Chapter 1-There is always a breaking point.!

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Yes! Who knows—maybe today is the day I cross my boundaries.

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First, I want you to understand what a “boundary” really is. Is it a limit, a line, a set of rules, or just a “No” without a reason? Is it dignity? Can boundaries bend? If so, how far can you push past them, and under what circumstances? What would make you go beyond them—and would you even want to?

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Funny enough you mention about dignity, I’ve been loving this word lately. LOL 😊

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I honestly don’t know, but it’s fascinating that we’re talking about boundaries, because lately I’ve been thinking a lot about red flags and boundaries in the relationships—and, as usual, I’ve started noticing conversations about them with so many people.

I’ve come to realize that this is deeply personal for everyone. In my case, until a couple of years ago—as a 46-year-old woman—I didn’t even know there was such a thing as red flags…

And red flags have 100% connection with the meaning of the boundaries.

I think that life was easier before I knew what red flags and boundaries meant. When you don’t know about them, you don’t notice them—and when you don’t notice them, you don’t worry. So why care at all? To me, the real question is what counts as a red flag for each person, in any kind of relationship.

And yes, that life was much easier but was it safe, secure?

Boundaries give us confidence… and self-esteem. Or maybe they’re just outside influences that live mostly in our heads, and all we really need to do is listen to our hearts.

Think this way.

You’re with someone who has been involved sex with another person. Why take it personally? Is it a red flag for you, or a boundary or none of them? Maybe he’s struggling with something he won’t admit to himself. Or maybe he is not even aware… Or maybe, to him, having sex with another person isn’t cheating at all—it’s not a problem, and it’s not how he expresses love. So why take it personally? Is it your fault? Is having sex with someone else truly wrong, or is that just a rule? Who even put this rule and what for? Or is it simply that people can’t bear the idea—that they feel they’re sharing their man/woman which is only maybe a body?

There’s another breaking point here. If he got involved with another man, would that hurt more than if it were a woman? You know what I mean…!!

I’m not sure why, but to me sex is simply a kind of animal instinct. It’s like my dog: if he spots a coyote, a rabbit, or a cat, he can’t resist chasing it, and if he smells food, he goes straight for it. It’s pure instinct, and he has no control over it. I think emotions shut off in that state—unless that freaking emotion called as Love is involved. And if you can only be physically intimate with someone when you’re only in love, the story takes a completely different turn.

Does he feel at home with you? Does he feel safe enough to come back and hold you after giving in to a moment of weakness—while he’s struggling deeply with this foolish idea that being with someone else is cheating, and drowning in guilt? But why guilt at all? Who made that rule?

Then what does love even to mean if you can’t truly see his wounds and his weaknesses—and accept him as he is? If you can’t show him that you love him for more than just sharing a bed?

Accept him, welcome him warmly, and be willing to bend for him—that’s what will keep him from turning to someone else. Then you’ll have all of him. Imagine it: a true win-win. He’ll feel at home and safe, and so will you. That will bring more intimacy. More trust. If truly see why he came to that point you will start to understand the language of the Love.

People talk about dignity… but for me, this has nothing to do with dignity. Nothing at all. Dignity kills love—it has no place in love’s world.

For me, cheating is about intimacy—sharing ideas, deep conversations, pillow talk, songs, and longing. That would truly break my heart, because it would mean losing our connection—and losing the person I am when I’m with him. If I love who I am when I am with him. But if my man got involved with another woman just for fun, with no emotional connection at all, then let him have his fun. His body isn’t my body—as long as he uses protection 😊, because I don’t want to deal with any illness.

I faced this myself a week ago. Which was extremely difficult but let’s not talk about it, not because I care but because I don’t want to do a mistake I have done before.

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The man I’ve been in a long-distance relationship with for almost 15 months made it clear since almost beginning that he truly loves me, and he was wonderful to me in so many ways. Yet he got close to a couple of other women. He didn’t share a bed with them according to him. But he shared our songs that I love them, talked with them on the phone, cared about their trips and even about cleaning their homes, complimented them, and tried to take one of them out for a birthday dinner just make her feel that she is special. Also, pictures….!!!! He had even come close to sharing his home with one of them. He had prepared one of them a Christmas gift—the exact same one that he made it for me.

When I came across his conversations with these two women, OMG… it broke my heart so deeply. It felt like he had pushed me off from the top of a very high building onto sharp rocks, shattering every bone.

Deep inside my heart there was this precious green crystal—paper-thin and impossibly fragile—that I had been protecting with all my power with everything I had. This very shinny, very precious crystal which I had found it again, after my last relationship. I gathered it up, cleaned it, carefully glued each piece back in place, reshaped it, and brought it back to life until it shone again.

And he had simply sliced my heart open with a very sharp blade, reached inside where my green precious crystal is, seized and lifted it out and thrown it on the concrete floor without caring, crushing it into tiny pieces that stabbed my heart and left it almost impossible to put back together. It felt like my heart had been torn apart. And yes…! I WAS CRUSHED….!!!!

Seeing him share things that meant so much to me with someone else made me feel that he didn’t really care about me—that the attention he gave me was something he could just as easily give to anyone. I kept asking myself: Then what makes me special to him? What I meant for him? Is he lying to me when he says he loves me? I thought we give same meaning more and less in the relationship where we miles away from each other. Intimacy… Connection… Care... Knowing each other that what makes them to keep going the relationship... How so he can give the same thing that he is giving to me has meaning and he knows that?

Wasn’t I there while he was trying to heal from her? Wasn’t I the one listening when he spoke about the pain she had left behind? Even if I helped only a little, didn’t I try? I tried to understand his wounds. I tried to help him heal them, all while carrying wounds of my own. Night after night, I gave him my time, my presence, and my ears. I listened because I wanted him to feel heard. I stayed because I wanted him to know that he did not have to carry his pain alone.

Was none of it meaningful to him? All those nights, all that listening, all the effort I poured into simply being there, I did it from my heart. Something inside me kept drawing me toward him, even when I didn’t understand why. I wanted nothing in return. I wasn’t asking for promises or expecting him to give me anything. I only wanted the wounded part of him to hear what I had been trying to say all along: “You don’t have to be afraid here. You are safe with me.”

Then after those two women… I started to change.

Why am I even pouring my time, my energy, my heart, and my feelings into this—my mornings, my nights, every moment, every freaking second? I wake up with him and fall asleep with him, a man I’ve never even met, yet feel so deeply connected to. Was I needy, insecure as he describes me…?

Deep down, I hadn’t realized I was already in love with him. That freaking love had found me again—and it was knocking at my door. Smiling at me again with those innocent yet devilish eyes, it whispered, “Hi, I’m back. Please let me in.”

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And there I was, thinking about dignity—lol.

I was trying to ignore that innocent part of eyes of this freaking LOVE… The eyes of the love he brought to life with a breath of his soul.

Love has no limits, of course—but the brain does, and being torn between the two is painful. The brain clings to what it has learned and what the world has taught it, while the heart keeps insisting that you want him.

I couldn’t move past the idea of cheating, even though he kept insisting he hadn’t cheated on me with anyone—because to him, cheating meant something purely physical, while to me, the physical without love means almost nothing. He couldn’t see my side, and I couldn’t see his… and that became a major breaking point.

I also didn’t realize—even though he’d been completely honest with me from the start—that he runs on attention. I don’t know why, but if I pull back, go a day without talking to him, or he senses any distance, boom! He becomes weak, starts looking around, and gets easily caught up with another woman if he catches the attention. And why? Yet he’s always talking about connection and attachment.

And of course, he sees himself as an attractive man who can win over anyone he wants. (OMG!!! Hearing him say that broke my heart as well.)

Tell me J, how is that possible? You say you feel a deep connection, yet the moment you’re not getting attention, you start looking around. What does that even mean?

Is it fair to make someone believe you share a real connection, then start looking elsewhere the moment she stops giving you attention? Maybe she’s struggling with something, and you never had a deep enough conversation to understand it. Instead, you call her impulsive… but isn’t rushing off to find someone else just as impulsive?

This fascinates me, too, because it means he needs something—I just don’t/didn’t know what, what was it? Or maybe he simply can’t stand being alone, even for a day. He wants to be the center of attention. I think it goes back to his childhood: he’s the only boy in his family, with three sisters, so he probably got a lot of attention as a kid. He’s also good-looking—oh well, he’s seriously hot, a super attractive man. He’s financially independent and strong. And he’s more than just his looks: he has his own hobbies, he loves music, he loves his records, he’s very smart and productive, he loves football (Soccer I mean😊), he’s a giver, he is a father of two brilliant kids, and he’s full of energy, passionate, and fun. He really is something. I also sense that, at some point, he went through a deep trauma I don’t know about. But he’s the man I loved so much, so deep, so freaking deep. He somehow made his own space in that green crystal that he has crushed.

So, he and I was keep arguing… all because I believed he’d been talking with two other women and sharing things with them. On top of that, I was still carrying wounds from a past relationship in which I had lost myself without even realizing it. I was simply trying to protect what I was afraid of losing: my identity, my self-respect, my boundaries 😊 my dignity, my crystal, my heart. Red flags…!!! Fear..!

Honestly, whenever I was alone—walking my dog or meditating—I could truly feel my heart breaking at the thought that I wasn’t special so to him.

So, I pulled back to protect myself and give myself time to gather the pieces of my broken crystal, wrap them in cotton, and stop the bleeding first. In my mind, if I could rebuild it and make it shine again, it would help both of us: I would get my joy back, and we could return to the days we once shared at the beginning. I was hurting so badly—the broken pieces kept piercing my heart, and the pain was running so deep.

I was literally bleeding, on the verge of dying. My joy had vanished, and my sense of self was gone. He had crossed the lines that mattered most to me.

I didn’t want to repeat the mistakes that had hurt me so bad in my last relationship—not recognizing red flags, not knowing my boundaries, and not knowing who I was. So, I kept reminding myself that I needed to love myself more.  I needed to respect myself. I needed to protect my precious heart; I should not let anyone to destroy and crushed that green crystal in it.

At the same time, every moment I wasn’t talking to him, my heart ached even more. To be honest, I was so torn between my head and my heart that I couldn’t break free from the fight between them. Literally I could not snap out from that circle, darkness that lately turned to something lighter. Freedom! Freedom from fear.!!

And of course, there was another reason: we had never met in person. We met online, and everything between us had happened over the phone. It was like fantasy that played a big part in keeping me stuck in that cycle. In the end, you realize that being together and talking face to face is completely different from communicating through a screen.

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But even though I was struggling with all by myself, still I went to see him—after he helped me get a visa (yes, it's another country), a FIFA ticket, and even my plane ticket.

I know it sounds crazy—but then, who said I was an ordinary woman? To me, love has no limits… my love reaches beyond the stars! I know that scares him, when really, he should just appreciate it and enjoy it.

That’s what kept me caught up in this mystical game: I care about you and I invest in you, come here, let me show you who I am, let me love you, spoil you, care you but don’t expect me to be predictable. Whatever risk comes with that is yours to take.

Why did I go? The answer is simple: mystery… Ours was absolutely a mystical relationship, a game, a fantasy that connected us very deeply even though we didn’t really know each other in any way. Even though we did not actually realize how deep we are for each other.

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And what was it liking the first time I saw him?

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Honestly, I was stunned—by how handsome he was, how incredibly hot, and how fast my heart was racing. OMG! I’ll never forget that moment.

He was waiting for me at the airport and suddenly appeared right in front of me as I was heading to baggage claim.

He was shorter than I expected—something I once thought would so much matter, since I’m such a visual person—but it meant nothing. One world…He was excellent.

He was as excited as I was. He kissed me softly, right beside my lips, carried my bags, and led me to his car, where red roses were waiting. Such a gentleman 😊 My Benito 😊

The drive to his home took almost an hour. Neither of us knew what to say. He held my hand the whole way in his little antique Mercedes convertible—shiny blue, and just as shiny as he was.

He told me I was exactly as he had dreamed—only my voice was different, and even more beautiful.

We talked a little, softly, and laughed, trying to calm our excitement. We both knew we couldn’t wait to get home and finally be alone together—but the traffic and road construction weren’t helping 😊

Then, at last, we were home…

As soon as we enter from the door of his little apartment, he hugged me, and I finally met his scent. He smelled just as good as he’d always told me over the phone ever more—a fresh scent that touched my heart and whispered something I couldn’t quite hear or understand yet. It carried me somewhere unknown, completely new and different, caught between fear and excitement. He was taking me to the ocean a vast blue ocean full of the unknown…Deeply mystical, frightening, and breathtakingly beautiful—a stunning ocean glittering under the sun.

Then he kissed me, and I finally tasted his lips—soft, just as he’d always told me. Even softer. He kissed me gently, carrying me somewhere both familiar and unfamiliar, from the known into the unknown. He kissed my neck, my face, my lips, my shoulders, his white beard brushing against my skin. I felt every kiss deeply, wherever his lips touched, as if my blood didn’t know where to run. It felt like stepping into that ocean slowly, the water beneath my feet mixed with grains of sand. The water was cold, yet somehow, I didn’t feel the chill.

He was taking my clothes off and there was such tenderness in the way he treated me, as though I were something fragile he was determined not to hurt. His gaze lingered on me with quiet admiration, noticing every small detail, every tattoo and every story etched into my skin. I was going slowly towards to the ocean.

Then he made me lie down on his dining table, that glass table, holding a memory that only the two of us could truly understand, how fragile beneath us. It was delicate, easily capable of breaking with an external impact. Just like me. Just like us.

OMG…! What is this feeling, and how is it different from what I felt before? Why do I feel the complete opposite now? Instead, I feel joy—pure pleasure. As I run into the water, I experience it as if for the first time.

Billy Joel - My Life (Official Video)

He was making love with me with a pure heart, never taking his eyes from mine. His gaze seemed to carry a quiet message, something I could feel but could not yet understand. It was as though his eyes were speaking directly to my soul. For the first time in my life, I felt truly seen in such an intimate moment.

He was leaning on me with his all body, going so deep whispered softly in my ear, telling me how irresistible, tasty I was, never realizing that, to me, he was even more irresistible tastier than I am.

Then he drew back, but the night was not finished with us yet. I could tell he wasn’t ready for the moment to end. He wanted more time with me, more laughter, more closeness, he wanted still to linger. He wanted to stay inside that little world which we had just created, where nothing existed beyond the two of us.

Then he led me to the couch, took me on top of him, he covered my eyes with my shirt and left me only with the moment itself, he wanted me to forget everything out of our world, and simply feel, feel the moment, feel what right there we are creating. And yes, without sight, slowly, the rest of the world faded, shut away, everything felt different, extremely deeper somehow. I lost myself in that closeness, in his body, his kisses, his love, his way of making love, his heart, and boundary between him and me disappear, and just for a little while, it felt as though there was no longer him and me, only us in that strange and beautiful feeling of two people becoming one.

Now, I was inside the ocean swimming naked gripped by fear, feeling the water on every inch of my skin.

Then ocean started to speak to me:

Hey!

“I know I am beautiful—an amazing creation of the Almighty—and I can give you great joy if you know how to swim. But remember, I am unpredictable, powerful, and full of surprises, and the weather shapes me deeply that we work together.

When the sky is clear and the sun is shining, even the simplest warmth can bring an extraordinary sense of pleasure. The sunlight touches your skin without burning it, while a gentle breeze brushes softly against you, as though carrying the sun’s light beneath your skin and into your blood until you feel as though the light itself is flowing through you.

But when the sky is angry, I am no longer the gentle ocean even the appearance of the sun cannot calm me. The wind rises, the rain begins to fall, and together they awaken a storm within me, and that storm awakens something wild within me. I rise into a tremendous wave and powerful enough to pull you farther and farther into my depths. The same waters that once carried you softly can suddenly become dangerous enough to take your life.

And when it is foggy... oh, the fog. You do not want to experience me in the fog. Believe me, it is worse than the storm, worse even than being pulled into my deepest waters. Because when the fog settles over me, it can make you feel as though you have entered purgatory. You no longer belong anywhere. You no longer know where you are, where you came from, or where you are going. You begin to wonder whether you are still alive or whether you have already died. You are simply there, suspended somewhere in between.

Are you ready?

Then he gently leaned me back against the couch, and everything between us became softer and more tender. Neither of us seemed capable of pulling away from the other.

He looked deeply into my eyes, as though he wanted to reach somewhere beyond my heart, somewhere far deeper, where the most precious part of me, my crystal had once shattered and left an emptiness behind. And somehow, without even knowing it, he reached that wounded place and put something new there, something warm and alive where the broken pieces had once been. Then he leaned closer and whispered the words that reached the deepest part of me: “You are the one.”

And my tears began to fall from my eyes.

And I looked at his eyes where I see the ocean and answered, “Yes, I am.”

Because suddenly, I understood something I had not understood before. Through its sunlight, its storms, its depths, and even its fog, even if death that this ocean was my home

Lucifer S1-5 Official Soundtrack | All Along the Watchtower (feat. Tom Ellis) | WaterTower

Oh, My Benito 😊

And then I realized that he had never been leading me toward the ocean. He had been giving me my wings back, reminding me that I could fly again. But this time, I would not have to fly alone. This time, we could rise together, beyond the sky and toward the stars. And suddenly I understood: it had never really been the ocean speaking to me. It was the our angels from our stars where went to visit together while making love with our souls all along, sending their message from somewhere far away, using the ocean as their messenger.

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This was everything she had shared in her nightly conversation with her guide, just before she fell asleep.