i miss you so much

"I never asked for this feeling."

Sometimes is she laid very still after waking up and kept her eyes closed, she could still feel him sleeping beside her. Trevor. His slow rhythmic breathing. His arm draped lightly and protectively around her waist.

But these were just memories of moments few and far between. Layla always struggled to hold on to that feeling in the morning and inevitably surrendered to reality after a few seconds. The reality that Trevor was four hours away, that they slept alone every night and could meet in their dreams.

Layla had never wanted this. Anyone who knew her well knew that she was adamantly opposed to long distance relationships. How can you get to know someone over the phone? How can you maintain an intimate connection from just a few visits each year? The long distance relationship just seemed illogical to her.

That was until Trevor. They met while he was in town visiting some old college friends. They hit it off immediately. And as hard as Layla tried to dismiss him and their connection, she eventually succumbed. The two had a great relationship. They had trust and honesty. They were best friends. The chemistry was there.

But sometimes Layla felt so overwhelmed by missing him. It was such a lonely and desperate feeling. Sometimes she worried that she had been right all along. That distance equaled failure, that somehow she would fail him.

motherless child

"I try to run away but I've been running too long."

Daphne looked eagerly around the empty apartment. It was perfect. Loft ceilings. Walk in closets. Stainless steel appliances. It really was a great space. The rent was a little higher than she had planned but Daphne could manage. She eagerly signed the lease the rental agent had prepared for her and set her move in date.

Now came the hard part, telling her friends she was moving. Daphne could imagine the irritation and exasperation already. She knew she would get very little credit for managing to stay in one apartment for two years. And she knew that they would be reluctant to help her. But two years had seemed like a reasonable amount of time to Daphne and she was ready to try something new.

Daphne couldn't understand their stagnancy. Staying in one place too long just seemed like settling down and she was not prepared to do that. After all, life was supposed to be all about change. So she liked to change things. New apartments, new cell phone numbers, new cars.
In fact, Daphne was beginning to think about moving to a new city altogether. She had been in Boston for seven years. Her life had gotten so comfortable and routine that she found it unsettling in some ways. But she adored her friends and found the thought of leaving them even more unsettling.

This new apartment would appease her. It would satisfy her constant urge to change, at least for the moment. Staying in her old apartment just couldn't work. The people there knew her too well, greeting her in the hallways and checking on her well-being. The kids in the neighborhood could recognize her car. The people in the management office knew her by name.

Daphne felt smothered. She knew this feeling. It was how she felt at family holidays, reunions, graduations, and any other event where her family gathered en masse. The expectation was overwhelming. The questions were invasive, her answers short and awkward. And Daphne always left frustrated and feeling more isolated than before. It was the feeling she ran from desperately and would continue to run from no matter where it took her.

let me go

"I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand."

The table may as well have been an ocean between them. Sid and Davey sat quietly in the wooden dining room chairs. Davey silently ran his hand along the cherry finish of the table. Sid sat unmoving with his arms crossed defiantly. Another few tense minutes passed before Sid finally broke the silence.

The scene that came next wasn't pretty. The more they talked, the more the rift grew. And it wasn't as if they didn't try. Sid asked for understanding. He tried over and over again to explain his case. Davey pleaded for compromise, but had to face the reality that there was little left to agree on.

The boys had been friends since the second grade. They had been through everything together. Broken arms, divorce, first loves, and first heartbreaks. They were inseparable. And then one day changed everything.

Sid's older brother died fighting in the war. Sid decided that after graduation, he was joining the army. Despite his youth, Davey was a staunch advocate of piece and had long decried the war. There was little room to negotiate with either of them.

Truth be told, each boy had some understanding for the other's point of view. Each boy was right in a way. And so they argued in a futile attempt to save what they already knew was lost and already missed. In the end, they shook hands as men do when there's nothing left to say. They walked away with sincere well wishes and hollow promises to keep in touch. And the uncomfortable truth that growing up means change.

fallen

It's the bitter taste of losing everything I've held so dear."

The pills sat on the table in front of Marlene. They were two bottles of strong painkillers leftover from the car accident last year. Marlene had barely taken any of the pills. The irony of the situation made her laugh out loud. The bottles were full because she didn't like taking pills.

She took another sip of the large glass of wine. Her hands were shaking and she wasn't quite sure if it was from nervousness or anticipation. Marlene was beyond the point of debating what she was about, but still slightly reluctant to get started. Started with her end.

But there was nothing here for her. Marlene couldn't remember a time when her life didn't seem like it was on a downward spiral. The abusive parents which opened the door for the abusive boyfriends. The last two years of unemployment. Marlene had given up on men and career. But there were her kids, and she had put on a brave face for them and carried on.

Then the accident happened and in one bizarre stroke of misfortune, she lost both her little boys. The way that pick-up truck hit her car, it nearly tore it in half and the damage to the backseat area of the car was extensive. There had been little to no hope for her two boys. And they died.

So Marlene had nothing now. The last year had been unbearable. She was filled with sadness and guilt. It was exhausting. And pretty pointless as far as she was concerned. She took another big gulp of wine, opened a bottle of pills, and began taking them quickly. Right as she was slipping away, she wondered who would find her.

everybody's free (to feel good)

"I know you've been hurting but I've been waiting to be there for you."

The movie had been playing for nearly forty-five and Todd realized he had no idea what was going. He was just nervous. His mind kept rehearsing the conversation he planned to have with his best friend Kevin after the movie was over. Todd glanced at Kevin in the seat beside him and noticed for the first time that he was really enjoying the movie.

It had taken Todd a long time to decide to tell Kevin what was going on. At least it had seemed long. This was not the first outing where Todd had planned to confide in Kevin, but he had always changed his mind or basically chickened out. But Todd had finally decided that he needed help.

It had been six months since the accident and Todd had barely talked about it with his friends. After all, as he reminded them anytime the subject came up, accidents happen. But Todd knew this had been no ordinary car accident. He had gotten distracted. He had driven through the stop sign. He had hit the silver Focus and permanently injured the driver.

Now Todd needed help. He felt inadequate and embarrassed asking for it. But he had to. All the guilt and the sadness was too much for him to bear alone. He had started to slip away from his social life, he had completely shunned his girlfriend, he nearly had a panic attack every time he got behind in his car. And then four days ago, he got notice of the lawsuit the other driver had filed.

Maybe that was his breaking point. Maybe it was more than he could handle. The idea of having to go through a trial and see what he had done to this other person was completely paralyzing. So today he would tell Kevin. Todd would ask for his help. He wasn't sure what Kevin could really do for him, but somehow he knew just the asking would help tremendously.

trying times

"I keep crying tears of joy. I guess that's what you're put here for. To change these tears of pain to tears of happiness."

Catherine dashed down a few more quick sips of champagne before following the rest of the girls out of the dressing room. Her hands were shaking and a part of her thought she wasn't going to make it the thirty feet to the alter doors.

Then she saw a silhouette of herself in the stained glass windows in the hallway. Light was pouring in from the outside, reminding her of how beautiful this day was. A light that illuminated the hallway beyond its regular muted lighting. She looked perfect in that silhouette.

Catherine's mind eased a little and she began to really take in the moment. This was her wedding day. A day she never imagined to come. Catherine had never been the girl who dreamed about having a family. She simply had not seen herself with a husband or kids, and frankly never wanted the responsibility. That is until Jeff.

It wasn't one of those immediate things. She hadn't looked into Jeff's eyes and knew he was the one. But it was unexpected. Catherine had long ago given up the dating game, opting instead to fill her life with career and family and friends. She was content, but now she realized never fully happy.

Jeff had been like the sunlight. Pouring into her and lighting up the dimness of her heart. It was a feeling she found she could never properly explain, but it was amazing and so real.

So here Catherine was. Her wedding day. And as she finally reached her father and took his hand, she felt calm. One little peek through the small window in the altar door had allowed her to see Jeff and she was sure. Sure that she loved him and sure that she was ready for a life of happiness.

tell him the truth

"Look I know it's no excuse but I'm only human, and young at that. So I'm gonna make mistakes, then hope you understand."

It had all gone so terribly wrong. Mainly, the relationship and that phone call.

Royce had never felt anything like what he felt with Caroline. The very first time he saw her, he loved her. He tried to play it cool, but he had been so obvious in that first moment. Just awe at this beautiful creature before him. He couldn’t fake it. And time would teach that lesson to him over and over again. He adored her and he was foolish enough to think that was enough. That their relationship would be a carefree journey. Something straight out of the movies.

Instead things fell apart. Which in hindsight wasn’t actually surprising. They went to romantic comedies together, had drinks in the evening on the couch, met each other’s parents. But they kept each other at a distance. They didn’t talk about their dreams or fears. They didn’t talk about how they loved each other. They acted like a couple. And were stupid enough to be surprised that acting wasn’t enough.

It was no one’s fault. It certainly wasn’t hers. Royce was the one that had become unsettled first. That even before he could really recognize it, knew that something wasn’t quite right. And then one night he went out with the guys and he met a girl. A random girl at a random bar. She was cute enough, but so were a million other girls. But she sat and she talked to him. They left together and went back to her place. And they sat and talked more. They talked about everything, and it was suddenly so clear everything that was wrong with his relationship with Caroline.

And he was but a man, so he did what men sometimes do. He let the moment carry him and he slept with that girl. He couldn’t even look at her as he left the next morning. He couldn’t look at himself. Caroline was out of town but the phone was sitting right by him in the car. So he called her and he told her what happened. She cried. He pretended not to. She told him so much in that thirty minute conversation. So much about the dreams she had for their life together, the things he did that made her love him, the hope that she found in him. It was everything he had ever needed to hear. Just a day too late. And then she was gone. She was done with him and she was gone.

Royce sat there. By that stupid phone. And he felt physically ill. Shortness of breath, dizziness, nausea, a numbingly sharp pain throughout his body. Maybe this was shock. Or maybe this was what it felt like when your heart actually broke.

lift me up

"So the pain begins as the music fades. I'm left here with more than I can take."

Molly swayed rhythmically to the sound of silence. The power of the song that had just ended simply blocked out the thunderous applause surrounding her. Her eyes were barely closed and moist from a river of tears. She may have stood there forever in that trance if her partner hadn't jarred her back to reality. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the front of the stage.

Molly opened her eyes reluctantly, and all her senses returned. People were clapping, many were standing, some even crying. So she tried desperately to hold herself together and curtsied towards each side of the auditorium before walking briskly off stage. At the safety of her semi-private vanity, Molly finally felt safe enough to think about what had just happened.

She had done that dance a million times during rehearsals. The lead in a ballet, something she never expected to get at 17 years old. Molly fought hard for that piece and even harder to keep it. The choreographer told her repeatedly throughout rehearsal that something wasn't quite there.

But something happened that night. Molly wasn't sure what it was exactly, but suddenly it all clicked. This ballet was a tragedy, about the rise and then fall of love. So there she was, in the final act, when the music hit her like a whirlwind. So sad and so desperate, absent of hope. The movements were like second nature to her now so she never flubbed as images of her own life began to fill her head.

Hers was a life without love as well. It seemed as if her life story picked up right where this ballet ended. She was the lonely girl, absent of feeling, going through the motions of life. Or she was before this night. Molly opened her eyes to look in the vanity and felt that she could see the visible change in her. A sadness where there once was just a void.

tell me why

"Down here from the ground I see who you are."

It had changed so many things in her life. It wasn't really the big stuff that bothered her. The trial, the look of pity on her friends and families' faces. She had prepared herself for that and she was a fighter. And it wasn't the things she expected. It had only taken three months for her to start back dating. Now, seven months after it happened, she had a boyfriend and they had a healthy, normal relationship.

But there were these things. She used to be a stomach sleeper and now just laying on her stomach for a few seconds created instant panic. The elevator at work made this loud clicking sound when it arrived on a floor, a sound too similar to cocking a gun. Just two days ago, her infant nephew had pulled her hair and it took all her bodily control to not drop him immediately. The smell of coffee. It was these strange, small, unexpected moments that brought up the terror of that night. She didn't know how to get past it.

It seemed like it had happened so long ago. Almost as if it happened to another person. Maybe her radar was down, but she had never gotten an uneasy feeling about the guy. They had run into each other at the grocery store a few times, flirted shamelessly, and finally he had asked her out for coffee. They had coffee and everything was fine. Pleasant conversation, a respectable amount of chivalry, no sexual advances or innuendo. So when he asked her to dinner at the end of the coffee date, she felt completely comfortable saying yes.And even dinner had gone well. They dined at one of her favorite restaurants. Shared a bottle of wine. More great conversation. Then he drove her home. They sat in the car talking for fifteen minutes, so eventually she invited him in for coffee. The night was still relatively young and she wanted to finish their conversation.

The mistake of her life. It didn't take long after they were both inside and the door was locked that everything changed. A lot of it was blurry, almost like a dream. But there was a distinct moment, before the nightmare really started, that she knew something was wrong. She dropped her keys after she came in the house. When she bent down to pick them up, she glanced up at him. Really she was trying to see if he was checking her out. And he was, but the look in his eye wasn't a man checking out a woman's cleavage. It was a savage look of a tiger stalking its prey.

harder to breathe

"Does it kill? Does it burn? Is it painful to learn that its me that has all the control?"

It had taken awhile, but her plan had come together well. Of course, she had never suspected otherwise. Beth had perfected this game.

In the beginning, she had really hoped things would be different. That Will would be different from those other guys. That he was interested in more than her body. But she was wrong. Beth wavered for a moment recalling the way her hope and desire had been killed with one quick conversation. Will made it perfectly and painfully clear that this was just a sex thing. Of course, she had controlled her reaction and agreed convincingly.

Now here she was four months later. The so-called sex thing had continued. And Beth had spent these four months lying to herself, burying any real feelings she had for Will and encouraging the notion that he should be treated just like any other guy from her past. Use then lose.
Beth recognized the perfect moment a week away. Will had suddenly become a little more tender when they had sex. He had shown signs of jealousy when he saw another guy approach her. He had called her a few times just to chat.

Beth turned to him that morning after she got dressed, after a night of putting in some of her best work. She told him that she thought they should end things, that she was ready to move on to a new fling, that this had just gotten a little stale. And of course that they should still remain friends.

She saw it. That look of surprise, disappointment, confusion. The look of being hurt. She knew that look because she had felt it, and now Beth was supposed to be relishing in passing that hurt along to him. Instead, her own hurt surfaced suddenly and threatened to break her whole facade. She grabbed her things, threw a quick goodbye over her shoulder, and left him there alone in his apartment trying to figure out what had just happened.

Beth made it to her car, which was thankfully parked out of sight from Will's apartment. The tears came streaming down despite her best effort to calm herself. She wiped them away frantically, knowing that no matter how bad she felt now her pride would never let her change her mind. This was done.

breathless

"When you feel the world is crashing all around your feet, come running headlong into my arms."

Devin couldn't help but scan the room the moment she entered the old gymnasium. She wasn't having feelings of nostalgia from the hundreds of times she had been in this room watching basketball games or having cheer practice. She wasn't taking in the sight of her former classmates as they mingled awkwardly. She was looking for him.

Devin had planned to come to this high school reunion for all the typical reasons. There were people she hadn't seen in years that she was genuinely looking forward to catching up with. And of course there were people that she just nosily wanted to see what happened to. And yes Devin was also happy to show off her new fiance and tell everyone about her important job in Los Angeles.

Then three weeks before the reunion, she found out the news. Ryan was sick. Really sick. Cancer sick. Of course Devin didn't find out from Ryan; they hadn't spoke in nearly eight years. A friend of a friend told her.

So here she was looking around for this boy from high school. Ryan. The one that got away, as she had jokingly told her fiance. And now that Devin was surrounded by this familiar place and former friends, those old feelings stirred up a little more than she expected. But she did her part. She mingled and hugged and drank punch.

Then there Ryan was. She nearly fell over him trying to avoid a girl she used to take Spanish with. The party was almost over, so Ryan asked her for the last dance. It was all so epic, so high school. Devin glanced furtively at her fiance who nodded his head okay. She noticed some reluctance in his eyes, but he knew how important this was for her.

All Devin really remembered about that dance was that the music was slow and a little melancholy, that Ryan was thinner than expected when she put her arms on his shoulders, and that they never said a word. But somehow it was perfect. It was the fulfillment of a crush. It was the reuniting of old friends. It was goodbye.

The song ended. Ryan stepped back, then took her in for a quick but powerful hug. Then he was gone, just as abruptly as he had appeared. Devin turned and walked unsteadily towards her fiance who gratefully met her halfway. And she cried, which is maybe what she had really been waiting to do all along.

ready for love

"I will learn what you teach and do the best that I can."

So Raven has a boyfriend. It seems like a regular, everyday thing but its not. Not for Raven. The last boyfriend she had was from college, more than six years ago. She was a different person then in a completely different mindset. Now here she was at 28 years old with no idea of how to carry herself in this relationship. Of course her friends were filled with dos and don'ts, but she had listened to their bitterness and complaints for years and was more than weary of any advice they had to give.

Malcolm was a good guy. A strong, silent type with this amazing smile. And Raven adored him. They had known each other for a while, then one night their was a spark and everything changed between them. The beginning had been so intense that Raven hadn't had time to think and panic about the prospect of being in a relationship.

It wasn't even really that she was afraid of the commitment. Raven was into Malcolm, she wanted them to get closer, and could easily see herself falling in love with him. But Raven was afraid that she didn't know how to be a girlfriend. The dates, the hand holding, the invasion of private space, the openness, the trust, the sacrifice. The meeting of the parents. All of these things scared her.

But whenever she was with Malcolm, Raven knew she had to try. She knew he was worth it. And she knew that these were issues and fears she would have to get over in order to live her life.

goodbye to you

"I want you but I'm not giving in this time."

It was odd because Lacey didn't really believe in trial and error. She never accepted that adage that one has to learn the hard way. She had never been a gambler, especially when it came to her personal life. Yet the past two years had been little more than a roll of the dice. And while she knew that some of the blame should be on her shoulders, she had no qualms about placing all of it with him. Devin.

Lacey met Devin in the most innocent of ways, even though know she found herself doubting that that meeting was as random as it seemed. But hopefully it was. Two people meet in a grocery store Raisin Bran versus Raisin Bran Crunch in the cereal aisle. He was charming, kind, and cute. He asked for her number and Lacey gave it to him. By their third date, they were practically inseparable. Maybe that was part of the problem, that things had happened too fast for either one of them to really be objective.

Their relationship was intense. The arguments were big, and always contained insulting words and harsh accusations that shook Lacey to the core. But Devin always seemed so sincere, so apologetic and willing to compromise after the fight was over. He always admitted defeat, which Lacey enjoyed at the time, but now realized was his strategic way of being in control of the relationship. But the good days were so good that it helped her forget the bad. Peaceful walks along the water's edge, strolling hand in hand. Late night philosophical conversations. A shared love of classic movies and bourbon.

But the bad days were so bad. And they had become far too frequent by the end. Lacey thought maybe they had always been unraveling, that they had never really been united in the first place. That somehow she had fallen into the spider's web that was Devin's love and by some stroke of grace she had survived without getting her head bitten off.

But her heart was breaking as she walked out the door of his apartment. They both knew it would be the last time without it being said. Devin didn't fight it, as if his conscience took over for a moment and demanded he let her go. She made it out the door, down the hallway, and into the elevator before she looked back. Even then she was mad at herself for the tiny speck of hope that existed inside her. Hope that Devin would be standing in that door, with tears in his eyes and a small speck of his own hope that she would come back to him. But Devin wasn't there and Lacey shakily pushed the button for the lobby.

satellites

"How can we live if we don't change?"

Warren and Rebecca had three children. They had always wanted three, and ten years after getting married, here they were with three healthy and happy kids.

There was Danny. A rambunctious 9 year old, with a strong appetite and yellow belt in karate. Danny was also the listener. Sometimes it amazed his parents just how much he knew, even about them. It could be annoying, but it was beautiful to see how that quality emerged as such a caring part of him. He was so aware of what others were going through or needed help with.

There was Eliza. She was the intellectual, always sitting somewhere thinking. She had learned to read already and was devouring books they way her big brother devoured dinner. Eliza's main love had always been learning. And she held her knowledge. Already her understanding of things, her knowledge base was far beyond that of the average 6 year old.

And there was little Hope. They named her Hope because that pregnancy had been so difficult. She was the sensitive one, known to cry at the drop of a hat. But she was also the daring one, eager to brave one adventure after another. She was only 2 years old but she had been that way since birth. So open about her feelings. So ready to try out the whole world.

To Warren and Rebecca, it had seemed these amazing kids had just sprung from mid-air. That they were born with these amazing personalities and gifts. It was their natural state, nothing that instilled in them or taught to them. But just maybe, it was Danny seeing his father everyday at his karate practices that made him first begin to notice and care about the kids whose parents never showed up. Maybe it was the way Rebecca took the time to answer every one of Eliza's questions that let her know that learning was important. And maybe it was the way Warren and Rebecca poured affection on Hope that gave her the sense that crying was okay and that they would always be there when she fell.

There is a truth that may have escaped Warren and Rebecca. That loving makes them grow. Telling them that you love them reassures them, and that confidence gives them license to better. Showing them how much you love them encourages them, and that manifests in bigger dreams and goals.

So if you haven't already today, love someone.

harlem blues

There are beautiful days
The sun is shining, the sky is a gentle blue
A quick breeze can pick up the sound of children's laughter and the smell of flowers blooming
And every moment feels tailor made
Like the sun is shining directly to you
Every breath gets better

But storm clouds gather so fast with a slip of the tongue
The sky darkens with every crease in his furrowed brow
And his words are raindrops, each one coming harsher and faster than the last
Lightning strikes angrily the sweet brown eyes of heaven
And you're not sure if you hear thunder or simply the sound of your heart breaking and falling in pieces to the ground
You move with the wind, he takes one step forward so you take one back

The search for a haven is in vain, so you gather your strength to quietly wait out the storm
You know its almost over when the rain changes to a soft, salty ocean streaming down your face
And it hurts to know that even through this storm you can his sun shine

"Like much weather, when he'll change nobobdy knows."

ordinary day

"Just a boy, just an ordinary boy, but he was looking to the sky."

Tevin looked up into the shadowy evening sky and saw a hawk soaring above. For one split second, he knew he could fly. Not in an airplane or with jet pack. Not even with wings. Just him, sailing into the sky in his plain human body.

He found the though disconcerting and he tried to shake it away. So Tevin stopped looking at the sky and put his attention back on the 7th grade science exams he was grading. But that night he dreamed of flying, of seeing his house from a bird's eye view.

And the thought lingered. Tevin found himself having dreams of flying nearly every night. He would find himself absentmindedly searching articles about human flight on the internet. Of course the results would always be Superman images or some other science fiction/superhero reference.

But one day things changed. Tevin was again out on his back porch in the evening hours. A beautiful sunset stretched out in front of him. And Tevin was beginning the task of preparing future lesson plans for a new subject area, anatomy. Tevin opened the teacher's guide edition of the science book with the full intent to put together a lesson plan that provided a comprehensive, albeit brief, look at the entire body. But he never made it past the brain.

Specifically, Tevin got lost in a small subsection of the guide book entitled "The Mysteries of the Brain". Here, there was discussion about the untapped potential of the human brain. About how people with genius-level intelligence, musical prodigies, reputed psychics, and even some people with autism tapped into some parts of the brain that were dormant in the rest.

Tevin again thought of flying. But this time he didn't think with the imagination of a child but with the clarity of a scientist. And he decided that it was more than possible, it was doable. He decided that he would be the one to do it.

every morning

"Once again, as predicted, left my broken heart open and you ripped it out."

Brooke knew she looked perfect tonight. Little black dress. Strappy, red stilettos. She had taken special to make sure every part of her was as alluring as possible. And as she walked through the club that night, she knew she would be able to accomplish her task.

After about an hour in the club, she spotted him. Martin. He was there with his friends as she had suspected. She caught him eyeing her once and Brooke knew her plan would work. She smiled coyly at him and was pleased to see that such a simple thing gave him the courage to come over.

As Martin began making his way across the room, Brooke turned to get a new drink at the bar. And to enact step two of her plan. She spotted a suitable guy towards the end of the bar. Well-dressed, well-groomed, offering to pay for her drink which she readily accepted.

Brooke couldn't have planned the timing better. Martin stopped to speak to her friends before making his final approach to her. By the time he got to her, Brooke was flirting shamelessly with the bar guy. She casually said hey to Martin, giving him as much attention and affection as a distant cousin, and then turned back to her conversation with the bar guy. But not before she caught the look of astonishment and disappointment cross Martin's face.

Brooke had a hard time masking her face. And stopping the small part of her that wanted to grab Martin and apologize. But she quickly shook off her doubt. It had taken her too long to get past her own astonishment and disappointment over how casually Martin had treated her recently. Brooke had made the mistake once already to open herself to him, only to be shaken by his lack of call and apparent lack of care. But she was not the type to wallow in self-pity too long. Getting even was much more liberating.

ain't no mountain high enough

"If you should fall short of your desires, remember life holds for you one guarantee: you'll always have me."

The tears glistened on Miranda Joy's face as she swayed automatically to the music. It seemed strange to her now that she had been worried about this moment, that she had thought she would feel self-conscious with so many people watching her. But the instant she had begun dancing with her son, she forgot about the people at the reception and embraced the moment.

To be honest, the whole day had been draining for her. Watching her only son marry was tougher than she'd ever expected. Miranda Joy liked her new daughter-in-law. They had met on several occasions and she seemed to be an excellent person that really loved her son. But now that the moment was here, an apprehension had grown in Miranda Joy and she was no longer at ease with the idea of giving her son to this woman.

So when the time for the mother-son dance had come, Miranda Joy was eager to have this moment with her son. And he was beaming. She had never seen him so blissful and content. She felt as if there was something that needed to be said in this moment. Some piece of sage advice or loving anecdote to share before sending her son off to be a husband. But she was too full of anxiety to offer such.

The music played and Miranda Joy tried not to get tears on her son's tuxedo.

where i wanna be

"I'm not saying I'm gone but I have to find what life is like without you."

He was 25 years old. Four months away from his 26th birthday. And today Corey woke up to an unsettling thought. He was still with his high school sweetheart.

High school had been great. He met Vanessa in a chemistry class. They were lab partners and it didn't take long for that fateful pairing to become a romance. And it was the quintessential high school relationship. They fought hard and loved hard, with so much passion on the surface it was hard to take sometimes.

College had been hard. Vanessa had gone to an elite college in Connecticut. Corey went to a large state school in Florida. To be honest, their had been infidelities on their parts. The stress of Vanessa's school and the party environment of Corey's college had led them both astray. They had been off and on through all four years. But they always came back to each other and by their senior year, they were back together and in a good place.

Corey took a job at an accounting firm in New York. Vanessa began a pre-med program in New York. They lived together in a spacious Brooklyn loft. Vanessa was starting to get that "time for a ring" look which hadn't bothered Corey because their life together was going well. Until this morning when Corey woke up with the unsettling thought that he couldn't believe he was still with Vanessa.

untouchable

"I'm reaching out and I just can't tell you why."

It felt like being lost. He was in a chair, in a hallway. That much he knew. He could see sun shining through an open window at the end of the hall. The thought suddenly came to him that he liked sunny days. He looked eagerly at the window for just one second, but the cloud of confusion he was under was overwhelming. So he continued to sit.

Otis. The name came to him and he was almost sure it was his name. Otis. It was a good name. Reliable, masculine, hardworking man's name. So Otis sat in his chair searching for a memory. How did he get here? And where is here? He closed his eyes tried to remember, but there was just fragments of childhood. Climbing trees, eating supper at a large table busy with lots of kids, sitting in a classroom, playing football with a beat-up, practically flat football. He opened his eyes. These were not the hands of a child. These hands were old, worn from time and hard work.

Then there she was. A beautiful woman. Thick, silky gray hair. Dressed well, with an energy that defied her age. And she looked directly at him and called his name. Otis. Yes, that was his name. The woman knew him.

She came and sat in a chair beside him. She talked about things he didn't know. People whose names were unfamiliar. She showed him pictures of young kids. Someone else's grandkids. He held one picture for a long time. That kid looked so much like himself in the fragmented childhood he was trying desperately to hold onto.

But there was her. Everything about her seemed familiar. The urge to caress her hair and hold her hand was strong, but she would think he was crazy. She seemed so familiar. He could imagine her younger. Making dinner in a kitchen surrounded by kids. Kissing him quickly on his way out the door to work. He felt connected to her. Like he had known her all his life. This must be love at first sight.

Then she was leaving, though it seemed she had just gotten here. She kissed him on the cheek, squeezed his hand gently, and was gone.

He was in a chair, in a hallway. That was all he knew. The sun was shining through an open window at the end of the hall. The memory of a young boy standing happily in the sunshine on a summer's day fleeted by. And the image came to him of a young woman kissing her husband on his way to work in the morning. He smiled.

all you wanted

"I didn't know that it was so cold and you needed someone to show you the way."

There once was a little girl. And I do mean little. Although she was nearly sixteen years old, she was barely five feet tall and didn't even weigh a hundred pounds. She was a quiet girl, thoughtful, intelligent and full of wit. She lived in an old, creaky house out in the country with her mother, her father, and her baby brother.

This house was old. And creaky. It was built before modern luxuries like electricity and indoor plumbing were commonplace this far out in the country. So the after-the-fact wiring was shoddy and the plumbing was loud.

One cold, windy winter the day, the little girl was at home with her baby brother and the lights went out. Inexplicably taking the radiator with it. The little girl knew that the house would be freezing in a few hours (thank goodness for weather proofing). She needed to get a fire going in the large fireplaces that adorned nearly every room in the old, creaky house. The little girl put her baby brother in his quilted outerwear, put him down in his crib, and grabbed her father's big axe and wood splitter.

About two hundred feet from the back door of the old, creaky house were stacks of large wood. That would needed to be chopped before it could be burnt. So the little girl set to it. She chopped and chopped, until her little body was exhausted. She decided to sit down for just a moment. The little girl sat on the large tree stump she had been using as a chopping base. She rested her head back onto the high wooden fence the wood was stacked up against. And as one might expect dozed off right there in a matter of seconds.

The little girl sat there asleep. Her dreams slowly turned from trudging in stacks of wood across a snowy field to sitting on the sand beside a beach with the sun warming her back. But her beach dream was interrupted. There was suddenly a boy there, maybe five years old. A boy whose face looked so familiar though she couldn't quite place where she knew him. And he grabbed her hand and began pulling her away from the sun. His hand was so cold.

The little girl grudgingly began to stir on her tree stump as the boy in her dreams pulled her farther away from that warm beach sun. She woke with the sudden realization of how cold she was. Her fingers and toes were numb. And when she tried to get up, her whole body ached of cold. The little girl clumsily grabbed as many pieces of wood as her nearly useless hands could maneuver. The walk to the house was torturous but she finally made it.

As the time went on, her baby brother grew. And as the time went on, a sense of deja vu would sweep over the little girl when she looked at his little aging face. Tragedy struck when he was five, and her brother died in a car accident. As the little girl, now twenty years old but still just as small as before, looked into the little coffin her brother lay in at his funeral she could not believe her eyes. She suddenly realized that there lay the boy from all those years ago that dragged her back to life in her dream.

"So I took your hand and we figured out that when the tide comes I'd take you away."

rock star

"I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame. I'd even cut my hair and change my name."

With a name like Ocean, she must have been destined for fame.

This was the familiar thought in Ocean's mind as she hazily opened her eyes. She should have been afraid, as the blur of her vision eased and she realized she didn't know where she was. But Ocean was used to it. Waking up in strange places had been her life for the past seven years, even before the drugs.

It took her a minute longer to fully process that she was in a hospital room. Ocean tried to sit up but found that she was shackled to the bed. And not with the soft, padded restraints she'd been placed under a half dozen times. She was handcuffed to the bed by cold, steel, police-issue handcuffs.

The police. A proper dose of panic finally set in on Ocean. She couldn't be arrested by the police. If word got out, she would lose the shampoo endorsement she just got before the ink was dry on the contract. Not to mention the big comeback album she and her manager had been promoting would be destroyed.

Then the feeling began to creep into Ocean. It was slight, but she recognized it immediately. She needed a fix. Thoughts of her imploding fame and untimely arrest got pushed to the back of her mind. She needed a fix.

By the time the nurse came in ten minutes later, Ocean was frantic. She felt the early stages of withdrawal creeping in and was desperate to avoid them. A police officer followed the nurse in. And behind the officer was her manager Tim and her mother. Her mother! Ocean knew it was over.

The officer informed her she was being charged with several misdemeanors. Her manager informed her that the news of her arrest had hit the air nearly two hours ago. Her mother informed her that she had just had her involuntarily admitted to the hospital's rehabilitation program and was petitioning for power of attorney.

So it was over. The fame. The drugs. Her life as she knew it. How could she have let things get here? How could she not have been able to handle it? After all, she was Ocean. She had been destined for fame.

unthinkable

"It's becoming something that's impossible to ignore."

She had been avoiding mirrors lately. The only mirror that Rhea allowed herself to was the medicine cabinet mirror in the bathroom. Her view of herself was limited to the shoulders and above. So every morning she would check her hair and make-up only before heading to the bus stop. No primping in front of the full body mirror in the hallway. Rhea wondered if her mom was becoming suspicious, but she couldn't bear to look in that mirror.

The signs were obvious to her. The ten pound weight gain, the fuller boobs, the glowing skin, the slightly protruding belly that could not be sucked in. And of course Rhea knew it had been three months since Noah's condom broke, three months since her last period.

Noah. He might be slightly more panicked than her, which she found oddly comforting. Rhea was no fool. She watched the shows on TV about teen pregnancies. She knew the chances of Noah sticking around and really being there for this baby were minute. But right now there was hope that he would, so Rhea held onto that.

Soon everyone would know. Rhea was running out of loose clothes she could wear and get away with without question. And even those "loose" clothes were becoming snug. In a month there would be no denying. Rhea was a skinny girl so any weight gain stood out.

So today she took the first step and told her two best friends. Rhea knew she would need them by her side when she finally worked up the nerve to tell her parents.

get to know ya

"Brothers were trying to get in your trousers. I was just trying to get into you."

The text message was from Nona. He knew that before he even looked. After all, it was a Friday night. It was starting to get late and he was sure that whatever club she was at must be close to closing.

Oz intended to not answer the phone. Nona could think he was too busy, already occupied with another girl for the night. So he let the phone sit, which lasted all of two minutes. In those two minutes, images of Nona looking at him with those wise, eager brown eyes, her in the short dress and sky high heels she was undoubtedly wearing tonight, and her finding some other guy on her list to go home with.

Oz felt little comfort knowing he was at the top of Nona's list. In fact, it slightly disgusted him and greatly frustrated him. He hadn't intended to be on any list. He didn't want her to have a list. Oz wanted it to be just him. Just him and Nona.

He had adored her for months. They had the same circle of friends and he saw her all the times. Clubs, house parties, dinners, movie nights, receptions, happy hours. They would talk briefly, Nona would smile at him. She was so intelligent and thoughtful. He absolutely adored her. Oz found himself thinking of her and smiling long after he last saw her. So when she finally showed some interest in him, he jumped at the chance.

However, it became obvious quickly that the affection Oz felt for Nona was only reciprocated as a sexual attraction she felt for him. She would text him late at night to "visit". As the arrangement kept going, she began to barely even acknowledge him at social events. Oz would resolve himself that this whole sex relationship had to end. That he would confront her and demand that either they actually date or be nothing at all.

But then he would get that familiar text message on a late night. And the images would pop in his head. And the only thing Oz couldn't bear more than Nona using him for sex were the ideas of her with someone else and of him without her in his life at all.

Oz picked up the phone and sent a message back saying he'd leave the door open for her.

tell me it's real

"If you and I were meant to be, you would know. It would show by the end of the song."

It was apparent to Raven that the party was about to end. The servers had stopped restocking the food platters, the coat check line was getting long, and the DJ was only playing slow tunes. For Raven, this was one of the best Halloween parties she'd attended, at least since turning 25. Most people were in costume. The decorations were spirited but not over the top. There were no weird "bobbing for apples" type of activities. She was having a great time.

The DJ started playing one of her favorite songs. A slow, bluesy tune at least a decade old. Raven subconsciously started swaying to the song, which must have been the invitation for the unknown man to take her hand. The guy held her hand firmly and led her onto the dance floor. A small rush of excitement filled Raven when the man started dancing with her, but she brushed the feeling aside. After all she had a few glasses of wine in her and this was a great song.

But as the dance continued, Raven couldn't help but to let that feeling of excitement rush back inside. By midway through the song, her feet were tingling, her heart was racing. Raven finally stopped fighting the feeling, moved in closer to the man, and rested her head on his shoulder. The man immediately wrapped his arms tighter around her. Raven was surprised yet pleased to find that his heart was racing to.

And so they danced. The song didn't seem long enough. It seemed to end unexpectedly to Raven, even though she knew the song so well. She didn't want to let go of this man but without music there was no reason to cling to him. She stepped back and looked up into a pair of warm eyes. She imagined the passion she found there was probably a mirror of her own.

Raven didn't know his name, or what he did, or where he was from, or what kind of life he had led. But she knew something beautiful was about to happen.

ever the same

"You were holding me like someone broken. And I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now, just let me hold you while you're falling apart."

Everything was just she had imagined it would be. Blue and white streamers were draped across the room. Matching balloons clung close to the high ceiling. Music poured through the old sound system. A table on one side with punch and snacks. Really this reunion was just like their senior year winter dance except they were all old now.

But there was one thing Leah was looking for that she hadn't found yet. Donnie Ericson. The boy who saved her life. Leah doubted if he knew he had saved her. To him it was probably just some random night after a football game, a night where he consoled a girl crying by the bleachers. But it had meant so much to her.

She had always felt alone. She had been that girl. The popular, pretty cheerleader. Always surrounded by the other popular people and the wannabe popular people. In fact she had not even known Donnie's name that night. It took nearly a week for one of the wannabes to scrounge it up for her. But it was the classic high school tale. The popular crowd is made up of just as many lonely, insecure, sad teenagers as any other group was in high school. Leah was no exception.

But that night, Leah hadn't been able to hold the pretense of happy up. Her parents were fighting, her little sister was in the hospital again, and her big brother was nowhere to be found, probably strung out in some back alley. It was simply too much and she had hidden out on the side of the bleachers during halftime to cry.

Then there was Donnie. Who did nothing more than take her to a quiet spot under the bleacher, hold her hand, and listen as she blabbed on about all her problems at home. He barely said a word and when halftime was over, he stood her up and sent her on her way with one message: "I know you're strong enough for this."

Years had gone by and many things had happened, some amazing and some horrific. But those words echoed in her mind constantly, and Leah was strong. And when had weak moments, moments where she broke down and cried, she always imagined Donnie was there holding her hand.

So Leah searched the crowd for Donnie Ericson. She had been waiting for this day for years. Then, just as suddenly as he had appeared that night ten years ago, Leah looked to her side and there he was. Standing beside her as if he had always been there, as if he fit there. Her words failed her, so she reached out and held his hand as the happiest tears she'd ever felt streamed down her face.

human nature

"If this town is just an apple, then let me take a bite."

There were those that came with disillusioned hope. Dreams of starring in Broadway's biggest acts. Visions of walking runways during Fashion Week. These were the ones distracted by the bright lights and lost into the neverending night. But this was not to be the story of Jordan Hill.

Jordan left his home, a small town in North Carolina, to move to New York. He came for more than the glitz though. He found a small loft for rent in Brooklyn. He had a view of Manhattan across the bridge. His neighborhood was filled with interesting people, a diversity that went far beyond something as predictable as race.

He secured a job as a paralegal at a top law firm before he came, due mainly to a glowing recommendation from his previous boss, a partner at a small but respected firm in Raleigh. He worked long hours in Manhattan. Jordan relished the work and even started looking into local law schools.

But Jordan really came for something he could never get in North Carolina. He spent his free time hanging out in Central Park, seeing plays and shows throughout the city, dining at a different restaurant and cafe whenever he could. He came to simply live a life he couldn't back home. The exposure to so many cultures of people. The opportunity to see and hear and do almost anything he could imagine. The fast pace of the city that made him feel more alive than he ever had before.

Jordan didn't come here with dreams of making it big. He didn't come with plans to live up the night life. He didn't even come with hopes of living the posh life on the Upper East Side. Jordan's arrival in New York had been the plan, had brought him hope, and was already more than he could have ever dreamed.

save the best for last

"It's not the way I hoped or how I planned, but somehow its enough."

Her decision had been made. Janet had sat on the bed, staring into the bathroom for hours. She could see the test stick on the counter and knew what it indicated. She was pregnant.

It wasn't the right time. Janet was in her first year of an MBA program. It had been such a struggle to decide what she wanted to do with her life. Once she had realized she wanted to work in business and hopefully start her own, she had worked diligently to get into one of the best MBA programs in the country. And these first three months had been challenging and time consuming.

It wasn't the right guy. Walker was a classmate that she had been paired up with the first day of one of her classes. Their task had been to create a fake business from the ground up. After only two weeks working together, they became intimate. Walker wasn't even her type. It seemed more a hook-up of convenience and duress from all the stress than some irresistible love connection.

Janet had always dreamed of having children. She could imagine herself in a beautiful house. With a husband, two kids and a dog. But she wanted those things first. A husband, a house, a career, some financial security. Still she had made a decision. And once made, there was no room for regret or doubt.

roses

"Cause with my family, we know where home is. So instead of bringing flowers, we the roses."

There they were. Betsy, Darlene, and Little Ann. Betsy was the oldest. And she had always been the busiest. Today she was in her usual pattern of directing then doing. She would literally go tell you to stir the cake batter and then 30 seconds later come take the bowl right out of your hand and stir it herself.

Darlene was the middle child yet somehow had managed to be the star of the family. She was always certain to be the center of attention. Today she was talking endlessly about the tiff she'd had at the grocery store last week with one of the stock boys. And as usual was busy making herself look busy, but not really doing much.

Little Ann was the youngest, hence the "Little". She was a quiet, gentle soul. She never complained and always smiled, an amazing feat with these sisters. Today she was vigorously peeling potatoes and patiently nodding to Darlene's long-winded tale.

My aunts. My dad's sisters. He had been the oldest of all, and he often talked about how he had helped raise them all after their father died. Dad was only 15 years old. Me and Dad were kind of alike in that sense. Except my mom left us when I was 13. Today he sat in the living room with the aunts' husbands, watching some predictable old movie. Probably Shaft or something Pam Grier related.

And there were more. There were cousins and baby cousins out in the backyard and all through the house. My little brother had just called to tell me when his bus arrived. I came in with my arms full for my aunts. Needed items from the grocery store that I had to stop at before driving my rental car to the house.

Today everything seemed normal. We were all in our usual patterns. But everything was about to change because Little Ann's husband had been diagnosed with a terminal cancer. His first treatment was tomorrow and we knew they both needed us.

gotta figure this out

"Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming in color."

These are beautiful places and magical lands

Grass grows a brilliant violet
And they imagine themselves running through fields barefoot
Until the soles of their feet match the grass

Trees walk with them, hand in branch
Telling stories of times long forgotten
The sagas of the heroic and the lyrics of epic love
And the leaves turn gold and orange but never fall

The sun always shines
Red hot during the day so they can eat ice cream
Bright blue at night so the monsters stay in the closet
While stars blaze blue like the sun and almost close enough to reach

Yet their dream always ends
Sudden gray clouds warn them that their little bodies have betrayed them with waking
And they wake to a world that their pain keeps black and white
Where each has their own, very real monster

come in with the rain

"And I, I've got you down. I know you by heart. And you don't even know where I start."

It was clear even to a stranger. A person walking down a crowded street could have looked at Bianca and Joe and could have known what somehow eluded Bianca. That while she adored him, he barely even acknowledged she was there.

In restaurants, Bianca would lean in to him, eager to talk, and he would lean back. Joe would take her to sports bars, where he could avoid her under the guise of a football game. Every chance he had, he was checking out other girls.

When they hung out with friends, the two would come together but Joe would always separate from her. He would spend his time chatting with his friends. When Bianca would approach him, he barely looked up and would only grumble a meaningless response.
Even when they were alone, Joe would chatter on about his day or his problems but never ask about hers. When Bianca tried to talk, he would find a way to bring the conversation back around to him or end it all together.

Yet Bianca appeared oblivious. Completely unaware of how little Joe cared. But there was a truth a stranger could never know. Joe cared but didn't know how to show it. He had never been in a relationship and didn't realize there was more to it than just showing up. And Bianca was aware of how Joe treated her. She was trying to be patient but was close to giving up on him.

Maybe a stranger should have pulled Joe aside...

iris

"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming."

Marty held his mother's hand tightly as the reverend began to speak. He had known Rev. Johns his whole life and had been going to this church nearly every Sunday since he was a little boy. Marty had heard countless sermons, about faith and hope and forgiveness and perseverance. It seemed so strange now for Rev. Johns to speak about his father.

There was talk of how he loved his family, his wife Martha and their two sons Matthew and Martin. Even that seemed strange. He couldn't ever remember Rev. Johns calling him Martin, not Marty. But this was a serious moment, so nicknames must be inappropriate.

Marty sat quietly as the reverend bellowed into the microphone about his father. He had always hated the fact that he grew up in a small town, but now their was a small comfort in knowing that everyone in the church had known his father, that the church was filled with support.
Yet he was eager for the service to end. For the casket to be in the ground. For the baskets of muffins and casserole dishes to stop coming. Marty felt like he couldn't breath. Everyday since his father had been hospitalised three weeks ago, he felt like he had been struggling for air. A drowning feeling. He was desperate to be rid of this feeling, to breakdown like his mother and grandmother had. Instead he felt empty. He was embarrassed by his stoic demeanor and paranoid that people would think he didn't love his father.

Marty glanced across his mother and saw his brother gripping her hand tightly and sobbing. His strong, brave brother that he had never seen cry was weeping. And he was more jealous than he was surprised.

"Or the moment the truth in you lies."

Matthew found himself quietly sobbing and hoped no one noticed. Of course what were the chances of that. He was on the front pew of his family church. Rev. Johns was at the podium talking about his father. All eyes were on this pew. The nosy neighbors watching every move and moment of anguish coming from his family.

Matthew sat between his mother and grandmother. He was holding their hands and had determined to be strong through the service. After all, he had had his breakdown. He cried for an hour in his bedroom two days after his father died. He had been so melodramatic. Sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his father's favorite baseball cap. And weeping like a seven year old.

And then there was the hospital. He had cried right before his father died. He been summoned to his father's bedside. Matthew had presumed it would be a "getting affairs in order" type discussion. Where the will was, what kind of service was wanted, life insurance policy information, etc. But it wasn't. His father had called him for a whole other, unexpected, and terrible reason. His father wanted to die. His father wanted Matthew, his eldest son, to kill him. To walk to the machines that kept him alive and stop them.

They had argued. Matthew was surprised to see how much fight the man had in him, which made killing him even harder. Matthew had tried every argument he could think of: moral, legal, practical, and the desperate. But his father's tears, anguish, and own desperation won out. He hugged his father, kissed his pale forehead gingerly, and turned off the machine helping his father pump his heart. His father was gone in less than five minutes, but Matthew gave it an extra 2 minutes before turning the machine back on and summonning the nurses. When they came in the room, they gave him knowing looks.

Matthew had been strong. Finding his family in the waiting area and delivering the news. Planning the funeral. Picking up relatives from the airport. He and Marty had stood strong for a week. In fact, he was proud of this unexpected strength in his little brother.

But the guilt had settled in on Matthew at the service. His unknown role he had played in bringing everyone here was suddenly an overwhelming burden. He felt angry at his father for making the request, horrified at himself for complying, paranoid that somehow everyone knew, and just generally nauseous. It didn't really matter that he knew it was the right thing to do, it was painful.

the remedy

"There's no need to hurry when I'm making up my mind."

Phil sat on a bench near the walking trail. He had a view of small lake with little children gingerly throwing pieces of bread towards the ducks under their parents watchful eyes. He could saw joggers rushing by, couples strolling hand in hand, and friends talking. All those things made a picturesque view, but they were inconsequential to Phil. He wasn't really taking the beautiful scenery or the quiet moments. He was thinking. Thinking about the sudden turn his life had made and what his next move should be. He was alone, and angry, and frustrated. And although in the back of his mind he knew that people get laid off every day. Thousands every year. But he felt so wronged, so unjustly chosen to be a part of the unemployed. So he sat in that park, thinking of how to explain this to his wife. How to pay next month's mortgage. How to buy his son the bike he had promised him. Where to find a new job.

And that was the point that was nagging at him most. A new job. Despite the fear and anger, Phil couldn't help but feel the smallest tinge of hope. He had complained about his job for years. A dead-end job. An unchallenging job. An uninspiring job. And now there was this moment where he didn't have that job. He had no choice but to try to find something different, something better. So he sat on that bench. He sat there until all the children went home, the joggers retired, and the only light was from the moon. Then he too went home. He had spent hours on that bench, but with time came more clarity. He was going to find a new job, and he had a plan. This time he was going to get the career he had always wanted.

maybe

"I should know better than to touch the fire twice."

If she hadn't known who he was, it would have been like a fairytale. A modern, urban fairytale set in a night club with a mini-skirted, smokey-eyed princess and a brandy-sipping prince with a goatee. But it was Harley's little fairytale. Her in the club with all her girls. Having a great time, looking fantastic. A great song playing in the background. And then catching eyes with a guy across the room. Not just any guy, THAT guy. The one with swagger reverberating across the room, the one with style and sophistication, the one that made Harley blush a little just by looking at him.

The moment came. Three of her favorite friends by her side. Sporting her new Bebe dress which complimented every curve and sleek line the past six weeks at the gym had given her. One of her favorite old school Jay-Z songs blasting. And in her casual glance around the room while sipping her martini, she caught his eye. Except that it wasn't THAT guy. It was her guy, her old guy. Lewis.

Harley and Lewis were a legend in their circles. They'd been falling in and out of each other's lives since high school, never really dating but always a little more than just friends. That is until the last time. The last time they took the leap. They had a passionate, some would say epic, relationship that lasted nearly two years. Then somehow they'd fallen out of love with each other. Harley remembered the feeling well. That one day she had woken up beside him, looked at him, and knew that the passion was gone. She had imagined it was the same for him.

Of course, Harley knew more than her friends on the outside did. That the end wasn't quite as sudden as she liked to believe. There had been arguments and silence and distrust and anger. There had been hurt feelings and vindictive actions on both of their parts. And when it had finally officially ended, they both decided it was for the best. That their passion was too strong and could lead to nothing but this bitter conclusion.

Honestly, Harley hadn't really thought much about it. Sure, there had been the usual moping time period, then the rebound time period, then the moving on period. She was done with all that and had not thought much about Lewis in the past year. So it surprised her how quickly that original passion stirred in her when she saw him from across the room. How her body seemed to react to him, urging her to move towards him. The memories came back, but somehow only the good. She remembered the way he smelled, the feel of his hand in hers, the taste of him even.

Harley stood, she smiled and Lewis smiled back. She finished off her martini swiftly, took a deep breath, and began to make her way toward him.

little red corvette

"I guess I should've known by the way you parked your car sideways that it wouldn't last."

Julian Ashland. His car was shiny. And so fast. And the only thing smoother than the ride in that car was him. He was that guy. You know, that guy you see in all those teeny bopper movies. The hero. The guy that comes into a room and everyone knows his name and wants to be seen with him. The guy that the girls would mud wrestle for in front of their grannies just to hold his hand. Julian Ashland.

The first time he spoke to me, I could have died. Like right there in the hallway at school. Could've missed science lab, been wheeled to the nurse's office, and awoken with satisfaction at just being talked to by Julian Ashland. But somehow I did not faint. From some ancestral strength deep in my soul, I smiled. We spoke about science lab and parties. About the latest rumors and the most hated teachers. It was only ten minutes, but it was great. I was coherent. I flirted and spoke in full sentences. And I found it easier to talk to him than I would have ever imagined.

The next day he was there again. More with the small talk and the flirting. But today he ended the conversation with an invitation to a movie. Again, I thought of fainting but found my knees were stronger than tree trunks. And I stood, I smiled, and said yes.

Things went from there. Nothing immediately epic like you read in the books but a consistent stream of dates, phone calls, hanging out, locker rendezvous. I was dating Julian Ashland. It was a beautiful time. Our conversations moved from general high school blues to our post-college hopes. Our time together became more intense and simultaneously more comfortable. It was a spectacularly easy, beautiful time.

And as quick and unexpected as it came, it went. He was there and then he was gone. The locker visits ended. The phone conversations were brief and tense. Dates were cancelled with an endless stream of excuses.

I imagine its the feeling one has when trying to catch a fish in an open stream. The solemn quiet while waiting, still and stiff, for a fish to come your way. The joy of finding a fish finally swimming into your hands. The battle of remaining calm enough to try to pull the fish out to face and being strong enough to hold the squirming fish in your hands. The triumph of thinking you've got a good hold on that fish. And the bitter, blinding disappointment when it slips through your hands.

But you should've known. After all that damned fish did have the advantage.

Julian Ashland. I think I'm past it now. The ride was great. The memory is perfect. Looking back, there was no real good reason why it should have started which makes it easier to accept how it ended.

uninvited

"Must be strangely exciting to watch the stoic squirm."

The lights in the room began to dim. And as the lights softened, so did the crowd. The laughter, the clinking of glasses, the polite interruptions of waitresses all turned into a soft hum. Almost like the constant yet comforting sound of a clothes dryer. The crowd was eager and strained to see beyond the sudden darkness to the stage. Almost silent happenings were occurring onstage. Silhouttes of people walking. The sound of stilettos trying to tiptoe into position.

Then as suddenly as the lights went down, the stage lit up. On it sat three girls in was assumedly expensive, overtly arousing outfits. A brunette with long wavy hair wearing a black jumpsuit that looked more like a second skin than an actual layer of clothing. Another brunette, this one with a sleek bob, in a barely there mini skirt and silk cami. A blond whose hair was more than halfway down her back in tight capris and a literally breathtaking corset. Three girls straddling three chairs.

And the hush deepened in the crowd. The waitresses stopped serving and themselves sat to watch the show. Drinks were nursed in effort to keep focus on the show. The women sang. They danced. Eventually they disrobed. There were some in the crowd nearly salivating by the end. Some were clearly aroused and ready to go home to their own lovers.

Then there were the ashamed few. The prude newcomers. The people's whose friend or significant other or sibling or co-worker had pushed them to come. The people who were suddenly faced with a sexuality they had run from their entire lives. The people who found their own deep-seated belief that shows were exploitation of women being overtaken by their own suppressed sexual desire. When the show ended, those people sat transfixed and embarrassed. They were frozen by their internal conflict. They were confused and disgusted by their enjoyment. They were unwilling to face the people they came with. But most of all, those people found themselves reluctant to get up in case they missed the encore.

look after you

"If ever there was a doubt, my love she leans into me. 'This most assuredly counts,' she says most assuredly."

Michael was leaving today. It was odd how Daniella had known this day was coming for weeks but was still surprised. She was there with him when he interviewed and then chose a renter. She helped him box up belongings. Yet, the day had come, the moment was here, and Daniella wasn't prepared. In fact, she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or applaud or hide. Logically, she knew this was the opportunity of a lifetime for Michael. He had to take it. He had to go. But it seemed completely insane to her that he would no longer be there everyday.

In the end, Daniella decided to applaud. After all, she loved him. She loved his passion, and respected his need to embrace those things he had passion for. And no matter how he felt for her, she knew she would never be his only passion. More importantly, she didn't want to be. Daniella adored every crook and cranny of this man.

So, here they were. At the moment of departure. Michael's car was packed. The keys had been transferred. Every part of Daniella was aching. Yet while she was unsure of when this ache would end, of how this distance would affect their relationship, of what tomorrow would be like without the love of her life, she knew one thing for sure. Daniella knew that this was the right choice for Michael. That this was his opportunity, his moment to finally shine. So she hugged him. She told him she loved him. She wiped his tears away, kissed his face. She put her hand on his heart. She told him she loved him, opened his car door, and wished him a safe drive. And because she was calm, he was calm. Because she was happy for him, he was at ease to leave.

Daniella watched Michael drive off. She smiled and waved like any good woman would do. And when his car turned the corner and could no longer be seen, Daniella sat heavily on the curb where his car was just parked, put her face in her hands, and cried.

i wanna know

“I wish that I could take a journey through your mind and find emotions that you always try to hide.”

Archer saw her hiding before she even knew she was. They had been fighting. A vehement argument. The kind that, upon climax, ends in either passionate intimacy or days of silence. As the fight had escalated, Archer was sure this was one that would end passionately. Although he hid it from Lana, his anger had already subsided and he was more than ready to move on to the make-up part of the game.

Then he saw her hide. He was so caught up in the motions of the fight that he truly wasn’t even sure what he had said. Archer thought but he couldn’t find his words, whatever painful chord of truth he had struck in Lana. But he saw her face. The brief moment where the surprise and pain and shame and disappointment shook her, the moment her façade immediately faltered and she was more vulnerable than he had ever seen.

Archer stepped towards her. He wanted nothing more to comfort her, fight or sex be damned. But the moment had passed and now she was hiding. Her face was no longer angry from the fight. And what was most carefully hidden was that flash of vulnerability. It had vanished, and had taken Lana with it. True, she was standing there in front of him. Her face was poised, her stance confident, her voice steady. Too poised, too confident, too steady. She wasn’t fighting anymore. She had retreated to some safe, inner place. A place Archer desperately wanted to touch, to see, to hold and comfort, but a place which he was strictly forbade.

So this fight ended in silence. A silence that Archer knew would end in a few days. But this silence would be different than the ones before. This one came with the unsettling realization for Archer that there was a broken part of Lana. A part that she wasn’t ready to fix, or to even take the first step towards fixing by sharing. A broken part that planted a seed of doubt in Archer about he and Lana’s relationship. And Archer wasn’t sure if he could or should ignore it.