Michael Caine & Bianca Jagger in the late 1960s
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Michael Caine & Bianca Jagger in the late 1960s

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LOVES
In the beginning there was him then there was me. I wish I had more proof but the bastard broke my heart so I had no choice but to destroy all the evidence. Destroy all the good and all the bad, destroy the evidence of the love we once had.
Then there was him and he was sweet, a perfect gentlemen you would think. He brought me flowers and introduced me to a whole new world, built my confidence only to stomp on it. He was mean, insulted me at every opportunity, suffocated me til I had no choice but to walk away. Again! I destroyed all the evidence, he represented toxicity and I was glad to be rid of it. To move on all by myself felt so right, I only wished I could have done it sooner. With him I was lost, I stooped so low to make him feel so high and when I got a taste of freedom, I wanted to turn around and wreck the cage he kept me in. I had been a prisoner for far too long, and freedom looked so good on me.
And then there was him, and he was sweet. A catch by all means. He wrote songs for me, serenaded me, made me smile and laugh with only his words. Quickly I fell in love with the romance, with the relationship we shared but falling in love with the relationship was just that. So when it came time to flip the page, to finish the chapter it pained me to let go of something so innocent, so good and so kind but it would have been so selfish for me to hold on to something that didn’t belong to me. Love was not in the right place.
Then there was HIM and he treated me like queen. My dreams could not be too big or too small. He loved every portion of me and reminded me how I could do the same. He nurtured the love we built. Taught me to be independent and dependent all at the same time. He made me feel like I could have the best of all worlds not because I was entitled but because I was worthy. He held me so close and so far, close enough to guide but far enough to watch me fly. He knew me and I had no doubts.
The heart meets a lot of LOVES along the way.
Delia Luna
Michael Caine and Natalie Wood, c.1966
Memories of old (not that old nyc) the Lincoln Plaza Cinemas. I Saw many movies here, I didn’t like all the movies here but back then it wasn’t about the movies but Who I saw them with. #oldloves #movies #lincolnplazacinema #lincolnplazacinemas #lincolnplaza #nyc #oldnewyork #pastlovers (at Manhattan, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/B8xYY1ohFGv/?igshid=lyzegimm8bhh
A couple of 3's.
Knew you before I knew you
Holding hands in the sand spinning around and around and around as our inner child laughed
Jumped in too soon before we could be two whole persons again
Building from scratch on a broken foundation broke us so fast
Two burrdened broken hearts lost in translation
You brought my creative child out to play for the rest of my life
Just a couple of 3's
We sang the songs of love and drank the spirits to our souls
I lost you to your mind. Oh your beautiful mind
Those days were dark visiting you on a sterilized psychiatric floor
That's when our loveship became a friendship till the end
And when it did end inevitably, it ended with grace
And then a lustful last goodbye
Lustful intimacy that brought us closure to say goodbye one last time for the next 30 days
Disolving that year and a half together we made sense of all that was nonsensical
I had to learn on my own,by myself. You weren't the one to show me myself
Everlasting connection like our phones to our brains. I know when you hurt. I see it on the screens
I feel it in my chest and then you reach out through your phone
You will always be lost in your endless theoretical thoughts
Blink your eyes goodbye I'll be gone sailing away over mountians
Goodbye dear friend,
I love you always,
Goodnight.

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your name. is way too often still on my tounge. I thought I saw you. I fought my way to the front of the crowd. Only to sadly look into a stranger’s eyes. Wonder if they knew.
She don’t know my name only know my initials ... #nyc #oldloves #barebones #purdycity #brightlights #nostars (at Times Square, New York City)
The truth; littlest of loves
The truth my little love bug? Well, there is no other truth...