I wanna write!

I hate being so busy that I can't write! I hate that there seems to be far too few hours in my day to accomplish all that must be done! I despise that all my deep thoughts are forced to share time with laundry, grocery shopping, house cleaning, bill paying, dropping off kids, picking up sick kids, calling and waiting on hold for child support services, standing in line at the DMV, cooking, homework, study and driving in rush hour traffic. Oh sure I get on Facebook, but Facebook requires little or no thought. To post some random bit of nonsense that pops into my head, or to click through at 4 per second, the pics your friends posted of the party you weren't invited to is effortless. I love keeping up with friends and sharing pieces of my life with them but what really satisfies me is writing.

I love writing about the things that wrap themselves around my bones and hold me captive till I've purged them through the written word. I've got a subject I've been wanting to write for some years and now is when I really need to write it. To write it tho I need solitude. No interruptions! So when will I find, no, make the time to do so? I don't know? Until that time arrives when I've vested all my enemies and have freed myself from responsibility or at least stolen freedom temporarily, I'll write a rant about not writing.

Just Say Yes

They stood at the door poised to walk inside, when suddenly he stopped. Standing still with his back to her he took a deep breath in and slowly turned to face her. Trembling, he reached for her hand and whispered, “Do you trust me?” With her palm gently upon his cheek she replied, “You know I do.” From his pocket he pulled a white silk scarf, carefully folded it and tied it around her eyes. Her heart beat quickened as memories of his words of desire began to flood her mind. She felt warm as her cheeks became flush and his lips softly touched hers.

He led her by the hand through the open door. As the door shut behind her the scent of vanilla filled the still air. A melody played so quietly that she was unsure if it was only in her mind or from some distant place. It had reminded her of the beautiful breezy spring day in which they had first met. The kind eyes and gentle voice made her feel safe and at peace. Fear had always kept her at somewhat of a distance. Broken hearts were hard to mend and she was sure she’d not survive it again. But like a moth to the flame she could not help but fall helplessly in love with him, even though all logic said it would never work and her scars whispered words of pain, regret and sorrow. She’d been more than happy the past year and was grateful for the love she felt but she knew he wanted more and could feel that his love for her had overcome him.

Feeling breathless her hand slowly fell from his fingers. With his hands upon her waist he leaned into her and said, “I’m running out of ways to make you see. I want you to stay here beside. I won’t be okay and I won’t pretend I am. So just tell me today and…” He paused for a moment and sighed. “Take my hand. Please take my hand.”

Pulling the scarf from her eyes they grew wide with amazement and aw. The room was lit by candles tracing the room like a star filled sky and rose petals carpeted the floor. He moved to his left slightly revealing a giant red gift wrapped box with a silver bow. “Open it”, was his gentle request. Without a word she stepped forward and pulled the bow toped lid off to find another box inside, and then another, and then yet another. Finlay, she held a red velvet jewelry box upon her hand. Afraid to open it she found her mind spinning with a silly girls’ fairy tale dreams. Tears began to fall from her eyes. Gently he brushed them from her face and said, “Just say, ‘Yes’. Just say there’s nothing holding you back. It’s not a test, nor a trick of the mind, only love. It’s so simple and you know it is, you know it is. We can’t be to and fro like this all our lives. You’re the only way to me the path is clear. What do I have to say to you, for God’s sake dear?”

She slowly opened the box to find the most beautiful symbol of love she’d ever seen. He had crafted it himself and engraved the words, “Happily Ever After” inside it. With tears she could not control she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. “Just say, ‘Yes’” he pleaded again. “Because I’m aching and I know you are too, for the touch of your warm skin as I breathe you in.” She could only hold him tight, as she felt his heart beat through his shirt. With all the strength she could muster, softly she spoke, “This was all I wanted, all I want. It’s all I want. It’s all I want…. Yes.”

New Story

Everyone tells a story of who they are. A story of who they think themselves to be. As a young child parents tell our story for us. When I became old enough to tell my own story I told a story of a girl who was afraid, insecure, intensely emotional but happy. When I first got married I lost the parts about fear and most of the insecurity. However, over the years, even though reality changed my story wasn't being altered much. Few if any really heard the chapters about the silent hell I was living, in fact much of the time I didn't tell it to myself. I was telling a fabulous story about a beautiful family that was content and happy and a woman who possessed inner joy. So when the time came to face reality head on no one was prepared for it, especially me. The story I was now telling was so much different than the one before and many were not interested in hearing it while others thought it a piece of fiction. Perhaps that only made me feel the need to tell it over and over again till I would find enough people to listen to it, to believe it, help me make sense of it and change it. That story became like a broken record. It played over and over again in my mind. The story was about a helpless, pitiable, victim that was in need of saving. In an attempt to change my story I started to tell a story of martyrdom. But basically the theme was really the same as it always had been. It wasn't until my closest and dearest friend kindly pointed that out to me, that I realized that I really needed to write a new story of who and what I am now. I'm incredibly grateful to her for that because now I'm telling a new story. It's got humor, intrigue,drama, plot twists, action and adventure; but mostly it's a 'feel good' story. Oh my story will have some heartache and a few tears in them too but I hope that all my friends and family who love me will be able to perceive the differences and appreciate this new story. Quite honestly I hope they'll help me write it. Because without them, there really isn't much of a story.

Dream Chaser

Funny thing about dreams. We sorta need the dream state to get our recouping powers but what I'm finding as of late is that sometimes those dreams leave me feeling heavy and disapointed, making it more of a challange to make the best of reality. I'm working so hard to make a new life for myself, but when I wake from a perfect fantasy it makes the goal seem like a frayed piece of patchwork.