Sunday, September 9, 2018

February 5th BUY IT!



February 5th is available for purchase!

Amazon

[ Barnes and Noble COMING SOON!!}
SHARE:

Monday, September 3, 2018

A Piece of Book 2


He weaseled his way in
Every minute. Every hour
I resisted and hid away
But he picked me, Like a flower.

He coaxed me from the shadows
I blossomed through the dark
He painted a beautiful portrait
It was fate that lit the spark.

But really he's not what I want
He's really not what I need
In fact, I need a challenge
Not a man who resembled a weed. 

7/1/2018
SHARE:

Consequences

I'm parked at the cemetery. "Consequences" by Camila Cabello has been running on a loop, unintentionally, for the last fifteen minutes. Something about the words triggered a very raw, emotional reaction. It smells like coffee. My purse, my keyboard, even my hair, it all tends to hold onto the aroma long after I've left my cozy nook. 

I shit the bed. Recently, someone taught me the less-than-eloquent phrase of "shitting the bed," which is perfect in this context. I shit the bed with my choice of life partner, that part is obvious. And for a while after the paperwork was finalized, my thought process about it was skewed. In my head, that was it. I had my shot at marriage. I would never have that kind of love again. No one would ever choose me - they already did and threw me back. The idea that someone else could was unbelievable, scary, daunting, anxiety-inducing even. The loss I was having felt like a death. Until I had to actually deal with death. 

Now, I know there's a possibility that it could happen. Someone could choose me. Someones have chosen me since, and I them, as least for a moment in time. And for one reason or another, I'm sitting in this car, writing all of this down, and thinking about this song. There really are consequences to loving someone, because one way or another it's going to end. Relationships all end. Whether they end in death, argument, silence, when you invest yourself into someone else, there's a consequence to that. The harshest reality of all though is all of those people you love will eventually die, before you or after you. That permanence is heartbreaking. 

I was always scared of this happening. So much so that I was 27-years-old with tears in my eyes saying to my on-the-way-to-becoming ex-husband, "But you're the one that's supposed to be with me if something happens to Mom or Dad."

Through tears he responded, "I can't be that person. I never could have been." 

I can remember being worried about dying as a young child. I was labeled as "gifted" throughout my 2nd-grade year and most of the time that translated into "weird" or "eccentric," as most of my closest friends now describe me. And as I've learned from my gifted peers and friends, there's a healthy amount of us that struggle with worrisome thoughts, especially when it's an "unknown" or something that cannot 100% be explained with proven data or conversation. Death was one of those things for me. Sure, I've had my faith, but being presented with my brother and father in front of me with a body that doesn't "work" anymore offered up unexplainable feelings and questions.

My experiences with death and breakups are now so closely intertwined. A very compact two years left me with mountains I didn't ever wish to climb. Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined having to suit up and start the trek so young, so quickly, and feeling so extremely on my own either. I'm purposefully putting myself in front of new obstacles. They're uncomfortable and scary as well. But the good kind. They're the kind where you grow and develop and in the end you may have sweat and cried a lot, but you come out a far better person in the end. 

Has any of this deterred me from diving into new relationships - of any kind? No. Have those consequences made me second guess my vulnerability to others? No. My friends think I'm a little insane. I'm certainly more cautious than I ever have been before. I try to be smarter. But, I'm still giving people the benefit of the doubt even with the tinge of bitterness that has started to come off of my tongue.

These consequences are what scare a lot of people inside of relationships. The inevitable hurt at the end is what makes them run, or leave before being left, or worse, act like a complete asshole because the effort involved isn’t worth the inevitable-ness of it all. And that’s why I’m the insane one. I will take the hurt anyday for the moments of connection or having someone who cares on the receiving line of your life. That’s really the beauty of it all at the end of the day. That I felt so deeply about such a variety of people that when it ended, I hurt. If it wasn’t so beautiful, it wouldn’t have hurt so badly to lose them. 
SHARE:
© Grace Lynne Fleming. All rights reserved.
Blogger Templates by pipdig