Men were born in the wilderness

This is a thought for a young lady who is having a tough time with her guy. She made some tough decisions and things were working out. Then one of them came back to bite her in the ass and she's trying to make up for it.

"and now even after apologizing, sending an ecard and buying organic ice cream....NOTHING worked. All my efforts to fix the problem failed...I don't get it..I don't get him..."

That is awesome that you are making a HUGE effort to make him feel better! However, I'd like to toss my small blind in there.

ice cream is great.... if you are into that kind of thing (and maybe he is), but I think there are a few things that might be a bit better. guys don't dig ecards. ecards are for girls. We have a tendency to speak to others in our own love language. If that works for me, it will work for you! lol I'd guess that this only works like 15% of the time.

Try to touch his soul. remind him, indirectly, that he is a man. he is strong. he is a force to be reckoned with. he deserves the respect of everyone (more people than just you, so don't just say that you respect him - that would be like him calling you once a week and then after you are upset, saying that he loves you).

What does he enjoy that would do that? the only thing that hits my mind is poker. I don't know him like you do, but if I were you, I'd think of something manly and rugged that he may not think of. Would he go on a hike? Would he lead you up Gray Rock? Would he like an afternoon to go fishing? Would he like something else?
Make sure you get him outside, if not out of the city. Men are at home in the wild. Women are at home in the safe and secure. That's why they like ice cream, tea, and romance novels. They are safe. Men are at home in places that are NOT safe. The felt is not a safe place. It is where we do battle. We attack each other. We try to think of every possible way to gore our adversary's intestines onto the ground. We are warriors. Men were born in the wilderness. It is what brings us to life. A woman makes this battle of ours worthwhile. She is our inspiration... and our reward.

I'm sorry that you are having a tough time. I pray that things work out. You guys are good people. I'd be sad if you were to break it.

Wow, this is good. I'm blogging it.

My small blind...

Home

This past Sunday, I had the opportunity to take what will possibly be the most beautiful hike of my life. Now, I am a man. My spirit belongs in the wild. Where nothing else can survive, I flourish.

Its a long way in from the road. The trail is demanding and narrow. Most people don't make it and fewer still come back.

After miles of trail, it disappears. Only rocks and boulders are left. I continue upward. Darkness surrounds me. My legs ache. My mind is exhausted from my regular life. I need rest. I need to be home.

As I reach the top of the scree, I am greeted by a warm sunrise. It climbs over the horizon with slow and deliberate movement. I wait. A moment for the valley to be illuminated, I wait. The cool fluid flows over my head, each droplet finding a hair to cling too. I strip off my sweat-soaked shirt and wring it out. The warm sun hugs me like a masseuse. I am almost there.

After the rope is clipped and my things are repacked, I swing around the rock and sit into my harness. As I become still, I look up at that awe-inspiring rock and stop for a second. Right at that moment, the valley lights up with grays and greens and blues, along with a gold tone over everything.

I dance over the painted rock as I descend the thousand foot face. Years of fluid stains the granite with blacks and dark greens. Soon, I am surrounded by the greenest of grass you've ever seen. I descend a little further to boulders that rest next to the lake.

The lake is a very cool deep blue. The rocks penetrate into it's depths. The surface is as smooth as glass. The silver walls are reflected perfectly off of the mirror in front of me. Most of the rocks are sharp and rough. My rock is smooth and flat. The lake is surrounded by the tallest walls, like a fortress. The walls climb into oblivion as though they are trying to touch the sky. After some nourishment, I drift off to the sweet slumber of home.