Sunday, 6 November 2011

Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?

It’s awful to lose the one you love, particularly if he is everything to you. Life seems empty without him so it's just normal that you'd want him back. Furthermore, you’d naturally ask, “How do I win him back without fail?” as failing to get your ex back will just cause more pain and less self-esteem. Here are some useful tips to guarantee your success.

Make sure first that he’s worth winning back before you ask, “How do I win him back”? Though there are a lot of reasons why couples should go on with their relationship, there are good reasons to let the relationship die, as well. Before you try winning him back, assess first whether the relationship is worth fighting for.

If you're thinking “How do I win him back after I've done something terribly wrong?”, remember that men are more forgiving and can forget a fault more easily compared with girls. But if you never seem to learn and continue committing the same mistake repeatedly, they can get disappointed. Before trying to win him back, try to realize what it is that he dislikes about you and find means so you won't make the same mistake again. If you work things out yourself and start a change for the better, he will be glad about it.

Now, if you ask, “How do I win him back when someone's trying to steal him away”, it can really get complicated. First, you mustn't be fighting over a guy.

If it's just someone attempting to take your boyfriend away but he isn’t biting, simply leave it alone and confront the enemy together if she's getting too exasperating. On the other hand, the best thing to do is to let your boyfriend go if he falls victim. He will see that his actions could lose him the girl he truly loves, otherwise, he will truly fall in love with someone new. It’s better for you to have no guy who gets taken away that easily, either way.

There are some girls who have problems, such as “How do I win him back after he got tired of pursuing me?”. This comes to pass when a girl breaks up with a guy, then the guy pursues the girl until he is exhausted and stops trying, that's when the girl figures out that she still loves him. This is an extremely difficult problem and should’ve been avoided at the get go. The only way out of the problem is just to be direct. Tell him your real feelings and hopefully, he still wants the two of you to get back together. As our modern society, finds it awkward sometimes when it's the girl pursuing the guy, when trying this, each girl must consider, “How do I win him back without being too obvious?”.

Your actions might turn your ex off if he is a little conservative in terms of relationships. Just take things slowly, be prudent, and be frank when necessary. It takes ingenuity to win a guy back but doing it through mind games is also harmful.

About the Author

If you found this helpful and you'd like to learn more, also check out date with an ex girlfriend on the website www.gettingbacktogether.com.

7 comments:

  1. Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?


    When it seems like there's no one left to run to in this empty world you can come ... All our lives we search for someone to love, someone to make us complete. .... And maybe every once in awhile she cuts loose and does things that would blow ...

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  2. Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?

    Throughout life you will meet one person who is unlike any other. ... the world has stopped and your life seems perfect, make sure you never lose that person. ..... people who love you and want you happy... without you their life would be empty. ...

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  3. Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?

    When you love someone . . . you take them into your heart, and?that is ... when we lose someone we love, because we lose?a part of ourselves." ... to give love because we fear pain or loss, then our lives will be empty, our loss greater." ... What seems to grow fairer to me as life goes by is the love and the ...
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    Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?
    If someone you love hurts you cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it. ... It feels like every other part of my body is broken too. ... you have truly loved, and you will never understand what pain really is until you have lost it. ... Trouble is a part of life, and if you don't share it, you don't give the person who loves you enough ...

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  4. Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?

    Kiu k Insan Jiss Say Piyar Karta Hai Iss Ki Zaat May Khud ko Orr Apni Zaat May Iss ko Mahsos Karta Hai Woh hotta Hai to Sab ACHA lAGTTA hAI aGAR wOH nAHI hOTTA tO lOVE lIFE iSS KO sAB kUCH kHALI nAZAR aTTA hAI its Mean lose the one you love Life seems empty............

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  5. Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?
    How to Love Bats
    By Judith Beveridge Judith Beveridge
    Begin in a cave.
    Listen to the floor boil with rodents, insects.
    Weep for the pups that have fallen. Later,
    you’ll fly the narrow passages of those bones,
    but for now –
    open your mouth, out will fly names
    like Pipistrelle, Desmodus, Tadarida. Then,
    listen for a frequency
    lower than the seep of water, higher
    than an ice planet hibernating
    beyond a glacier of Time.

    Visit op shops. Hide in their closets.
    Breathe in the scales and dust
    of clothes left hanging. To the underwear
    and to the crumbled black silks – well,
    give them your imagination
    and plenty of line, also a night of gentle wind.

    By now your fingers should have been dreaming
    each night of anthers and of giving
    to their furred beauty
    your nectar-loving tongue. But also,
    your tongue should have been practising the cold
    of a slippery, frog-filled pond.

    Go down on your elbows and knees.
    You’ll need a spieliologist’s desire for rebirth
    and a miner’s paranoia of gases —
    but try to find within yourself
    the scent of a bat-loving flower.

    Read books on pogroms. Never trust an owl.
    Its face is the biography of propaganda.
    Never trust a hawk. See its solutions
    in the fur and bones of regurgitated pellets.

    And have you considered the smoke
    yet from a moving train? You can start
    half an hour before sunset,
    but make sure the journey is long, uninterrupted
    and that you never discover
    the faces of those Trans-Siberian exiles.

    Spend time in the fold of curtains.
    Seek out boarding-school cloakrooms.
    Practise the gymnastics of web umbrellas.

    Are you
    floating, yet, thought-light,
    without a keel on your breastbone?
    Then, meditate on your bones as piccolos,
    on mastering the thermals
    beyond the tremolo; reverberations
    beyond the lexical.

    Become adept
    at describing the spectacles of the echo —
    but don’t watch dark clouds
    passing across the moon. This may lead you
    to fetishes and cults that worship false gods
    by lapping up bowls of blood from a tomb.

    Practise echo-locating aerodromes,
    stamens. Send out rippling octaves
    into the fossils of dark caves —
    then edit these soundtracks
    with a metronome of dripping rocks, heartbeats
    and with a continuous, high-scaled wondering
    about the evolution of your own mind.

    But look, I must tell you — these instructions
    are no manual. Months of practice
    may still only win you appreciation
    of the acoustical moth.,
    hatred of the hawk and owl. You may need

    to observe further the floating black host
    through the hills.

    Judith Beveridge, "How to Love Bats" text from Accidental Grace, University of Queensland Press, 1996,; audio from Cut By Stars, Audio CD, 2007: by permission of River Road Press and the poet. Copyright © 2003, 2007 by Judith Beveridge.

    Source: Storm and Honey (Giramondo, 2009)

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  6. Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?
    First Love
    By Jan Owen Jan Owen

    (Titan’s Young Englishman with a Glove, circa 1530)
    It happened in Physics,
    reading a Library art book under the desk,
    (the lesson was Archimedes I recall)
    I turned a page and fell
    for an older man, and anonymous at that,
    hardly ideal—
    he was four hundred and forty five,
    I was fourteen.
    “Eureka!” streaked each thought
    (I prayed no-one would hear)
    and Paradise all term
    was page 179
    (I prayed no-one would guess).
    Of course
    my fingers, sticky with toffee and bliss
    failed to entice him from his century;
    his cool grey stare
    fastened me firmly in mine.
    I got six overdues,
    suspension of borrowing rights
    and a D in Physics
    but had by heart what Archimedes proves.
    Ten years later I married:
    a European with cool grey eyes,
    a moustache,
    pigskin gloves.

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  7. Why lose the one you love Life seems empty?
    The Age of Aquarius
    By Fay Zwicky Fay Zwicky
    She slumps in the disabled bay
    clutching a waffle-cotton gown
    around a spreading paunch,
    shambling breasts.
    Why not say ‘I’?
    For that’s who sits at 6 a.m.
    waiting for the health club
    pool to open in the rain.
    A grown woman, after all,
    supposed to know her whereabouts.

    Today’s my mother’s birthday,
    a 1907 Aquarian of the self-
    denying kind, ‘never say “ I”’ her motto.
    She had me nailed for years. Her voice
    drowns out the radio’s chattering static.
    Now I’m the same age she was, dying,
    observing noble savagery:

    a gathering knot of skinny women,
    tight black butts in leotards,
    regulation sneakers. Brazil-waxed calves,
    gripping i-pods, mobiles, water bottles.
    The men stand back, silent, sullen,
    balding, bored and out of it. Health stalkers,
    renouncers of smoke and flame,
    deniers of brimstone.
    One hell of a century:
    between the holocaust and the atom bomb
    who are these people?

    Between the deep and the shallow end,
    never say thank you or good morning.
    Avoid eye contact.
    Signals may be misinterpreted.
    Slow Lane, Fast Lane, Walking Lane
    Only’s where I’m at.
    The moving parts count laps:
    twenty five’s a half-hour’s worth.
    I sing myself a rumba to keep rhythm;
    the Speedo wall clock ticks a strict 4/4
    defeats my ruse while dove’s feet skitter
    arrow-wise across the perspex roof.
    No Diving Running Eating Smiling
    Share if lanes are busy.
    Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

    The waiting crowd are all, like me,
    up early talking or silent,
    more vivacious than galahs,
    more foolish than parrots.

    We stand and wait, walk up and down
    in the rain talking or not, holding
    in sagging muscle, spreading paunch,
    talking about things that must matter.
    So much seems to hang on
    getting in that door.

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