the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: love (page 2 of 51)

catch you/re breath(e)

Married life is lit. Continue reading

three times lucky

It occurred to me last week, when we were signing our marriage license, that (once upon a time) I was divorced, married and then divorced again in a 15-month period. Talk about some sheeeeeeeet. Continue reading

i still fuck with you

some(x)
(timez)

when we walked
these
creatures and
things kept. moving
we swam
in salt—
water. and (8)ate
in be(tween)
verses. we did (k)not
talk. a—
bout; the most
remarkable. period
of time: getting t(o)wo(o)…
MUCH.
there. a/our/e functions
how no one will
ever. as we keep
singing. i love saying
no—
thing.

engaged in spain

Namaste love tribe

Since I’ve fallen back in blah-gville. I’ve reconnected with my pre-2009 private self. Back before I decided to spend a few years using daily rants as a visualization tool to get me to New York City.

My time in Manhattan is on the decline. I’m not leaving tomorrow or anything, but my plotting and scheming game is on. I’m making plans, throwing darts, keeping secrets swallowed and grinning a lot in general.

During a recent impromptu trip to Spain, the most spiritually centered, global citizen I’ve encountered proposed forever.

How could I say no to that?

Interestingly, while I’ve had 1.5 husbands, neither of them proposed. It was more an agreement to bind to each other in a way we felt the state required. It was never about forever.

Certainly nothing like this. And this man, well – I’ll be keeping the details to mySelf.

But we totally need to talk about Spain…

I spent a week eating tapas, rolling through waves and drinking chilled Spanish reds. We smoked cigars and watched shooting stars. From the most southern point of Europe, I gazed across to the shores of Africa.

Between Madrid and southern Spain, we drove through mountains of olive trees and weaved along rocky coastline. I swam in two different oceans and heard Spanish spoken at lightning speed because, as my future husband advised, “We talk a lot faster in southern Spain.”

I stayed in three different houses, one with views of the sea from the bedroom balcony where the air reminded me of being home in Australia – scented with lavender and eucalyptus. I bathed in the Mediterranean as my man, a native of the land, approached me glowing in golden light declaring, “Stay with me forever.”

And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

In Spanish tradition, rings are worn on the right hand. A silver band represents engagement – gold is exchanged at the wedding.

Oh, and apparently I’ll be having something like that. Because according to my man. “You have never had this before, and I want to give that to you.” Continue reading

here. nor. there.

I’m back in town.

The plan was to hide in sticks-ville for my entire out-of-office time… alas, things are always beckoning me back to my favorite girlfriend of Manhattan.

I reckon I’ll stick around two weeks, then dip back out. The trees and sunshine are suiting me.

Also, my heart is bandaged after being diced. Repair isn’t the right term. Some things don’t exactly heal, getting better is a start.

In usual form, I wrote a poem about it. I promise I’m not usually so predictable… only when it comes to heartbreak and poetry.

(untitled)

we remained
beyond a(s)(certain)
state. we spoke —
i mean he
said things to(o)
my heart. that
you would never
he/re/ar… understand
when we combined
together, became
a new expression.
i never sang before
exhaling our whisper
and blowing out —
extinguishing all
prior pictures of
never. before.

 

Older posts Newer posts
Content Protected Using Blog Protector By: PcDrome.