..Just one of those..

I was talking to a friend today and in the course of the conversation, I happened to make the following comment:

"Women love men as much in their weakest moments as in their strongest"

Is that really true? I know I may sound like I am right out of a Sex and the City episode, but it sure made me think. Are we brought up in such a way that as we trudge along life, we are scared to face the ones we love in their weaker moments? Not because we can't handle them, but simply because if someone close to us feels weak, it makes us weak as well. Vulnerable. Incapable of providing help to them when they really need it.
We live with the idea that those who we look up to should always have the broadest shoulders. And if those shoulders are stretched out for a longing hug, we simply oblige. Never stopping to think for one moment that they could be indeed crying out for help.

I think it boils down to this. We, as women, would love no matter what. Be it strong, weak, happy, sad, crazy, wonderful, exotic or simple. But we don't want to think of anyone we love as being weak, because it breaks our conviction to stay strong.

Personally, I think a man who cries is the strongest of all...and I would be weak with him anyday...

"Strike One"

I looked once
I looked twice
In corners void
In silence and noise
For that perfect shape
With words of praise
In struggles strong
When all else was wrong

Till I found the hand
The hand lonely and dear
The hand far, yet near
Smeared with confidence bare
Smiling with a powerful stare
Who wanted to yell for help
A cry only heard by self

I held it once
I held it twice
Determined never to leave
Almost certain I wont grieve
Through the weathers few
With nothing to give in lieu
I watched it loosen the grip
And I knew one day it might slip

So I bought chains of gold
Gold binding yet discreet
Gold which wouldn't cheat
Tended it for weeks
With sun-kissed cherry cheeks
Kept my calm, blushed a little
Never letting it get brittle

I changed once
I changed twice
Stretching for another finger
And have feelings that linger
To be taken granted one day
But still have my say
In the same corners void
In the familiar silence and noise

Now the clock strikes again
Strikes a two
Strikes with questions true
I hold my breath, watch and wait
Wonder if it took the bait?
And will it grow for all to see
Grow old with me?