Amanda Karenina
Bio
I'm nobody.
Stories (13/0)
Sunday Kind of Love
I do my Sunday dreaming, oh yeah. . .And all my Sunday scheming –Every minute, every hour, every day.Oh, I’m hoping to discover,A certain kind of lover –Who will show me the way. . .eh, would help if I knew how to be the sort of lover I claim to long for . . .
By Amanda Karenina7 years ago in Humans
Love, Loathing, and Self-Flagellation
How do you love someone so much that it hurts? When does it stop being love, and transition into longing? How do you tell someone who loved you when you weren’t ready — that you hate the waiting knowing they waited for you? How do you remain steady in your own course, when feeling remorse for the love that you lost? Was your own self-preservation worth losing the chance for love so much like your own?
By Amanda Karenina7 years ago in Humans
The Girl Who Remains
Each day, a little of our yesterday fades away. A memory blurs into a forgotten moment forever lost in the past. A lock of hair clipped away, a favorite over-worn pair of sneakers we finally discard, a hand-written letter with missing words in faded ink. We keep sentimental relics but do not always realize their significance until the devastating period of retrospect requires them to remind of us a happy once-was that we can no longer conjure in the present. Every new cycle, we transform ourselves into a new us, on each new today — though time is relative. We brace ourselves for what lies ahead in each new tomorrow. Only tomorrow seems as distant as yesterday when our sadness causes time to screech to a halt.
By Amanda Karenina7 years ago in Psyche
Child Victim of a Sexual Predator
Cue immediate shame with self-identification: I was a victim of a child molester. I was also a witness to my sister's molestation. Our experience is a shining example of how child predators often manifest as "wolves in sheep's clothing." Though we warn our kids to avoid the creepy guy in the park, or the man driving a van who's trying to show them his puppy or offering free candy, perpetrators are more likely to be trusted friends than oddball strangers.
By Amanda Karenina7 years ago in Viva
Love Triangles and Betrayal: The Tricky Triad
Love triangles. . . We don't understand the concept of a tricky triad, nor do we really comprehend the dynamics of being caught up in one, until we find ourselves stuck as a geometrical coordinate. Graphed as a third part of a whole, whether we initiate the third angle or were unknowingly reeled into it, stuck we are. Haphazardly, is often the case. Even for the dirty deed doer, the cheater, who branched out from the dyad.
By Amanda Karenina7 years ago in Humans