David

This is a story I’ve been avoiding to tell for some time. This is a story that haunts me on a day to day basis. My heart is pounding ever so fiercely; I fear it will beat out of my chest. I must tell this story so that I may gain some peace of mind. At least that is my goal after it is all said and done. My story, like most, is about love, though despite the similarities, is unique in its own way. Thus, my story will begin.

I am a girl who once knew love, briefly, as well as true heart ache. When one is asked the definition of love, one must take in consideration all the different types of love. It is quite difficult to truly define love. John Lennon would simply say all we need is love, yet love can be the sole thing that extinguishes our inner flame, flinging you into deep desperation before you are given a chance to rekindle your flame. Love can be the one thing that holds you up above the rest, while at the same time is the one thing that allows you to plummet below your grasp. It can make you or break you. I was naïve. I believed in love. I believed in it so much, that it controlled me. I was so eager to fall in love and to give every ounce of my heart and soul to one other, that it consumed me. I was brave yet a coward. I was strong yet weak. My definition of love is that what is wanted by many, yet feared by all, it comes with such power and magic when truly pure and innocent, that when released it will possess you and take full control of your thoughts, your actions, your senses, you entirely, that is unless this is reciprocated from another, this is when love is dangerous, murderous in some cases. When a love like this isn’t matched equally, one is to only expect pain. Not just a pain in your chest, but pain all over. It can be quite excruciating in fact.

I had this once before.  It was everything one could possibly imagine. It was everything to me. From the moment we shook hands, I ached to be near him as if my life depended on it. It was as though I had taken my very first breathe of fresh air over again. I was rejuvenated. It was so bizarre. We were connected by some force that grew and grew with each passing day. My pulse would soar when we were close, when I thought of him, when his name was spoken. I felt as if I were going absolutely mad. Indeed I was just that, I was mad about him. My head would spin, clouding my thoughts when we were together. Unable to process my thoughts clearly, my voice would stumble over my words, when I spoke to him. When he touched me, a fire would grow from that spot and continue to grow until my entire body roared of his ember touch, sending chills up and down my spine.

Never knowing any of this prior to meeting him, it was all so new. Without knowing how to handle this, it consumed me. I should have been absolutely petrified of such a thing so powerful, yet there was no room for fear. My love for him flowed through me, filling every bit of me thoroughly leaving no spaces untouched. I was the puppet and love had become the puppeteer. I truly can honestly say he was the only one I have ever fully loved through and through.

Remember there are different types of love, and I will argue to the death that this was the ultimate love. If love had levels, this was the peak of Mount Everest. I know this, for my love for him flowed with such force, that it surrounded those around us. Anyone could see without a saying a word, that we were truly, madly, deeply in love. Not that anyone’s judgments would have mattered between us, but they were there and witnessed this beautiful bond between him and I. We were perfect in each other’s eyes. Without a care in the world, we eagerly gave in. We craved one another. Everyday promised us more time spent together than the day before could hold. We were inseparable. It truly was a fairytale, it was my fairytale.

Unfortunately, not every love story has a happy ending. After our brief happiness, reality began to sink in, cutting like a knife. Penetrating deep in my heart, sorrow was planted. Just as you can snap your fingers, my inner flame was out without a flicker. Anguish squeezed my heart. Reality doesn’t have a heart. Reality doesn’t believe in love. Reality has rules; everyone must follow one way or another. In reality, it wasn’t our time to shine. Though it was meant for our paths to cross, it wasn’t meant for us to stay together.

Reality, reminded us what would separate us, even if we fought. Reality always wins this battle. Grief-stricken, we could feel the end tugging at us, pulling us apart, slipping through each other’s finger tips, yet still fighting to hold on to each other. Reality had different plans for us, and separately. Time no longer stood still, everything was in full speed. Rushing to our deadline, we uttered those three words that to this day gave us new meaning forever. Tear filled eyes, overflowing onto my cheeks, voice unable to speak, trembling from head to toe, we said our farewells.

My father used to tell me that life isn’t always fair. I never understood those words fully, until 2008. I was soon to be 23 and was on a job in New Hampshire. My life forever changed, had come to its first check point and with many more to come. I am now 28 and living in central Florida on my own. I think of him often. Some days I let my guard down and my heart breaks all over again just thinking of him. Other days I stay strong and just smile when I think of him. I have no regrets of our time shared together. I have no regrets that in the end, we each took our own separate paths. I like to think that every day we both remember each other at the exact minute and what we shared together for a moment of each other’s life.

Out of sight and out of mind, doesn’t include the heart. He will forever remain in my heart as he will always have mine. To have known such a love, scares me. I am not as eager to give someone love as willingly as I had with him. I am stubborn today. This frightens me because I fear I will never truly love someone as passionately as I did with him. I fear I will cheat whoever gives me their heart. I have cared for others since him and have expressed a form of love as well, but not to the same degree. Maybe I am afraid to have that once more. Maybe I am afraid of feeling that inevitable pain again. I can only trust that with time, my wounded heart will heal properly. I know it will never fully be healed; his love has left permanent scars on my heart.

There is one who came close to achieving this. He is very dear to me and I miss him every day. Though pain had ruptured my wounds when he wasn’t ready for me, it wasn’t nearly as devastating as it was with my true love. My true love had no choice but to say goodbye, this one had a choice. Yet, I do not hold this against him. For I realized, I wasn’t ready either and I may not be for some time. To see the possibilities of what love can offer, then to have it snatched away, I can only trust that life can be fair at times. That gives me hope that I will one day trust in my heart once again.

Tornado

I dreamed of tornadoes again last night. This is the second time I've had this dream but it was unique in its own way.  This time I had 8 people with me and I can only remember one face—Carey. We were all at a location and I see out the window four little tornadoes. Little or not I freak out. Tornadoes are unpredictable and I do not do well with not knowing. So we all flee on a bus of sorts and the tornadoes are chasing us. After a ways, the sky clears and all is good again. We stop at a second location only to be welcomed moments later by a massive tornado. There isn't time to flee on the bus so we seek shelter underground. I wake up.

The first time I had dreamed of tornadoes I had to look up the meaning due to my never ending curiosity. To see a tornado in your dream suggests that you are experiencing some extreme emotional outburst and temper tantrums. To see several tornadoes in your dream represent people around you who are prone to violent outburst and shifting mood swings. It may also symbolize a volatile situation or relationship. (source: www.dreammoods.com)

Now from time to time, I will have a little outburst but it takes a lot for me to explode. Although, I am a natural loud and at times an abrasive person, those who rarely know me, assume that I outburst on the regular. This is not the case I assure you. I hold in a lot and little by little become a ticking time bomb. I know this isn't healthy. When I remember to, I’ll vent to a dear friend or resort to my writings. The angrier I am the better writing I do.

Carey was the only face I knew in my dream as well as remember when I woke up. Carey is a very long, long story—7 years in fact. One day I will go into the depths and share this story but today is not that day. However, I will say that it has ended, even though temporarily. It’s an endless cycle between him and me. Again, one day I will thoroughly go into details about him.

Due to my temporary ending with Carey, I have been extremely emotional, not so many outburst however. I tried to end things between us as pleasantly as any goodbye could be. That only pissed him off thus leaving me even more of a wreck. I've gotten a bit better as time has slowly passed. It’s only been a month but feels like an eternity to me.  Thanks to him, my creative juices begin to flow again and a new poem was born. 

Zombie

Stephanie L. Willsey ©

You've lived in my heart for too long

You burst out, breaking my ribs

I've loved you since I met you

You're killing me now

You are the Great Puppeteer

Your words, your actions;

The rhythm of my heartbeat

Once myself--today a black void

Your hole to succumb from Life

Free me of you, I plead

Allow me what life I could have

Though I am weak and broken

My heart shall beat for no one again

I am but a corpse--no heart, no spirit

You've taken them from me

My pain is your glory; tears to dust

Wave my white flag; you've won

I can't take back what is yours,

Just give me back tomorrow

Any feedback rather positive or negative is greatly appreciated for my poem. It’s been a few years since I've written anything other than journal entries and now this blog.

On The Road Again...

One thing about the weather in Central Florida, if they say there is a chance of rain it will rain however, estimating the time of the rain is like spinning the Price is Right wheel and landing on $1.00. It has rained every day since Tuesday at my place. Since Michelle fired the lawn care guys last week, I volunteered to cut the 2 acres of yard for a small compensation and with a push mower. 

Cutting grass really flooded me with memories growing up on Deborah Circle. Many summers I spent cutting the neighbors yard for $5-15 dollars, some even paid me for the gas I had used. For the most part, it was a great neighborhood to grow up in. We had lived there almost 11 years before we moved out to the country. It was the longest my family occupied a home for. Eleven years doesn't compare to a lifetime but that was eleven years I'll never forget. 

I am usually an early riser thanks to Boogie. It doesn't matter if I let him out at midnight, he will still wake up at 630-7 am needing to go outside. Thanks to the dew and super thick grass, I had to wait til 10 am to cut grass. Thursday I had only got to cut that morning for and hr and a half. I had waited for it to cool back down in the evening but at 5 pm it started to pour. Yesterday wasn't much different. I cut from 10 til noon and again at 1 til 2:45 pm. The rain wouldn't wait any longer and without warning, opened the flood gates. I was already drenched in my own sweat and mother nature gave me a half-ass bath, running to get the tarp to cover the mower and then get inside.

Thanks to cheap pre-paid cellular service, I have to drive down the road to get a signal to make any calls. On occasion, if I set my phone just right on the window sill in my room I am able to text, if I don't move the phone. I drive down the road to call my soon-to-be roommate letting her know that I wasn't going to make it out there due to the weather brewing. I then received a call from one of my girlfriends wanting a ride-along for her trip to Port St. Lucie that night to meet her sister. I had no other plans for the evening, so I accepted.

Though we were only meeting her sister at a half-way point, HWY 60 from Lake Wales to the Turnpike is 45 minutes of nothingness! I completely understood why she wanted someone to ride with her. I'd hate to be stranded out there without a companion. The idea of her being stranded alone on the side of the road scared me but also humored me. I imagined a swamp man pulling up, dressed in only coveralls, taps on the window and asking 'Do you need help?' with only a few teeth to complete his smile and an accent that of Karl Childers. We cracked up at the thought of him liking 'taters'. 

Drum Roll....

This is my second attempt at starting a blog. I failed miserably at it once before; second time's a charm right?

I woke up at 7 am this morning thanks to my set alarm to let Boogie outside to potty as well as get ready for the day. Before I could take a shower, I ask Michelle if she was going to the ranch today and if she mind taking Boogie a long with her while I was at work today. She interjected stating that I had only 5 days to find a new ‘home’.

Home is a term I use very lightly. I haven’t had a true home since I was in high school; even then that was pushing the boundaries a bit. I once had someone compare me to a gypsy  by definition of a wandering soul. It is my goal to put an end to this suggestion. I despise moving more than anything in this world. It is exhausting, packing then unpacking only to pack again, and not just in the physical aspect of the word but emotionally as well. I moved to Central Florida in August 2010, rapidly approaching my three year anniversary, in hopes of a new beginnings and a clean slate. I did not mean to be so literal with it either. I've had twelve ‘new beginnings’ and working on lucky number thirteen. I can only wonder which end of the spectrum my ‘luck’ land.

Once I arrived to work this morning, I am reminded once again why I have a ‘love-hate’ relationship with my job. I am a nanny by profession. I absolutely love that I work with children on a day to day basis, yet I loathe how underpaid I truly am. It’s my fault really. I am too gullible for a ‘pushing’ 30 year old. I’d like to blame this on my upbringing but then I wouldn't really hold true to the meaning of the word; be more of a see-saw effect. I know I've always trusted a stranger quicker than I would someone I've known for a while. My logic is that a stranger doesn't have any dirt on me as someone who knows me may have, therefore without any regard or worry of what is said to a stranger, I have no fear it’ll be thrown back in my face at a later time. I speak from experience. Now I’m not saying I would trust a stranger with just anything, but mostly just facts about myself, nothing of great value really.

It is summer vacation and Alexa currently has no ‘bed-time’. If and when allowed, she has slept most of my shift away, leaving 1 or 2 hours of ‘play time’. I felt guilty after the first day of allowing her beauty sleep, now instead I promptly have her up and at ‘em no later than noon. She isn't quite the morning person either, which reminds me of an ex who literally growled at me when waking him for work in the mornings. Thankfully, she doesn't growl, just some groaning and shrieks when I say I’m going to tickle her.

As soon as she woke up today, she starts complaining about her leg. I take a look at it; I see no cuts or bruises and she doesn't yelp when I touch it. I immediately think she’s faking it, she can be quite the drama queen when it comes to getting her way. She wobbles her way into the living room for ‘breakfast’ complaining with each step about her leg.

I prepare our lunch and turn the T.V. off or else she’ll take 2 hours to eat. I always have to re-heat her food if the T.V. is on. She reminds me of a cat watching a laser that is pointed on the wall, patiently swinging its tail back and forth, eyes glued to the red dot in any direction it moves. If the Disney Channel is on, forget it! There is no getting her attention whatsoever when Disney is on.

Once she is fed, I suggest a nice warm bath for her leg, her mom had asked for her to have one anyways when she got up. I let her soak, really play, in the tub for 40 minutes. She says her leg feels a little bit better by pinching her finger and thumb together when I asked how she felt. I can’t help but chuckle, I know her games all too well.

After her bath, we worked on some math skills and reading. She struggled a little this past school year in math. Brandi, her mother, and I agreed it would be for her benefit for next school year to keep her in a routine with math and reading during the summer. Her reading improved tremendously this school year; almost a third grade level reading! Between math and reading, I let her have a ‘play time’ break, either outside or indoors. Today she chose to play in the back yard with her English bulldog named King Louie.

After we finished her ‘schooling’ for the day, she was ready for a snack so I switched Disney on for her and suggested she lay on the couch with her legs straight as a board. Two episodes of Jessie later I hear, “My leg feels much better!” I can only wink at her in reply. She really is a little stinker.