Survive before you can feel alive

English: Bronze statue of Rocky Balboa at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, created by A. Thomas Schomberg, as commissioned by Sylvester Stallone. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Had a great conversation with a friend the other night about our hierarchy of needs. We may be fighting for our lives right now. Fighting to put on a smile each day and make it all work. Fighting not to kick someone's ass (in my case it's my own ass that could use some kicking). Fighting with so much effort to stay alive that romantic emotions simply aren't there. We can't force them to be there. When I look at all the women who cross my path each day, aside from those I'm truly honored to already have there, I rarely feel that tug. You know, that tug that makes me want to know her. What's her favorite color? Where does she want to go? Who does she want to be? When she needs it to be quiet, where does she find the place to do it? But every so often, the tug reminds me with a kick in the gut that I want to stop trying to live and get back to being alive, "OMG, I can feel that she's got a story worth listening to."

With hard work (and writing), I expect and look forward to the day when self-security leads back to passionate advance, because I'd much rather spend my time thinking about new ways to love than new ways to survive.