Please Persephone

“Are you serious?” I asked her, somehow hoping against hope that she wasn’t. She was quite serious. She was getting in the car and driving to California, with or without me. She had just gotten off the phone with her long-distance boyfriend, Kent, and they were going to meet for the first time. Not only were they going to meet, but they decided they wanted to live together.
“Please,” I begged. “I don’t want you to go alone.”
“I said you could come with me. I’ll be okay.”
“We don’t know that for sure.” I tried to assure her. “I really don’t think you should do this.”
Her voice grew louder, “Why not? Kent is my boyfriend and the love of my life. I want to build a future with him.”
The word “love” made my mouth drop, “You’ve only known him for three months. You don’t know him like you think you do.”
“We talk every single day. Plus, you’re single yourself, what do you know about love?”
“Listen to me for one second!” Frustrated, I pulled her to the love seat, and I stared at her while she looked towards the ground.
“I’m not trying to put you down or diminish how you feel. People usually aren’t single because they don’t know what love is, but because they have experienced true love along with heartbreak. I don’t want to judge your relationship, but I want you to think about the whole picture. Living with someone that you haven’t met in person…it’s dangerous. I say all of this because I love you, and I care about your well-being. You’re considered an adult, and you can go do whatever you want, but I don’t want you to do what I did.”
“What’s that,” she questioned.
“Love blindly. Your eyes can be open, but your heart doesn’t need to see. It needs to feel. Embracing the good moments and conquering the bad. Give Kent time to show you his story before skipping to the end of the book.”
She looked up at me, “I hate when you do that.”
Confused, I asked, “What?”
“Care.” She smiled at me, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” We hugged for a brief moment. “Let’s get some ice cream and a movie tonight.”
“Sounds good.”

Except I didn’t say any of that. When she told me she was going, all I could say was, “Have fun. Call me when you get there.”
I never saw or heard from her again.

Guest Writers Wanted

You read that right!

I am looking for guest writers to submit writing pieces of their choice onto Taking Back Love.

The “Guest Writers” guild is for anyone who wants to get their writing out there without having to create a platform themselves.

Here’s how it works:

• Submit writing piece(s) to takingbacklove@yahoo.com.
• You will go through a review process and editing software and will be accepted or rejected by a judging panel.
• It is free to submit. I will not charge you to submit. I want you to have ownership of your content, which also means I won’t offer payment either. If your work starts becoming profitable on the site, we can discuss and write up a contract. I’m giving writers the right to remove any of their work from the website if they choose to.
• Once you have three writing pieces approved, you will have a category under “Guest Writers,” so the audience can find the full collection of your work faster.
• You can also be anonymous, but all of your pieces would remain under the general “Guest Writers” tab, regardless of how many are approved.
• You can submit artwork or graphics for each piece, but make sure no one else owns it (ex. google images). Get stock photography from websites like Canva. I can also make the graphic for you as well if you wish.

How to be rejected:

• Plagarized work
• Over 25% of writing piece has spelling and significant grammatical errors.
• Health and Beauty product reviews. It would be a conflict of interest with my products.
• If the writing piece is over 2000 words. If you want to post a series, you can always split the pieces up, and they could be approved separately.
• Non-fiction pieces that provide discrimination or harm against a specific group of people.

Any questions or concerns, don’t be afraid to email me at takingbacklove@yahoo.com 🙂

Six (Red) Flags for Online Dating

I like amusement parks, but the games should stay at the park and out of the dating scene.

What is a red flag?

A red flag is a warning to stop what you’re doing and get the heck out of dodge.

No one is perfect, so I dont reccomend dropping everyone who seems like less. But it’s crucial to pay attention to certain details when getting to know someone online.

Today, we have shows like “Catfish” that show us hundreds of people who trick others into dating fake people, give money, and devote time and commitment into something that doesn’t deserve their time.

There’s also been cases where people are tricked into meeting up with someone only to be attacked or kidnapped.

You and your safety should be #1!

Here are six red flags to online dating:

1) What’s on your finger?

This has been a recurring issue I didn’t think I would have ran into as many times as I have in my dating career.

It’s hard to spot this when talking to someone online, but besides asking the obvious question, “Are you married?”, look deeper into any pictures they provide or have on social media.

We tend to look at the more…obvious features, but sometimes we disregard someone’s hands in a photo. I went through a recent situation where I was so into their face and how well the conversation was going that a friend had to point out the ring in one of his pictures.

Not everyone you meet are going to be considerate people.

2) Everything is “too” perfect.

You think you found the one when you first meet them. They are a 10 out of 10 on the hotness scale (or whatever you use, sorry I’m an older millennial that wants the AIM and Myspace days back). They tell you you’re gorgeous every day and will listen to every minute of you complaining about the worker that made your coffee wrong. And it turns out that they are surgeon and professional soccer player.

If only.

There’s a good chance that when someone is coming off where their life is perfect, there may be something off or something they aren’t telling you. Everyone is human which means that everyone has faults to an extent.

I went on a date with someone that said they were a model for Abercrombie & Fitch, owned their own home, and I did actually ride in the Mercades-Benz.

There was one little issue: He was unemployed, lived with his parents, the car was his dad’s, and when I asked questions because what he was saying didn’t add up, he threatened to set my house on fire.

I don’t care how much money someone has or what car they drive, the real issue is don’t completely lie about who you are.

3) Not sending present-day pictures, not talking on the phone, and no video chat.

This one grinds my gears. I’ve noticed that we live in a world where talking on the phone is considered dreadful. I can understand that to an extent, but I remember talking to one of my best friends on the phone every day growing up, and it made the day brighter.

I think individuals get nervous about talking on the phone or video chatting, but I also think it’s fair to get to know who is actually behind the screen. Sending pictures is a little bit easier, where people can use filters and good lighting, but I still have met people who won’t do that either.

If someone is not willing to do at least one of these things, you should run. They could be a predator or in my case, your ex (maybe that will be a future lifestyle post). Like I said earlier, your safety should be priority, and unfortunately you have to be careful.

4) Texting you once in a blue moon or 12 messages without letting you respond.

Another quick story: When I was opening the store at my old job one morning, someone messaged me on Tinder. They had said “hello” and I figured I could respond to them on break or when I get off work.

This was what I received within five minutes:

Hello
How are you
You're so handsome
What do you do for fun?
Hello?
Are you not into me
Figures
Wtf b*&^$
You are so rude
And ugly
Let's date
Please?

I never unmatched so fast in my life.

Being bombarded by message after message, without giving you a chance to respond, is a sign that maybe you shouldn’t pursue this.

I’ve also had this type of experience with online dating:

Them: Hey, how are you?
Me: Hey, I'm good. How are you?
		One Month later
Them: I'm good. 

It’s important to also watch out for the individuals that have conversations with you and then disappear for long periods of time to only come back like everything is fine.

You don’t want to date someone who is blowing up your phone every minute of the day or someone who barely gives you time at all. You deserve better than that.

5) Every message turns sexual.

Have you been in a conversation where you’re trying to get to know someone, and somehow they relate everything to something sexual? I know I have.

Here are some examples:

Me: What do you do for work?
Them: You.

Me: What types of qualities do you look for in a partner?
Them: I'm so horny right now.

Me: Hello.
Them: *Sends nude photo*

When you’re getting to know someone for the first time, the sexual nature can be overbearing (especially for someone who is looking for a long-term relationship). It’s a sign that they are interested in you physically, but that’s about it. They don’t care what you have to say or your substance.

Getting off is more important to them.

6) Social media profiles are top secret or non-existent.

Are you a social media detective? I have been guilty of talking to someone, and then searching for their social media profiles. It’s a way to see who and how someone is through what they post.

It can be a little sketchy if you can’t find those social media profiles or if you do, and they are locked down with little to no info.

It’s one thing if you can’t find the profiles because the individual chooses not to have them, but it’s another thing when they say they have them, and then you can’t find them because maybe they’re not who they say they are.

If you have that off-putting feeling about them maybe being a catfish, you can always try to reverse photo search their images.

I recommend reverse.photos

Thank you for reading! If you enjoy the piece, make sure to like, comment, and share. Stay up-to-date on posts by scrolling down and clicking the “follow” button.

I also sell non-toxic, personal care products so if you want the best for your body, go to http://www.purehaven.com/purefrank
There is a great black Friday sale going on until December 2nd 🙂

Hey Jackie

Monday, September 2nd, 12 pm

“Hey Jackie, it’s Nathan. It’s about twelve in the afternoon, and I wanted to wish you a Happy Labor Day. You’re more than welcome to come over. We got hamburgers and hot dogs and macaroni salad, you’re favorite. If you do come over, make sure to park across the street. You know how Aunt Sue gets about being blocked in the driveway. Alright, hope to see ya. Bye.”

Wednesday, September 4th, 6 pm

“Hey Jackie, Nate again. I missed you at the cookout. Mom says hello. You know Dad, always golfing. The new “It” movie comes out this weekend; I know you’re a big horror movie buff. Maybe you would want to go together? Let me know what time is best for you; I can go anytime after six. Goodnight.”

Friday, September 6th, 6:10 pm

“Hey Jackie, I just got out of work, and I’m ready to have the pants scared off of me. I still haven’t heard anything from you, I hope you’re okay. I know things are weird right now, but you can talk to me. I’m your brother, and brothers are supposed to be there for their sisters. Well, if you decide to come, I’m at the Roslin theater and heading there now with Lucy. Lucy, do you want to say hi?”
“Hi, Jackie! I hope all is well!”
“Okay, sis, talk to you soon. Bye.”

Saturday, September 14th, 2 am

“Jackie! Are we going to keep doing this? Me calling, you not answering? Uh, I don’t feel so good. The guys kept saying, “You can’t down another shot.” And I said, “Fucking watch me!” Seven shots later, and I’m still kicking. I can’t find my keys anywhere. I guess I shouldn’t drive. Not like you care! Where’s the loyalty sis? Your brother is alone and vulnerable. Someone could rob me or kill m. You’re gonna feel like shit if I die. You’ll be sorry.”

Sunday, September 15th, 1 pm

“Hey, Jackie, it’s your brother. I just woke up. I have one of the worst migraines I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’m alive if you were wondering. No…I’m not going to go there. I’m sorry about last night, but when are you going to talk to me again? To the family again? You can’t just disappear, it’s not fair to us. Mom is worried sick and wants to help. Please, call back.”

Thursday, September 19th, 10 am

“Good morning, it’s Nathan. Today is Mom’s birthday, she would love to hear a birthday message from you. You already know where we’re going tonight, we go every year: The Ritz. Mom’s going to play tennis with her friends now, and we wanted to surprise her this year. Dad and I pooled our money together, and we picked up those diamond earrings; Mom has been gushing about all year. Can’t wait to see you tonight, at 6 o’clock, bye.”

Thursday, September 19th, 4 pm

“Jackie, it’s Nathan. We’re meeting at The Ritz in a couple hours, where are you? You can’t miss this, Mom is going to be heartbroken if you’re not there. Call me.”

Thursday, September 19th, 5:30 pm

“I’ve been calling you over and over again, pick up.”

Thursday, September 19th, 5:50 pm

“Answer the fucking phone!”

Thursday, September 19th, 8 pm

“You dyke bitch. After everything Mom and Dad have done for you, this is how you repay them. Everything was fine before you came out. You know Dad’s best friend is Father Andrew, and Mom…she was mortified. Embarrassed. I wonder who eats pussy better between the two of us. Don’t even bother reaching out. You ruined this family.”

Blue Eyes

His face was cold,

Frozen,

Like December ice,

I could feel the rejection in his soul,

Blue eyes filled with years of painful memories,

I kissed him with confidence,

So dumb,

He swallowed me whole,

My heat was depleted,

As he became warm again.

Reading Between The Palms

It’s the 16th of the month. That means my favorite client is about to walk through that front door any minute. In my line of work of fortune-telling, every client must get an accurate reading, an honest feeling from their palms. Oh…here he is. His name is Paul, and I think he’s a nice guy. He’s about 5’8-5’9 in height, light brown eyes, and blondish-brown hair that’s swept over to the right ever so perfectly. His eyebrows are medium-thick, telling his eyes they are here to save the day. His nose is crafted beautifully with nostrils flared, and his ears only stick out a little. His mouth smiles, even when he’s not trying, and his facial hair is light above his lip, but thick sideburns hug his face. My favorite part about him physically is his hands. They are consistently smooth, and it’s the one part of him I get to touch. When I trace my finger down the lines in his palm, I want to moan. Okay, so I’m in love with the guy. But you would be too if you breathed in five seconds of his handsomeness.
Today, he’s wearing a white button-up shirt, and purple tie and my eyes are guilty of fixating on his muscular definition. I assume by his attire and timing of appointment that he’s on a lunch break at work. I learned that he’s an attorney in an office building a block away from my residence. I was surprised to see an attorney come to me for spiritual guidance and to return once a month. He wants me.
“Katrina!”
“Paul, It’s good to see you!” I want to hug him, but my professionalism stops me.
“Let’s take a seat, shall we?” I lead him to the back room, where I like to make all of my predictions. I used to have a table near one of the front windows, but some of the kids downtown would cause distractions during the experience. One kid specifically would lit his shirt up and rub his prepubescent chest across the glass.
We sit down across from each other, he lays his hands out, facing up as my hands cradle them. I give importance to his right hand and being interpreting the heart line on his palm. His palm line begins below the index finger, “I see a healthy love life. Are you seeing anyone?” Part of me sees someone’s presence, and another part of me wants to know if I have competition.
He bites his lip when smiling, “There has been someone I’ve been talking to for a while now.”
My eyebrows raise, “That’s interesting. Would you say you see this person every day, or every week, or every month?”
“What?” He looks rightfully perplexed.
I pull back the reins, “What I mean is seeing and talking to this individual every day…I envision conflict and turmoil. Someone that you see every month…there’s a bright future there.
There’s an awkward silence in the room, and there’s only one way I know how to create a diversion.
“Let’s move onto the headline.” I trace the line slowly, and it’s relatively similar to last month: a straight line. He’s structured and thinks realistically, and realistically, he could be with me.
“I see you’ve been performing well at work.” That gorgeous smile lights up the room, “Yes, I just won my last case.”
“Congratulations. Continue what you’ve been doing, and you may even see a raise or promotion in your future.”
“More money is always nice.”
I nod in agreement and begin losing myself in thought. Why do I continue to keep quiet about my feelings? This is a smart, good looking, and kind man who continues to come back, and I don’t say anything. I mean, he doesn’t have a fate line in his palm which means his destiny can travel in any direction. I’ll be his compass.
“Paul, do you love me?”
“Excuse me?”
“I feel that each time we see each other, our spiritual connection deepens. I can’t stop thinking about you; you’re the last person I think of when I go to bed. I…”
Paul’s face is shocked as he rises from the chair, “I think I’m going to go.”
“You can’t leave! I mean, you don’t feel the same way I do?”
“This is the 4th time I’ve entered this place, we’ve never conversed more than psychic stuff, and I’ve been talking to a girl for a while now.”
I stand up from my seat, “Why keep coming here?”
“The girl I’m talking to likes this stupid stuff. It’s been four months, I want to get laid.”
“Stupid?!” If my hair could be angry, snakes would hiss.
My voice turns coarse, “Get out, non-believer!”
“You’re crazy,” he gawks as he walks out.
I can’t believe I ever liked that man, let alone love him. Even though he’s as uncultured as a pig, it may take a while to get over him. I hear the bell above my door go off.
A man around six feet tall wearing a suit walks into my shop.
He’s very handsome.
I think I just found my new favorite client.

It Was Just A Joke

It was just a joke when I called you fat.
You eat quite a lot,
You’re always hungry,
You complain about going hiking,
Your thighs rub together,
You can’t put the damn fork down.
It was just a joke when I said you’re retarded.
You read slower than us,
You make weird noises,
You don’t know how to do simple tasks,
You can’t stop fidgeting,
You say the dumbest things.
It was just a joke when I said I loved you.
You wanted reassurance,
You craved attention,
You said it first,
You needed my company,
You would have been lost without me.
It was just a joke when I touched you.
You were asking for it,
Your underwear was showing,
You wanted to get laid,
You made me mad,
You stayed with me.
It was just a joke when I told you to kill yourself.
You didn’t have to listen to me,
Your friends would have stopped you,
Your life wasn’t that bad,
You’re irrational,
You weren’t strong enough.
Can you even take a joke?
My father, my brother, my uncle, my grandfather, my neighbor, my professor, my coach, my lawyer, and my president said it was just a joke.

Unreal Encounter

Jack entered the bread aisle in the grocery store as he decided to feed his temptations once again. A woman with long, blonde hair turns her cart into the same aisle soon after.

“Jennifer? Is that you?”

“Jack, what are you doing here?” She looks startled.

“I’m here to shop.” Jack looks confused, “How have you been? I miss you.”

“You should leave.” Jennifer stands her ground.

Jack grows upset, “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting this way? I thought you actually cared about me.”

Jennifer steps closer, “I’m telling you to go because I do care about you very much. I can’t see you here.”

Jennifer turns her cart around and starts running towards the other end of the store. Jack proceeds to follow her, gasping for air.

“Jennifer, please.” Jack huffs as he’s having trouble keeping up with her.

“Stop following me, Jack!” Jennifer swerves into a random food aisle.

A set of lights go out as Jack exerts himself to catch up to her. A female employee walking towards the bathroom screams as she sees a man lying on the floor.

“Help! He’s not breathing!” A co-worker and manager run over, and the worker begins CPR while the manager tells the female employee to call 911. The police arrive, and as the man is being carried out on a stretcher, the manager begins answering questions, “That was Jack Dorsey. His wife, Jennifer, passed away last year from Breast Cancer. He was never the same since.”

I Want To Be

I want to be an adult. When you’re ten years old, you have to listen to grown-ups. I just want to eat ice cream whenever I want. All of my money will go to new toys. No more school. I make all of the rules. I can see friends whenever. Sleepovers and pizza every single night. Being an adult is fun.

I want to be a kid again. I’m tired all of the time, and I wish all of the naps I cried through I stopped myself and closed my eyes. Everything costs money. Before I know it, it’s time to pay on the mortgage, car insurance, and please God can we stop going through food so fast? I reach the cash register after thirty minutes of shopping, and the screen yells, “$250” at me. I miss my parents. I wish I could hear their voice again, even if they are scolding me. I know everything was out of love. I miss my friends. We’re all super busy with work and our new lives. You develop a future with someone, and it feels like everyone else becomes lost at sea. I thought school was annoying until I started working in an office cubicle and someone twenty years younger than me is telling me to hurry up. I don’t want to hurry up.

Time went by too fast, and I want to do what my child is doing right now: dreaming.

Girl, Expired

She left me.

We promised one time when we were about 10 years old that we would always be friends.

We would see each other smile until one of us was dead.

I think you died when I reached out for months and your phone line was cut.

Maybe I needed two different cups on a string.

Ones that weren’t filled with disdain, I’m a servant to pain, I gave reassurance umbrellas while I stood in the rain.

She didn’t care.

I was a fool to think I was the exception to her body count.

If I give her a place to hide, if I give her alibi after alibi, turn lies into lullabies, then I would be fine.

Saying “yes” was playing with friendly fire.

Pleading guilty to someone else’s crimes, when I have so much on the line, but I loved her.

I think I still do, but I won’t admit it.

Break all of my bones, and I’m still limping.

Forget me for good, and I’m still thinking of the good times where the world was irrelevant except you and I.

I see a husband, a daughter, and a new you.

Or maybe this has always been you.

My rose-colored glasses fell off, expectations expired, and there’s nothing else for me to do but to forget about you.