Stay classy

For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.
lomosley:

Because there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than drinking my wine out of a coffee cup sitting in my room naked in my own world. It’s not as distorted with others opinions not being forcing down my throat with what is “wrong” and “right” in this life. And there’s just something about being naked, the way I came into this world and they way I’ll leave, that has a sense of comfort that no one else brings me. To think that my body, just a big bag of organs and bones, is an essential to someone else besides myself. That someone somewhere is missing me, not even knowing if I even exist yet, and dying to meet me. Whether I’ve already met this person, who knows? Honestly I’m praying not because change is what I need. I don’t want a supernatural phenomenon that when I meet this person I just know they’re “The One”. I want to meet someone who is not anything like the list I have in my head; like big pretty eyes, a smile that not only lights up my world but everyone else’s around us, a laugh that stays forever engraved in my memory and is just as contagious as their sarcastic sense of humor, someone who thinks I’m as good as it gets but isn’t afraid to be an ass to me when I’m making an ass of myself. I don’t want a dozen roses or a public confession of your overpowering love for me, no. I want someone to show me I didn’t even know I was looking for. To show me the sides of myself I haven’t yet discovered and I won’t until I finally meet them. Someone for me to spoil with kisses from their head to toe and to show them that I want to make them happier than they’ve ever been. See to me, love to me is caring more for someone else than you care for yourself. Love to me is sacrifice and a daily war to make them fall even more in love with you than the day before. It’s not something you get tired of doing because your world revolves around making theirs better, even with the smallest gestures. I want a love like my mom and dad where you can bluntly see the way God intended love to be. I can only pray that God has a man waiting for me that exceeds my expectations. I imagine that on my wedding day my prayers are going to consist of a million “Thank You’s” and just be in complete awe that my father in Heaven, someone who knew me before I was ever even thought of, took HIS time to create MY person. That he didn’t screw up on him because God makes nothing less of perfection. And He knows my heart like the back of his hand. He made his hands perfectly to fit in mine, his heart just as deep and wide as the ocean to love me with, and his body my designated body of organs and bones that I have a divine appointment with at some point in time. And when I think of all of these things, it slows down my rush and dire need for someone else to love me. I just remind myself that God is still working on me and my person, and that nothing worth having comes easy.

lomosley:

Because there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than drinking my wine out of a coffee cup sitting in my room naked in my own world. It’s not as distorted with others opinions not being forcing down my throat with what is “wrong” and “right” in this life. And there’s just something about being naked, the way I came into this world and they way I’ll leave, that has a sense of comfort that no one else brings me. To think that my body, just a big bag of organs and bones, is an essential to someone else besides myself. That someone somewhere is missing me, not even knowing if I even exist yet, and dying to meet me. Whether I’ve already met this person, who knows? Honestly I’m praying not because change is what I need. I don’t want a supernatural phenomenon that when I meet this person I just know they’re “The One”. I want to meet someone who is not anything like the list I have in my head; like big pretty eyes, a smile that not only lights up my world but everyone else’s around us, a laugh that stays forever engraved in my memory and is just as contagious as their sarcastic sense of humor, someone who thinks I’m as good as it gets but isn’t afraid to be an ass to me when I’m making an ass of myself. I don’t want a dozen roses or a public confession of your overpowering love for me, no. I want someone to show me I didn’t even know I was looking for. To show me the sides of myself I haven’t yet discovered and I won’t until I finally meet them. Someone for me to spoil with kisses from their head to toe and to show them that I want to make them happier than they’ve ever been. See to me, love to me is caring more for someone else than you care for yourself. Love to me is sacrifice and a daily war to make them fall even more in love with you than the day before. It’s not something you get tired of doing because your world revolves around making theirs better, even with the smallest gestures. I want a love like my mom and dad where you can bluntly see the way God intended love to be. I can only pray that God has a man waiting for me that exceeds my expectations. I imagine that on my wedding day my prayers are going to consist of a million “Thank You’s” and just be in complete awe that my father in Heaven, someone who knew me before I was ever even thought of, took HIS time to create MY person. That he didn’t screw up on him because God makes nothing less of perfection. And He knows my heart like the back of his hand. He made his hands perfectly to fit in mine, his heart just as deep and wide as the ocean to love me with, and his body my designated body of organs and bones that I have a divine appointment with at some point in time. And when I think of all of these things, it slows down my rush and dire need for someone else to love me. I just remind myself that God is still working on me and my person, and that nothing worth having comes easy.