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Novel – #7 (Jess and Todd)

We were both no good and not good enough for each other, flawed in our thinking and flawed in our actions, socially inept at times, and blind to the things that really mattered.

We were bound by the limits we set around us and knew the markers and knew them well. We often stayed around the center and drifted to the corners to pong back to our comfort zone.

….desperately needing just a small crack, something to pry apart to get beyond the repetitive loop. It’s not so much as grabbing a life line as much as rushing into the clearing.

….she was knocked to the edges of the limits. Once she crashed against it she knew something was different and she pressed more and more against the hard surfaces and that is where we met when she was pressing for an out and I was doing the same.

It didn’t matter how we got to where we were because once we were in the open space of undefined time a reset for us , a new starting point.

The experiences we had prior to this moment could tear us apart and squander the new reality we now freely envisioned and sought after.

What would we do with those life shaping events so that they serve their purpose to build us and provide reference points for completion or would we retreat from them and forfeit something we couldn’t know for sure but were brave enough to take the risk.

Maybe we ignored the edges because so content we were to happiness or resigned we were because we did not believe anything beyond but the seeking and the questions kept pouring on, bathing over us until we were prodded with no choice but to seek it out just to breathe and stay sane within our skin.

What I knew about her was a deep dive down the Internet highway and this was spurred on by a rare itch by my curiosity, all the events may be the result of my innocuous curiosity to understand something a little better than I had the day before.

I don’t understand acting but I do understand story and I do understand plot and the complex relationships that stem from them. I get the communication and I get the bonds of family and I know the concept and the power of love but as it is and as it was I didn’t and I don’t practice it well, much less master it because I have failed it and it has failed me.

Was I motivated by a simple attraction, an impulse, the smallest trigger of an emotion or thought that guided me to seek and to know her better and because of this change it grew greater, finer, and more substantial than I knew it could be.

We had the mine for value from each other where there seemed only empty space or where there was all value (space) full with the worthless (concrete bricks of refuse). The empty spaces had to be filled with beauty and the bricks of refuse had to be removed from the body of being.

The way we talked to each other was an odd mix of script-memory from so many episodes we had watched and from her time remembering her lines hundreds of lines in the subplots she knew forwards and backwards she would feed them to me and I would complete them but it was more than this because we were in full alignment but the roles we were playing were ourselves.

Who we are separate from the script was filling in the spaces so that when we argued or made up it was from our hearts and minds and not from visual cues remembered by the actors but the cues from our body language that was truly unique to us and when she said, “I love you” she personalized it and came forth from a pure source of her being and there could be no doubt these were her words for our time in this moment for our lives by having all the acknowledgments of her past I never felt deceived because if she were playing a part in life’s reality then I was deceiving her and there was no way I was deceiving her. I could not. I would not make any false assumptions.

Let me be perfectly clear she will not complete me it’s not her job and it’s not my job. She is my number one priority. She is placed above, not like a woman put on a pedestal but life investment in her. She’s who I seek for affirmation, she’s who I retreat to when I just don’t understand and she will be my comfort. We struggled to get to this point.

I wondered how we could share a life what would bond us together. We had a commitment of intention we were driven to succeed and we had love but the heart and all the emotions could not keep us alive. How would we make it through the mundane, what would we talk about or would we not talk at all, would we be able to suspend all the assumptions and preconceptions and judgments about one another and just listen and be.

A Novel – #6

I planned ahead thinking of possible flight schedules, hoping to get a flight as soon as possible. I had all the assurances that the tickets, lodging, and everything would be paid in full. I was uneasy that there was more to this than what appeared. Then I realized there were conditions to the all expenses paid journey. It must be completed their way. I was given a schedule to make passage on a freight ocean liner. I had no idea how long the trip would take now.

Where I thought I would have flexibility on someone else’s dime to explore once I arrived, but that was me being quixotic. I was to be lead around, a pawn in my own discovery. The thought of controlled exploring of small villages, of the back roads, putting limits on a once in a lifetime experience. I would want to explore the authentic spirit of the ancient world, with no strings, free to be incognito or gregarious within my journey.

So excited was I and so frustrated too that the overwhelming feeling of loneliness started weighing down the experience that it became sustenance without salt.

A Novel – #5 (The Letter)

FOR THE HEALING


I don’t know how else to write this letter, I don’t write
letters very often, but this is a pertinent matter. I figured I
would just put my faith in my words and in my heart, praying that
they will make their way to your ears, well meant and gentle. It may
seem redundant, it is instantaneous to our reactions, to say I’m
sorry, and I am, sorry. The vastness of my mistake, my wrongness,
keeps me in complete despair, for those I have hurt and for those
who were innocent in my accusations. But I tell you, I never, so
God as my witness, I have never betrayed your love, I have always
placed it far beyond anyone’s reach, far beyond any harm. It is
tucked into the warmest reaches of the sun, in the deepest part of
my faithful seas. To think of the future without you, only brings
me to tears, while out on the plains of this beautiful state, I can
see the painted skies, how the winds and sounds play together in
harmony, as man and wife. Wife, that is the key to my happiness,
and if you can find it in your heart to forgive, I ask of you on
bended knee to be my friend, my confidant, my lover, my wife.

Buried beneath the box of photos I placed the envelope.

With stricken heart,
T.B.

A Novel – (#4)

I received a large ledger size envelope at my door and this envelope would hold some of the most fascinating documents I had ever seen. As I moved my fingers under the flap to open the envelope I could tell it was padded down and secured with bubble wrap. I removed the bundle out which included many photographs and a letter.

I looked over the images in these old photographs, there were some in sepia and some in black and white. The faces staring back at me were unbelievable, but not only the people, but also the background, the old homes, the yards, the neighborhoods, the furniture, and it all was fascinating. I did not know of these relatives until recently. I have never seen these photographs, but I knew in my gut they had to exist. They just had to.

Here it was. Evidence of what I knew but had no way of showing. Wonderful, irrefutable proof was had that would add and adjust the story of my family. They must understand it all now. They must believe it. It felt good and I felt vindicated and secure in all my efforts. I don’t know who else knew. I could only speculate, but others knew the research I was doing. I picked up the letter and started reading.

A Novel (Piece 3, #3)

I had a vision of how I wanted my life to be. This vision had dreams upon dreams and dreams wrapped within dreams. Some of these dreams were a series of wants and desires that could be labeled as deeply superficial. I could not abide by them or treasure them because of their nature and because of the place in my mind they originated. I searched and worked to discriminate the virtue-validated desires of my heart against those that did not measure up. These nesting doll dreams revealing either cheap plastic trinkets or refined gems. Again and again I would be moved by material possessions or guided wrongly by seeking to have certain relationships, all neatly cataloged and crossed off the list as being “owned” by me. Then by possessing these, my life would be more perfect or more rewarding. At this time true meaning could be had.

As I put aside my impulses I would have moments of full clarity where the sanctified visions I had were not steps to completing me but ultimately were pure versions of myself or simply put were pin-point accurate insights to a part of myself that I knew were approved, true, and meant to be. So those that were vetted and aligned with goodness and grace were worth pursuing and they were worth dedicating my time and energy. I wanted to be known for and remembered by those purposeful visions. And all the remaining ones were straw men of deceitful lies from an aimless, sick, and desperate heart.

A Novel – (Piece 2)

Jessica felt my raw energy and she felt my anxiety that were swirling together like dirt and spit; something that was a positive force was also pulling against my relationship to her. She didn’t know what else to do. “You are neglecting me”, she said. “You aren’t putting me as a priority”. I thought, “I can’t make you care about my passion.” “I can’t make you apart of what I am doing.” I thought to myself, “partner up with me and join me on my journey.” Then I said the same thing in a different way to her, “help me instead of working against me”. “We can be a team, sharing “our” purpose instead of just sharing “my” purpose.” “Todd”, she said. “I just don’t care about all of this.” “Maybe this isn’t love, if you can’t sacrifice “caring” for “us”, “you have to fake it to make it”, but that was not the answer. If authenticity is something of value, then faking anything is not good for anybody. I didn’t have the answers. How can something that has made my life for the better also dismantle another part of my life that was for the better? There must be some balance to be had here. I should have considered a thoughtful way to include Jessica, she should of thought of me. We had a lot to learn about sacrifice and a lot to learn about taming our selfishness.

A Novel

[Intro]

We got along great. I do believe I cared for her. When they talk of chemistry, I suppose we had it. Even reflecting on our status, on our “relationship”, the question that would disrupt what we had was brought up by her because I sensed she was pushing the conversation to this question, though she had no idea she was opening the door to ending what we have.

Sometimes irritating what you have will lead to something better.

Leaning over the granite countertop as we were sharing some honey covered toast she asks, “What do you want from me”? I answered quickly, perhaps, I should not have, but I said, “Something you cannot give”. In hindsight this was abrupt, arrogant, unfair, and impulsive; but my experiences had brought me here and I believed it was true and maybe was true.

I then said, “…a relationship”. She looks back at me and says, “We have a relationship”. I said, “That’s true in the simplest terms, but what I mean is a ‘one flesh’ type of relationship. You are way too reserved, and don’t lean on me or confide in me. I know you trust me, but you don’t “trust” me fully. I’m not talking faithfulness, but me as a person in all things. And I think you know I’m holding back too.”

“How can two people be together and share so much and when it’s time to move forward, we are seeing things so differently?”, she said.

Is it too different? Are we digging too deep or are we not digging deep enough. Shouldn’t communication and being together be effortless and simple and this is the test that we failed.

All good things, all purposeful, all meaningful things require work. She thought these things and hoped I thought them too.

Short Story – Intro

I had a bird’s eye view of the land that was promised. I could see nothing but a solid color of green.

Through the blanket of green something stood out. I could not make out what it was though it sparked my curiosity and there is nothing I could do to put it away.

Every day there it was. It surely wasn’t alive but did it stay in the same place? Was it watching me? You could not believe how I thought about this thing.

It was just across the street and one day I walked downstairs and headed toward it to seek it out.

I lost it. How did I lose it? Did it move? I didn’t see it move? Now I was alarmed and my heart was beating rapidly. How could this happen?

This was in the middle of the day under the hot sun. Bad things don’t happen in the daylight. I decided to run back to an open space and find the object again.

Dream Log

Summer – 2019

Spinach salad, plucking the leaves…
Asked what kind of dressing [to my wife]….
She has a [sic]…

Godzilla is moving through the streets….
A bigger, stronger, and badder monster…
He uses a long blade to cut the opposition down…

I escaped from his reach…
[Dropped] Godzilla and [sic] through the trees…
A system of tangled limbs…

My wife who was sick I realize is not my wife…
I have been following her through the rain and a hall of many lockers…
I’m being followed…