Thoughts and Ponderings...

I get very little time to simply ponder Life's great scheme. Between work and school, my thoughts are often focused elsewhere. Tonight, I got home from work and my brain was begging me to skip reading for my History or Philosophy classes. I turned on Netflix...couldn't find anything to hold my interest. I surfed the net...nothing there. So, I opened a Word doc and began to type. I got on a roll and searched Pinterest for some writing prompts.

I'm a big believer in the Butterfly Effect. If you're not familiar with the concept, it goes something like this: A butterfly flutters it's wings on one side of the Earth and that flutter causes an effect here. If you could walk a mile in my shoes, you'd understand why I believe in this. I would be a much different person if I had taken a left instead of that right at Albuquerque (yes, I reference Looney Toons). I wouldn't be the woman I am now if it hadn't been for the people I've met along my journey.

Write about the most beautiful smile you've seen: 

It lights up the darkest day. It’s slow and easy. It comes all at once. His full lips pull back, the corners of his mouth making beautiful creases. The kind of creases that make a woman’s heart flutter and her breath catch. The smile reaches his amazing bourbon colored eyes, making them dance with mischief. In one swift move, that smile can go from friendly and easygoing to predatory and sexy. It should require a conceal and carry permit for him to have a smile like that. It is more dangerous than any gun can be. This is the kind of smile that makes a woman’s silky flowered boyshorts drop at less than 20 paces.  It is charming and charismatic. It makes her heart skip a beat…or five. It reassures her that all is right in the world. It brings a smile to her face simply with a flash of those pearly whites. It also tells her just how much he desires her hands on him and how he can hardly wait to get her alone. It is the most beautiful and dangerous thing that man can give her. He never hesitates to give her a smile to carry with her throughout her entire day. “Lethal beauty” is the best way to describe the smile that brightens every corner of her world. That smile is her everything.

From what I've been told, this piece requires a tissue or two. It has been said that I need to warn you beforehand. Consider this your fair warning.

Write about a white dress:

The color of snow falling on a moonlit night, her dress sparkled in the twinkling lights. It had been specially chosen for this occasion. She had spent hours searching for the perfection that embodied this dress. She was absolutely certain of that perfection as she stepped into the silk and lace confection. It slid across her skin without snagging and fit her like a glove. The crispness of the color felt as cool to the touch as the icicles hanging from the storefront’s signage. When the sales clerk had slid it into the bag for her to carry home, a smile crossed her pink lips.

She hung it on her closet door, kicked off her shoes, and poured herself a glass of whiskey, then settled in to admire her purchase. So many thoughts danced through her head as the candlelight in her bedroom played with the sheen of the dress. She curled up in a ball at the foot of her bed, pulling her cashmere blanket around her. Tears pooled in her eyes and fell silently onto the arm she had under her head.

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful. The sunlight sparkled on the freshly fallen snow as she prepared herself for her day. Her hair and make-up must be perfect. Her body was lotioned and scented with the musky patchouli scent everyone associated with her. She decided to let her hair fall softly on her shoulders instead of putting it up like she usually did. At the last moment, she stepped into her white dress and poofed the skirt in the mirror, twirling slightly as she used to do as a child. She slipped her feet into her wedges and admired herself in the mirror. Sunlight bounced off the ring she wore on her left hand, creating a rainbow of color as she stood there. She chose a red rose from the vase of flowers that sat on her dining room table as she walked out the door.

The church was packed with people when she arrived. She checked her make-up one last time before she climbed out of her car, red rose clutched in her hand. She smiled up at the sunshine as she climbed the steps into the church. She took a deep breath and opened the massive oak doors. The foyer smelled of candle wax and furniture polish. She hung her coat on the rack outside the sanctuary. The ushers nodded to her as they opened the door. Music she had chosen specifically for this day played as she walked down the aisle. Whispers were murmured as she passed. Heads nodded. She kept her head held high as she walked on to where he waited for her.

When she reached him, she bent slightly to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry I took so long, but I wanted to look perfect for you. I promised you the next time we were in a church that I’d wear a white dress. I just thought I’d be saying “I do” instead of “Goodbye.” She laid the red rose in his cold hands, wiped a tear from her eye, and took her seat. 

Please feel free to share your thoughts. My muse is teasing me and allowing my writing to become stronger...at least, I think so. 

Trusting My Gut...

I had someone I trusted implicitly once tell me I shouldn't trust my gut. He told me that my gut was always wrong. And I, like a fool, believed him. While he meant that I shouldn't trust it in certain areas, I, being the all or nothing girl I am, took it to the ultimate degree. I stopped trusting myself when it came to people, falling in love, my life choices, and my writing.

I've been back in school for a bit over a week now. Let me tell you something amazing: by trusting my own gut, I'm discovering that I'm going to be okay. My math skills aren't exactly perfect, but I'm doing better than I imagined. When the professor writes problems on the board, I know what he's talking about. I'm actually able to help others! It's incredible! For me, the biggest step was raising my hand to answer a question! Omg! I was so proud of myself! The guy sitting next to me, made me laugh when he said "Mhmm, you go girl."

Even my writing is coming back. Slowly. I've been working on little writing prompts I find. This is one I wrote a while ago:

She Wanted Me to Break It...

She wanted me to break it…her heart that is. Hell, she expected me to. From the first day I had said “hello,” the beautiful woman expected the worst. Not because of me per se, but because that is what every man before me had done…broke her heart.

One look in those hazel green eyes of hers and I was lost. I had no intention of breaking her heart, her spirit, or anything else. Instead, I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and give her a safe place to call home.

Tears came to her eyes too easily and that made me believe she was fragile and broken. I vowed to be her defender and friend. Her heart was a mess. Her life was a disaster. But there was something about her. Something that made me want to stand beside her.

For two years, I was the man standing there, holding her hand, supporting her. She told me I was the reason for her smile. That I was the reason her world would spin continuously. But I was a fool.

I left her alone when she needed me the most. I wallowed in my own self-pity instead of allowing her to reciprocate the things I had been doing for her. I withdrew into my own world and rejected the hand she offered me to keep me from becoming the recluse I had been before her.

One day, she looked at me, her eyes alight with love and joy. She told me how she had met a man. A man who loved her and treated her like the queen she was. He told her she was beautiful and sexy. And when he said these words to her, she believed him.

I looked at her as she waited for me to say something…anything. Her face shone like the moon on my darkest night. In the vicinity of the heart I claimed to not have, I felt something shatter. I always imagined she would wait for me to be that man…the one who would make her believe she was beautiful and worthy of being my partner. While I was getting my life together, she gave up on me because I hadn’t shared my true feelings for her.

She wanted me to break it…her heart. Instead, she broke mine.

Here's a second one I wrote just the other day:

And With One Look in His Eyes, She Told Herself, "This is gonna hurt when it's over."

Lost in her own world, music playing her worries away, she almost missed him. That isn’t the truth. Sure music was playing and she was lost in her own world, but she could never have missed him. He wouldn’t allow it. He strolled into that room, bigger than life, with a smile that lit up the darkness. Her anxiety was through the roof because avoiding conversations with complete strangers, even handsome ones, was ingrained in her nature.

He slowly slid into her daily routine. Enough so that she began to look for him and look forward to seeing him. He made her days easier and her nights were limited only by her imagination. Her laughter came slowly with this one. Before long, smiles replaced her anxiety and touches were less painful. Touches became a craving and her comfort with this stranger reached a plateau she never thought she’d reach. After all, men hurt women like her. She was nothing to them. She was easily tossed aside and forgotten like a childhood toy.

There was something different about this one. Something that made her trust him and trust was not an easy thing for her to give away. She felt safe and secure. His hands didn’t mean her harm. In fact, they were gentle in their caressing. His face was a complicated picture of perfection and imperfection. Handsome and beautiful, but not in a traditional sense, but honed to a kind of beauty that could only be seen with the eye of love.

Then, she took a chance one day and looked deep into his eyes. She took a breath and dove into the whiskey-colored pools with firelight flickering in their depths. They peered into her soul and she let down her guard. She forgot to breathe. In that moment, she lost her heart. And with that one look in his eyes, she told herself, “This is gonna hurt when it’s over.”

So, as you can see, my writing is making a comeback, but it is a slow going process. Tell me what you think!

He Saw Her

To get back into the rhythm of writing, I've been writing short pieces based on writing prompts that get my muse up and running. This particular prompt was "Write about someone that most people wouldn't notice."

It made me think about myself and how I have tried so hard to blend into the background. I never wanted to be the center of attention. Then, one day, this man with a charming smile walked in with this energy that coaxed me out of my shell. I've been told by boys throughout my life that I'm beautiful. Gorgeous boys who are almost half my age (some even more so). And they get me to halfway believe that they are telling the truth. But there was something different about this guy with the amazing smile. He isn't your standard issue college guy. He's special. There is nothing boy about him. He's the first man I've actually spent time getting to know. And he actually made me believe that I was beautiful.

So...here's a little writing piece for you:

She was nondescript in so many ways. She blended into the scenery and crowd. She was seldom noticed by anyone. She carried herself in a way that drew no attention. There was no wiggle in her walk. She walked with her shoulders back and her eyes on the crowd in front of her. She stared blindly in front of her, not noticing anyone. Her jeans and t-shirt or sweater attire made her look like every other college girls. Her body was hidden by her baggy clothing. She was full-figured with curves, but she didn’t accentuate her curves. She felt better hiding them away in a sea of sexy co-eds. The only thing that stood out immediately was her hair. It was blue-black with rainbows of color showing. Pinks, purples, blues, and greens drew the eye to the fact that she was no ordinary woman.

She sat in the back of the class and kept her nose in her book, earbuds in her ears. She avoided eye contact with anyone. Her eyes held pain and insecurities. She would diligently take notes and paid attention to the professor’s instructions. She never volunteered answers or asked questions; after all she couldn’t risk the chance of sounding stupid.

One day, a man walked into class. He caught the eyes of the quiet woman and smiled at her. Then, the woman who nobody saw did something that made her beautiful. She smiled at him. He decided in that moment to make it his mission to make her smile every chance he got. Because where no one else saw the beauty of this woman who attempted to blend into the background, her smile lit up his day. He made a point of telling her that her smile was something he missed when he wasn’t in class which only made her smile brighter. Her eyes danced with mischief and her laughter came easier each time. For an entire year, he made her smile, laugh, and her impish side came out to play.

He learned more about her than most people knew. She was easy to talk to and her teasing manner was fun to play with. She knew how to take a joke and could hand it right back to him. He opened up to her and let her into his world. He was the first person to initiate physical contact with the woman and, while it scared the hell out of her, she relaxed more and more in his presence until it felt normal for the touching to occur.

He knew someone had been unkind to her and made her feel as if she was less than she was. It raised his ire, but he continued to show the woman kindness. She opened her heart slightly and allowed him a glimpse at the sheer beauty of her. It wasn’t the clothes she wore or the way she styled her hair. It wasn’t her make-up or her shoes. It was the way her brain worked and the way he could make her smile like no one had before. It was the way her hand felt in his. It was the way she trembled when he touched her knee. It was the way her body fit against his when he took the chance to hug her. It was the way she sighed against his cheek as he held on longer than she expected. It was the way her hair tickled his nose and her scent lingered in his memory. It was the way he caught her watching him when he turned his head to look at her. It was the way she challenged him and made him question things. It was the confident way she gave him her phone number and encouraged him to use it. It was the way she was his personal cheerleader and believed he could do anything. It was the way their beliefs coincided. It was the similar ways they had grown up. It was so many things that made her beautiful. It was just the fact that everyone hadn’t seen her for what she really was…beautiful. What everyone else overlooked as a simple stone was actually an iridescent opal filled with color and fire if only it was held up to the sunlight and allowed to shine. 

Tell me what you think! Tell me about the man in your life! Tell me about how you find ways to stand out! Talk to me :)