I Wish.....
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MysteriousRomantic
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Joey3308 said:.....that I had someone to snuggle with...its gettin really cold out
I wish we could grow old together
Joey3308
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MysteriousRomantic said:
Guess what....we are
Here's a great place to go have a chat when you're bored
http://oliverbot.com/
MysteriousRomantic
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Joey3308 said:
thanks joey. I have heard about your special websites LOL
Joey3308
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MysteriousRomantic said:
Have ya been to the sno globe one? Its the greatest...I spend too much time there but its soooo funny
http://ww12.e-tractions.com/snowglobe/globe.htm
MysteriousRomantic
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Joey3308 said:Have ya been to the sno globe one? Its the greatest...I spend too much time there but its soooo funny
http://ww12.e-tractions.com/snowglobe/globe.htm
LMOA joey that is hillarious
Darkknight2010
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MysteriousRomantic said:
Remembering a sweet sci-fi story... about someone who re-experienced someone's life... he and his wife grow old together... and you see him sitting over her bed as she slowly dies, no pain, no regret... just saying goodbye but knowing it was worth every moment... every touch... every smile... to be able to share your LIFE and SOUL with that one person...
babydoll2u
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Darkknight2010 said:
I loved that story... and you're right....
there's nothing more beautiful than to be able to share your life and soul with one person...
babydoll2u
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kikmosa said:I wish I had someone.... even if only for a single day.... just to know I wasn't alone...
i know sweetie... trust me, I know
MysteriousRomantic
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Darkknight2010 said:
that is what I want. More then anything in this world.
hello babydoll.
MysteriousRomantic
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kikmosa said:I wish I had someone.... even if only for a single day.... just to know I wasn't alone...
HUGS you tenderly
MysteriousRomantic
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I wish I had a love like this.
The Grand Illusion
A Love Story
John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library.
Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address.
She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared for her, it wouldn't matter what she looked like.
When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York.
"You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen.
I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured.
Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankle feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
I felt as though I was being split in two, so keen was my desire to follow the girl in the green, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own, there was only one choice for me. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate.
My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful.
I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!"
It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive.
The Grand Illusion
A Love Story
John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library.
Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address.
She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared for her, it wouldn't matter what she looked like.
When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York.
"You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen.
I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured.
Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankle feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
I felt as though I was being split in two, so keen was my desire to follow the girl in the green, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own, there was only one choice for me. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate.
My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful.
I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!"
It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive.
MysteriousRomantic
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i wish I could sleep at tnight
MysteriousRomantic
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TantaLiza said:
liza
Me too. I know I have a lot of love to give someone. Just need to find the woman *sighs*
MysteriousRomantic
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i wish i had a good nights sleep again. *sighs* very little sleep again
babycake190
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I wish my guest would leave
I wish MysteriousRomantic get a good night sleep
I wish peace and happinessfor everyone
I wish everyone wishes come true
Joey3308
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Joey3308
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jacuzzigal
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Joey3308 said:
Joey that is an adorable link.
(I know the hug wasn't for me but I had to peek!)
Darkknight2010
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... a lot of things... miss you. 
His lil secret
His lil snugglefuck
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i wish......
i could.
i could.
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