Here, There and Everywhere

Posts tagged ‘kiss’

Let It Run Deep

61gbBPp8TJL._AC_US218_More Than Simple Words: Reality vs Love
by Xcaliber Anthony and Derrick Marrow.
Reviewed by Gabriel Constans.

The best way I can review this intimate collection of poetry by Mr. Anthony and Mr. Marrow, is to write a poem about it. Here is my reaction to More Than Simple Words.

Rhyming, lyrical, longing and love
More than simple words is all the above
It whispers of grief, trust, and intimacy
with sublime and insightful legitimacy

These poets hearts are crying for freedom
and reveal the depths of our racism
Redemption, pain and peace travel steep
and the words are laid plain for us all to keep

If you love love, and don’t want it to sleep
read More Than Simple Words and let it run deep.

One of my favorites from the authors revealing collection is One Love.

You keep my tongue in ecstasy
The mental images bless me
Your rapture keeps me stress free
Emotions change when you caress me

I study your history
I don’t repeat those mistakes
When I’m gone you miss me
I know what’s at stake

My mind revels in your rhythm
Passion entered my system
You schooled me with your wisdom
You flowered this lifeless stem

Wrong words can cause a schism
so I watch what I say
We split preconceptions like a prism
for you eternally I’ll stay

My lips wait and wish for your kiss
As a kid I never imagined this
You took the mental cuffs off my wrists
We too struggle to attain bliss

Now we play music fingerless
remember the world is yours
Tighter than a clinched fist
we shine brighter as we mature

Lesbian Tips for Men

images-1Wake up my testosterone engorged brothers. Our estrogen dominant queer sisters have the inside scoop on pleasuring women. If you want to get off your tired stereotyped butt and really connect with a woman, listen up. They know whereof they speak and they say it loud and clear.

Melissa and Kayla kindly shared with me the real low down on gender, sex and relationships. Their advice is tempered from a lifetime of loving women. They blew the top off the usual paradigms and images males cling too and provided a choice, challenge and opportunity for men to approach women in a different light. Here are some of the juicy tips and wise suggestions they shared about how to truly love a woman and enrich your life.

DON’T BE CONFINED OR LIMITED BY SIGHT. Men get stuck in the visuals and only see tits and ass or some mountaintop to climb and reach its peak. Gender is more complex and fluid than that. It can be difficult for men to enjoy the whole picture and appreciate the in-between places, the different layers and textures of a woman. Women tend to be more process oriented and appreciate a man who sees more in them then a place to park their penis.

DON’T FOCUS ON “GETTING OFF”. The illusion that it’s hard for women to climax is bogus. She can come by herself anytime she chooses. When you’re together enjoy being together. LOVEMAKING IS AN EXCHANGE, not a pursuit.

STOP TREATING WOMEN’S NIPPLES LIKE A TARGET. They aren’t radio tuning knobs or buttons to be pushed. The nipple is one small part of the entire breast, which is connected to tissue across her chest and under her arm. Enjoy the whole thing. The same goes for the clitoris. It is contained and surrounded by an array of wonderful muscles, nerves and skin that extend outward and inward. Take it all in.

ENJOY THE SENSUALITY OF SEX. Enjoy moment to moment pleasure. Take time to love every inch of your partner. Let the tension build, then linger, play with it, experiment, bathe in the ebb and flow of energy. USE ALL YOUR SENSES of touch, smell, sight, sound and taste. Sex is a basic human need. It comes in a variety of flavors. Make it tasty. Make it fun.

TAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND/WIFE/PARTNER/FRIEND TO AN EROTIC BOUTIQUE OR HAVE HER TAKE YOU. Get some toys, books, lingerie, videos, oils and/or vibrators. VIBRATORS AREN’T JUST FOR WOMEN. Men can receive just as much pleasure from a vibrator as a woman can.

BE WILLING TO HAVE ANYTHING YOU DO WITH HER DONE TO YOU. That’s right, anything. If you want to have her kiss, lick and suck you everywhere, then do likewise. If you love kissing her breasts then let her lick and suck yours. If you want to come inside of her or have anal sex, be willing to have anal sex and be penetrated by her. Be willing to take what you give (but only when it is something you mutually wish to experience and is safe).

LISTENING TO YOUR PARTNER WHEN SHE SPEAKS AND GIVING HER ATTENTION IS LOVE. Eye contact and the courage to honestly reveal yourself emotionally and physically is love. When you risk being open and intimate you allow her to do likewise. Sex isn’t just jumping into bed and diving in; it’s sharing your feelings, thoughts, desires, fears, hopes and dreams. It’s being open to change and transformation. COMMUNICATE in bed (or on the floor, table, couch, chair, car or beach). THE BEST LOVERS ARE THOSE THAT TALK about sex, feelings, thoughts, experiences and desires.

MOST WOMEN ARE PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY IN FLUX. Instead of complaining about these changes, CELEBRATE THE UPS AND DOWNS, the curve balls and the unexpected. It makes life more adventuresome and unpredictable. Every day is a new day. Every time you make love is different. What a wonderful gift to be sexually reborn and see each other for the first time again and again.

CAST A SPELL. Create a nurturing, loving, sacred environment for you and your lady. Use it as a retreat, an inner journey and a safe sanctuary to explore and discover your erotic selves. Sex doesn’t take place in a sterile vacuum. Put it in context. Give it time, attention and meaning. Make an altar to your sexual union.

IT TAKES COURAGE TO BE INTIMATE and not let the privileges that heterosexual men are accustomed to in our society confine your life and define who you are. Our greatest fears are to allow another human being to look inside and see who we really are. Don’t just touch a woman’s body; touch her soul. Open the door and let her inside your heart as much as you want to be inside of her. ACKNOWLEDGE THE BEAUTY, WISDOM, SEXUALITY, POWER AND FREEDOM IN THE WOMAN YOU LOVE.

Spice It Up With Heart

Nothing spices up a relationship like romance. Whether you’ve been together ten days, months, years or decades, sharing your love and desire for your partner is the ultimate aphrodisiac. Everyone wants to be adored and appreciated. You don’t need a lot of time and money or a doctorate in sexology, to keep the sparks flying. Here are a few ways to re-vitalize, reawaken and jump start your partnership.

images

Place flowers that are visually stimulating on the table and change them several times a week. Roses’, tulips, daisies, forget-me-nots, gladiolas, sunflowers, carnations and orchids are just some of the vast array of plant species that provide sensual images of curves, softness, rising, opening and merging.

Take a TO DO list to your office or place of work. On the list write down special, thoughtful things you are going to do for your partner every night when you get home from work. Help with the dishes, finances, dinner or childcare; massage their neck and shoulders; stop and get them a card or gift; pick up a movie they’ve been wanting to see; or just telling them how much they mean to you.

Get up early in the morning, while your love is still sleeping and make them breakfast or go out and buy breakfast. Serve them breakfast in bed, with accompanying flowers and coffee.

Ride bikes, run, walk and/or hike together in the woods, meadows, valleys or parks. Keeping fit maintains your health and increases the odds that you will live longer to enjoy one another’s companionship.

Allow time for each of you to be with friends and family separately. Friendships outside the relationship are vital. Nobody can be everything or fulfill all your emotional or creative needs. Give your partner the freedom to interact and connect with others. Talk with your partner about your friends and family; let them know about their ups and downs. Though your time with others can be special, don’t keep secrets.

Join a club, church or civic organization together. Get involved. Help your selves and your partnership, while helping others. Remember that your marriage is dependent on many factors, including family, friends and community. Your relationship doesn’t take place in a vacuum. Honor the connections and lend a hand.

Give your partner a massage, from head to toe or vice-a-versa. Apply hot towels and massage oil. Try different scents and oils until you find one you both enjoy. Take your time. Intimately explore every muscle, curve and crevasse. Ask if you’re applying too much or too little pressure. Trade giving and receiving massages if you have enough time or alternate evenings for one, than the other. A good massage can be as sensual and pleasurable as any sexual act, especially when it is given with attention and care.

If time alone was the main ingredient for a loving partnership, than everyone would be in bliss at a specific given moment, but the spice that really keeps the fire’s burning is attention and care. It is the time and attention that make the difference.

If you feel that you aren’t getting the same kind of thoughtfulness in return, talk about it, don’t let it slide or take it to bed. There is nothing wrong with conflict, as long as you learn how to work with it and accept your differences.

Take a pause from thinking about your self and help your partner with their coat; give them a hug and kiss before you leave and when you return; check in throughout the day and ask about how they’re feeling, what they’re thinking; become an emotional barometer that tunes into your love’s weather station.

Remember what brought you together and attracted you in the beginning. Think about your deepest intentions. What do you want from your relationship? If it is money or sex, it will never be enough; if it is security and safety, you will never feel completely safe and secure; if it is to love and be loved, there is a good chance you’ll find it. Whenever you forget why you’re together, return to your heart.

Tomas and Annalise – Vier

From It’s About Time by Gabriel Constans.
A novel based on a true story.

Vier

Tomas glided out of the kitchen with a tray full of breakfast delights and placed it on my lap. He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair out of my eyes.

“Wow!” I said, drooling. “What a feast!”

“‘Tis the least I could do for my fair maiden,” he replied, kneeling down to kiss my hand.

As I pulled him closer, almost knocking over the tray, he kissed me again. “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.

He sat up slightly and asked, “Where were you while I was trudging through the kitchen castle, slaying the stove dragon for your breakfast?”

“Alas, I must confess, dear prince, I was thinking of when we first met. Remember?”

“Remember?” he started, “of course; how could I ever forget?” He looked at me with mock surprise. “You were like a genie coming to life, but instead of me rubbing your lamp, you rubbed mine.” His laughter warmed the room.

“It was my second day in Chicago,” I recalled. “I’d just met your parents the night before and was pretty exhausted from the flight. You came in the afternoon. We were in the living room when I heard you come in the front door and yell out for your mom and dad. Your parents hollered back, ‘We’re in here, son!’ We all stood up, except for Jens, who sarcastically introduced you as ‘My older, but dumber brother, Tomas.’ You looked at him, as if you’d heard it a hundred times. ‘Hi, nice to meet you,’ you said. You looked incredibly handsome in your dark suit and tie.” Tomas blushed.

“You had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen,” I recalled, staring into his sparkling pools. “They took me in like the deepest ocean. When you shook my hand, your grip felt strong and gentle. I trusted you without hesitation or regret. You’ve never broken that trust.”

He kissed me on the cheek as I continued the memory. “Jens said he had some business to take care of and asked if you’d show me around. I was delighted at the prospect, and you didn’t appear to be to put out either.”

“It was a pleasure, to say the least,” he smirked.

“You were intensely polite and had impeccable manners,” I continued. “You spoke to me with dignity and respect. I felt like you actually cared about what I was saying. you betrayed not a hint of condescension, belittlement or false modesty. And your German was excellent. I’d never heard an American speak so well.”

“It’s gotten a little rusty,” he admitted.

“After a few days of you ‘showing me around,’ I started wondering if I was living with the wrong man.” My mied feelings bubbled up in the retelling. “I was excited, bewildered and terrified. I remember telling myself to stop considering such crazy ideas. You were my boyfriend’s brother, for God’s sake, but the more I tried to stay away, the closer I got. It was like someone had put a chocolate sundae in front of me and said ‘Don’t touch!’ You were all I thought of, night and day. I’m not sure you knew what to make of me. You probably thought I was a slut or something.”

“No,” Tomas remembered. “I was confused all right, but not by you. What scared me was what I was feeling towards you. It was terrifyingly wonderful! I tried to forget about you by calling some old girlfriends in town.”

“You called a girlfriend?!” I kidded. “How could you?”

“They were useless.” He shook his head. “All attempts at releasing you from my heart were futile. I told myself Jens didn’t deserve you and I was right – but he was still my brother and you were his girl, so to speak. The clincher was the day before I left, when you pulled me into the bedroom, closed the door and kissed me with such passion and urgency I thought I’d ignite.”

“That wasn’t planned!” I laughed. “It happened before I could stop myself. You know me,” I said shyly. “Would you ever have expected me to be so bold?”

“Not then,” he exclaimed. “Now, yes!”

“Only with you.” I grabbed his robe and forced him closer. “You deserve this,” I exclaimed, as my arms wrapped him up and our lips collided.

After we’d caught our breath, I told him to look in the pocket of the suitcase.

“What for?” he asked.

“The letter.”

“What letter?”

“The one you sent me after we met,” I said. “I brought it with us.”

He found it, came back to bed and handed me the envelope.

“No, you read it.” I handed it back. “I want to hear it in your voice. Please?”

“It’s been a long time since I wrote this,” he said, as he looked it over. He lay down beside me and began.

“Dear Annalise. Your letter arrived last week and I don’t know how many times I’ve read it, trying to think of a way to respond. You seem to have a hidden talent for making a person feel special when he’s around you. There’s something I must confess before going any further: I played with you a little bit at first, in the hopes of making Jens jealous. It seems that he takes you for granted and that made me made. I hate to see anyone used as if they were a piece of furniture. Aside from that, I also believe he thinks no one else would ever have any interest in you. I never figured my plans would backfire and I would start falling in love with you. But I’m glad things turned out the way they did. This might change your feelings towards me, but I hope not.

When it comes to good-byes, they’ve always been rather hard for me, ‘besondous dieses mahl.’ I wanted to get closer, but then the tears really would have started to flow and for some strange reason – which I can’t quite figure out – I don’t like to see myself betraying such emotion. Seeing you go bothered me very much inside. It seems we’d only known each other such a short time and then we had to part. Time can be cruel when you’re given so little of it.

Sitting in this crummy little apartment that the Foreign Service provides can be rather dreary, but when I think of you, that makes it more bearable. I don’t remember when I began feeling the way I do. Perhaps it was when we shared that kiss. My feelings are something one can’t really pinpoint; they just seem to have developed beyond my control. Love Thomas.”

We sat in silence, holding hands and sighed. The memory of that meeting sunk deep into our bones.

Tomas finally turned, wondering, “Why did we let it slip away?”

“We didn’t let it slip away darling; it was taken,” I reminded him.

“I guess so,” he said softly.

“Jens didn’t trust me with anyone, “I recalled. “I don’t think, at that point, he consciously knew how much I was drawn to you, but unconsciously, he must have felt something. He’s such a jealous bastard!”

“Of course he felt it,” Tomas said. “How could he have missed it? Too bad we didn’t know what to do about it.”

“You mean,” I asked, “if I hadn’t been such a chicken and felt so guilty.”

“No,” Tomas quickly corrected. “I mean, if I hadn’t been such a coward, we could have been together like this years ago.”

Tomas looked down at the floor.

I lifted his head gently, my hand under his chin. “We don’t know what might have happened. We’re here now and I love you so much!”

His eyes watered, his chest heaved and he began to weep. I held him to my chest and felt his salt tears dampen my skin.

MORE BOOKS AND STORIES

A Good Book

Excerpt from short story collection Saint Catherine’s Baby.

A GOOD BOOK – PART 1

“Hurry up Sy! We’ll be late, Ruthie hollered from the hallway, as she threw on her wool coat.

The last time they arrived late at a book signing at Sophie’s Choice, to hear Isabel Allende read from her latest release, they’d ended up by the front door with biting cold wind attacking the back of their necks every time someone entered or left the building. Sophie’s was there favorite literary hangout among the plethora of bookstores in their academically diverse college town. It was named after the owner, Sophie Thompson, who had taken her sister’s advice and appropriated the familiar title.

“Sy!” she yelled again, just as he turned the corner from the upstairs bedroom and descended the aging wooden stairs, which squeaked like asthmatic mice with every step.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” he grinned, still tucking in his shirt. “You’d rather I go naked?!”

Ruthie’s lips parted slightly as she watched her husband of thirty-four years. He walked with a slight limp from his hip surgery the previous summer.

“Damn,” she thought. He looks good.”

She waited until he reached the last step, stood on her toes and shared her thoughts by planting a kiss on his familiar weathered lips and giving him a squeeze around his hips. When their mouths parted he kissed her slightly rouged cheeks and put his large fingers through her shoulder-length wavy gray hair.

As he snapped his tan parka, he asked, “Who is this we’re seeing again?”

“Alice Hooks.”

“Hooks?” he rolled questionably across his tongue, while holding the screen door open for Ruthie to lock the door. She put her arm in his as they walked towards there eighties Plymouth. “Isn’t she that environmental fiction writer you like so much?”

“No,” Ruthie said, waiting for him to unlock the car door. “You’re thinking of Barbara Kingsolver.”

Sy opened her door.

“Thanks Hon,” she said, as she sat on the old torn leather seat.

Sy went around the front, climbed in, patted the dashboard for good luck and turned the ignition.

“Still purrs like a kitten,” he said sweetly for the ten-thousandth time.

They drove out of the gravel driveway, down Chestnut Street, towards town on the straight and narrow two-lane road they had driven their kids and step-kids to school and themselves to and from work for thirty years. This was Sy’s second marriage. He had two children from his previous marriage and he and Ruthie had purposefully created one of their own.

The next in kin had all flown the coup long ago and kept in touch with their “old folks” with fluctuating degrees of attention, based on their needs and/or personality. The one constant connection with their offspring was their children’s children. They had three of these grandchildren, two by birth and one adopted, to whom they were severely devoted and unashamedly tethered.

“Alice Hooks is a writer of romantic feminist fiction,” Ruthie explained. “The book she’s reading from tonight is Close Encounters. It was nominated for The National Book Award last year.”

“Sort of like Gloria Steinem falling in love with Steven Spielberg?”

“I knew you’d say something like that,” Ruthie sighed. “I just knew it.”

“Well,” Sy replied, still grinning at his own joke, “I had to say it then didn’t I? I don’t want to destroy your expectations or diminish your superior powers of Elementary Spiritual Perceptions.”

Ruthie gently slapped his leg with the back of her hand.

“Far from it,” she smiled. “Close Encounters is about a woman called Maya. She’s an anthropologist and professor, who circumnavigates the globe on research expeditions. While studying antiquities and cultures she also searches for a man who is willing to practice feminism in bed, as well as at work. Every time she thinks she’s found her mate, he starts to subtly or blatantly manipulate her and splits when he doesn’t get what he thinks he wants.” Ruthie sighed noticeably.

Sy’s smile had vanished. He gazed straight ahead, as if he was a student driver concentrating on not making a mistake. As they reached the city limits he said, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Does she ever find the man of her dreams?”

Ruthie’s left hand rested gently on Sy’s thigh. She could feel his hamstrings tighten with each step on the gas peddle. “I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t finished it yet.” She smiled and squeezed Sy’s leg. “But I’ve found mine.”

Sy was flooded with relief by Ruthie’s re-assuring words. He had always helped raise the kids, cleaned and cooked at home and believed that women and men should be respected for their character not their gender. He was beginning to look forward to hearing this Hook’s lady.

The parking lot at Sophie’s Choice was full.

“I knew it,” Ruthie admonished. “Will have to park on the street.”

Sy found a spot a block away. They walked briskly to the entrance and to their surprise, saw two empty chairs in the far back. They made their way to the metal folding chairs, used their coats as cushions to sit on and caught their breath. Sy took in the crowd and noticed that only two other men were in attendance, re-confirming his enlightened attitude.

Their timing was impeccable. Just as they had taken their seats the introductions were completed and the author, to much applause and a few jubilant trills of sisterly welcome, stepped up to the podium.

Sy was mortified. Not only did Alice Hooks not look like the radical feminist he had envisioned, but she was not Alice Hooks. The woman he saw standing before the crowd, waiting respectfully for the applause to subside, was Alice Hawkins, the woman he’d been in love with in college.

“I can’t believe this,” he proclaimed, while his eyes remained riveted to the wet lips and long neck he had once kissed so passionately.

“She must have changed her name,” he whispered to Ruthie. “I knew her when she was Alice Hawkins.”

“Shhhh,” she replied.

Sy was eternally grateful that they were late and ended up in the back row. “I wonder if she would still recognize me?”He pondered. “I doubt it,” he answered himself. “I was nothing to her.”

As Alice began reading from her book Sy couldn’t push aside the gut feeling that her personal life and thus his own, was being laid bare for public consumption. He was undoubtedly one of the men she had based her story on.

“He raised his sweaty head from the pillow,” Alice read, “and practically spit in Refina’s face.” Alice glanced at the audience over the top of her designer glasses, then returned to the words on the page. “’You aren’t worth it,” he said coldly and turned away. You don’t understand.’

‘Understand what?’ she pleaded.

‘Me. You’ll never understand me.’

Rafina replied, ‘I understand you all to well.’

‘See!’ he yelled, with a trembling voice, as he got out from under the rumpled bedsheets and put on his bathrobe. ‘You’ve never liked me!’ He pouted, retreating to the bathroom. She slipped on her nightshirt and followed.

‘There’s no pleasing you,’ she said, standing in the doorway as he pissed away his anger. ‘Whatever I do isn’t enough. You always want me to be different.’

He shook off the last drops, tied his bathrobe and walked past her as if she were part of the door frame.

‘Lies,’ he whispered. ‘All lies.’ She watched him zip up his pants. ‘How often have I told you I love you?!’ he said accusingly.

‘Yeah,’ she agreed. ‘How often and when?’ He stopped tucking in his shirt and stared blankly. ‘Whenever I get physical, is when,’ she stated. ‘When I act like your sexual puppet, is when. Whenever I do things I don’t really want to do out of fear I’ll lose you. And you know what?’ He put on his watch and started towards the door. ‘I’m going to lose you anyway.’ She wiped her fingers on her nightshirt, as if she was trying to rub out the memory of his touch. ‘I don’t need that kind of love.’

‘See ya Refina,’ he said, turning. ‘I hope you enjoy being alone. You’re so damn controlling and manipulating nobody could ever put up with you.’

‘Don’t project your crap on me!’ she shouted, as the door careened open and he disappeared down the hall of the old city hotel.

Refina stared through the door at the empty hallway and concluded, ‘I’d rather screw myself then let that fool think he’s loving me.’”

***

After the reading Ruthie wanted to get her book autographed, but Sy lied and said, “It’s late honey. I’m a little tired.”

She looked at the long line and the clock, hesitated, then reluctantly agreed.

Sy deftly guided them towards the door, along the far side of the exuberant crowd that had cheered Ms. Hooks with a robust standing ovation.

CONTINUED TOMORROW

MORE STORIES

Money and Sex Can’t Buy It

Nothing spices up a relationship like romance. Whether you’ve been together ten days, months, years or decades, sharing your love and desire for your partner is the ultimate aphrodisiac. Everyone wants to be adored and appreciated. You don’t need a lot of time and money or a doctorate in sexology, to keep the sparks flying. Here are a few ways to re-vitalize, reawaken and jump start your partnership.

Place flowers that are visually stimulating on the table and change them several times a week. Roses’, tulips, daisies, forget-me-nots, gladiolas, sunflowers, carnations and orchids are just some of the vast array of plant species that provide sensual images of curves, softness, rising, opening and merging.

Take a TO DO list to your office or place of work. On the list write down special, thoughtful things you are going to do for your partner every night when you get home from work. Help with the dishes, finances, dinner or childcare; massage their neck and shoulders; stop and get them a card or gift; pick up a movie they’ve been wanting to see; or just telling them how much they mean to you.

Get up early in the morning, while your love is still sleeping and make them breakfast or go out and buy breakfast. Serve them breakfast in bed, with accompanying flowers and coffee.

Ride bikes, run, walk and/or hike together in the woods, meadows, valleys or parks. Keeping fit maintains your health and increases the odds that you will live longer to enjoy one another’s companionship.

Allow time for each of you to be with friends and family separately. Friendships outside the relationship are vital. Nobody can be everything or fulfill all your emotional or creative needs. Give your partner the freedom to interact and connect with others. Talk with your partner about your friends and family; let them know about their ups and downs. Though your time with others can be special, don’t keep secrets.

Join a club, church or civic organization together. Get involved. Help your selves and your partnership, while helping others. Remember that your marriage is dependent on many factors, including family, friends and community. Your relationship doesn’t take place in a vacuum. Honor the connections and lend a hand.

Give your partner a massage, from head to toe or vice-a-versa. Apply hot towels and massage oil. Try different scents and oils until you find one you both enjoy. Take your time. Intimately explore every muscle, curve and crevasse. Ask if you’re applying too much or too little pressure. Trade giving and receiving massages if you have enough time or alternate evenings for one, than the other. A good massage can be as sensual and pleasurable as any sexual act, especially when it is given with attention and care.

If time alone was the main ingredient for a loving partnership, than everyone would be in bliss at a specific given moment, but the spice that really keeps the fire’s burning is attention and care. It is the time and attention that make the difference.

If you feel that you aren’t getting the same kind of thoughtfulness in return, talk about it, don’t let it slide or take it to bed. There is nothing wrong with conflict, as long as you learn how to work with it and accept your differences.

Take a pause from thinking about your self and help your partner with their coat; give them a hug and kiss before you leave and when you return; check in throughout the day and ask about how they’re feeling, what they’re thinking; become an emotional barometer that tunes into your love’s weather station.

Remember what brought you together and attracted you in the beginning. Think about your deepest intentions. What do you want from your relationship? If it is money or sex, it will never be enough; if it is security and safety, you will never feel completely safe and secure; if it is to love and be loved, there is a good chance you’ll find it. Whenever you forget why you’re together, return to your heart.

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