed or the loungeroom floor, which ever is cleaner at the time of the "Shoot".

Is it insecurity? Maybe it is genuine self love and the need to share these images with all two thousand + followers (80% of whom appear to be spam with names like Brandi Cox and Fila Meup - actual followers of mine, I kid you not), or maybe it is something far more simple, boredom.

With the recent addition of 15 second videos to Instagram, I have been besieged with videos of people smiling like zombies for the entire 15 seconds, asking questions like "who was your favourite character on Roseanne ?" (or any any other show that finished pre 2000) and my personal favourite, people working out in the gym - AKA "Healthies". Like I don't already feel like shit for not remembering who my favourite character was on Roseanne or not having gone to the gym for months, now I have to face this in 2D!

For me, the selfie has died. I am no longer going to post random images of myself trying to entice people with my food shots, nor am I going to take pics of me having "just woken up". I will leave this sort of thing up to my 20 something counterparts, the ones who seem to live behind their computer and in front of the camera's lens. It's going to be Ol school for me from now, meeting people in the flesh, working out how I can get out of this "uncomfortable date" or maybe, just maybe, actually enjoying the face to face contact us "pre social media" kids were so fond of a few years back. 

Yep, I LIKE this one - Pun completely intended.

In Love & Lost.

I really wasn't expecting this, you know, the love thing. Well, not so soon after I had been dumped.

I had been in a relationship for nearly ten years, I mean who would think they would even want to look at another person let alone think about falling in love again. There I go again with that bloody word again, that word that everyone seems to get their knickers in a knot over, love. That's right, I said it. Love. Well I did and now I seem to be lost in the damn thing. I need to point out that I have NEVER been the "lovey dovey" type either. Really.

It all began via a picture. No really, it did. Mind you the picture was of a massive blister on my toe from a night out dancing, I think it was after new years eve. I'm not sure. Either way, the picture was NOT my best shot, kind of disgusting actually, but it attracted the attention of a lovely man. That's right, it all started over a blister on Instagram! How very modern romance of me.

The chats via the tiny box at the bottom of a picture quickly turned into chats via Face book and then into video chats. Before long, I found myself longing to get home from work and open my laptop to see if "he" was online. He always was. It was beautiful. As weird as that sounds, we always had something to chat over, pick a topic and we could discuss it. I would force myself to stay awake just so I could hear his voice. Then, I would do it all over again before work. Intense? Yeah, it was.

I found myself thinking about this man all day long. What was he doing now? Who was he hanging with? What is his country like? What is HE like? It never really entered my mind to jump on a plane and visit him. Well, it kind of did, but that would just be crazy, right?

I did it. Jumped on that plane.

I was so nervous as the plane touched down. So fucking nervous. But something inside me knew that this was the craziest and most ridiculous thing I had ever done, yet I never felt more right about what I was doing. Weird, huh?

A few weeks were spent laughing, eating, seeing, listening and walking all over one of the most beautiful cities I had ever been too. I had grown so fond of this man, so much so that I found myself falling madly in love. I guess I fell in love with him before I even got there, but being in front of his face most days for some three weeks, just confirmed what I had felt for some time now.

Before we knew it, the time had to come to part ways. I found myself crying beyond belief, my heart feeling like it had been ripped out of my chest and I am guessing that he was feeling the same way too. Now, having been back home for a few weeks, I find myself again longing for this man that I have grown so fond of.

I know that I am that guy that says "I love you" and "I miss you" and yes, it comes 100% from the deepest part of my heart. I know that some people find it hard to hear this based on their own personal experiences and ability to let someone "in". But you know what? As much as I try and change who I am, I can't and I don't want to. It is this very trait about myself, the fabric of who I am, that I see is lacking in so many people who walk this planet. I guess you do have to be mindful of what the other person is feeling and take that into account, but at the end of the day it comes down to a pretty simple thing, the fact that I LOVE YOU.

I promise I will not say it everyday, hell, I won't even say it every month, because yes you are right, you should be able to feel it. But when I do decide to say it again in the future, I hope that you receive it with an open heart. I never thought that I would find myself in this position again, but I have. One day I hope that I see your face again and you feel the same way as you did when I walked out of customs all those weeks ago.

I wake up everyday with the memory of the first thing you said to me when you saw me at the airport: "You are so fucking beautiful". No one has ever said this to me.

Thank you, you have changed my life for the better...