T.L. Gray's Blog, page 28

Where, Oh Where?

I had a dream last night that I was on Earth in the Destiny game, only I wasn’t my avatar, EviL Kovthe, I was me – I had no weapons, no armor, no clan (We Are Immortal Gods) beside me to protect me. I was in the treasure room just outside of Devil’s Lair.

Walking around, not worried that Dregs, Shanks, Knights, or evil Servitors were going to kill me, I took my time to admire the treasure. I picked up handfuls of gold, precious stones, and then lastly - a crown. It was the tiara that got me and turned my dream from something adventurous to something dark.

The jewel-studded headpiece reminded me of the lessons I taught a few years ago on Hagar, Leah, and Abigale… and the huge change in my life when I realized I was the same as these great unloved women. This deeply researched lesson changed my whole life. It was the foundation for the decisions I made to seek out something better for myself. I reached out to change my stars, but I haven’t really changed them at all.

I positioned myself to be free, and I essentially am. I can go anywhere, live anywhere, and do anything. I’m not saying making any of those decisions wouldn’t take hard work, a lot of sacrifice, and come with a great deal of difficulty… on the contrary, I expect any decision I make will be fraught with them. All of life is hard. I’ve already overcome so many obstacles, why would I ever believe that I’m done? (LOL – “I’m done”… that’s become one of my favorite phrases now. It’s something every member of my clan says regularly.)

So, why haven’t I moved, why haven’t I left? Why am I dreaming of standing in the Devil’s Lair holding a tiara? That question has been plaguing me all morning. As I was brushing my hair, getting ready for work, that’s what I asked the reflection smiling back at me in the mirror, “Why haven’t you made a move?”

It’s simple: I don’t know where to go.

I’ve learned a lot of important lessons in this life. I’ve learned that stuff doesn’t matter, everything can be replaced, and what can’t be replaced, can be altered or modified. Things are nice. I.e. – I love my XBoxOne. I love Destiny. But it isn’t the game system or even the game I love (though the game is awesome), but what they enable that I love most – interaction with my son, my friends, and my clan.

Spending time playing games together with my son Johnathan – that’s our special time, that’s how we bond with one another, it’s how we share our lives. Working and watching football games with his dad is their thing – and playing video games, sharing music, and playing poker together… that’s ours. It’s the sharing of our lives that’s important, not the stuff or even the activities. With my daughter Kelly, it’s playing cards and visiting Atlanta. With my daughter Meagan, it’s sharing books.

I’ve learned that success, position, fame, and money can be gained and lost, and none of it really brings you happiness. The happiness is in the pursuit or the sharing of those milestones. Yes, my college degree opens Doors of Opportunity, but it’s the journey that means something. When I got my degree – I was alone. I had no one to share the celebration with, well, not till later that night when my soldier showed up unexpectedly. But then he went off and died and left me alone again. When my book hit the best sellers list, even if it was short-lived, I was once again alone. All my friends that meant the world to me literally lived in different places all around the country– but were not there with me to share that moment. When I left my husband, I’ve really learned what it means to be truly alone.

Here I am about to face one of the most difficult journeys of my life – and I’m once again alone. I have dear friends who support me, who love me, who worry about me, and who are there for me emotionally as I face these battles… but they’re not beside me. I’m in that damned treasure room all by myself.

My gaming clan is reminding me of so many things. Most of all, they’re reminding me what’s important in life. They’re reminding me to laugh, to have fun, to be open to make new friends… but they’re also teaching me the importance of bonds, of trust, of camaraderie, of having someone’s back, helping each other out, being there – not just in thought – but being right beside each other as we fight our battles. For much of the game I’ve tried to go it all alone (it’s my thing – it’s what I do… in life and in fun). But, this game wasn’t created to play alone. (What’s funny… that was told to me by someone who spends more time alone than anyone I’ve ever met.)

What my clan does together is amazing. I’m so glad I’m in their clan, because I’d never want to go up against them. I wouldn’t stand a chance. But the greatest thing they’re teaching me right now – is that relationships are important, connecting with people, having someone there with you – to share in your journey, your experiences, your laughter, your failures, your play, and your victories. That’s what living is all about.

So, why haven’t I moved? Because I don’t know where to go to really live, to be happy, to be loved. Wherever I can find happiness, joy, and love … that’s where I will go.

I’ve sat across a dinner table at least two dozen times in the last few months on different dates, looking into various sets of beautiful eyes, trying to see hope behind warm smiles, looking for the slightest trace of the place I seek - hoping for a connection, waiting for lightning to strike. I could have a relationship with any one of them, but the types of relationships they were offering didn’t appeal to me. Most of them had me going through a mental checklist where I was constantly saying, “been there… done that.”

The universe has other plans for me, I suppose. It seems, the place for me right now that makes me laugh, makes me happy, makes me feel loved and accepted, and helps distract me from the trials ahead– is in the middle of a bunch of crazy guys I’ve never laid eyes on. They remind me of who and what I am… a woman, a friend, a warrior, a nurturer, a buddy, …a human. What I have, what I don’t have, what I’ve achieved, what I’ve failed, or what I’ve done or haven’t done – doesn’t mean a damned thing to these guys. They don’t want or expect anything from me, yet they welcomed me with opened arms. I love them for that… it’s probably one of the few times in my life I feel loved and accepted just for simply being the smart-mouthed, funny, crazy me.

Where, oh where, do I go right now? Well, as often as I can, I go back to the land of Destiny and among the great men of my clan “We are Immortal Gods” until I’m ready to find a connection face to face with someone.

Till next time,



~EviL Kvothe

We Are Immortal Gods

It’s a rainy, dreary Monday morning, but there’s a part of me – a part deep down inside that still dares to hope for sunshine and rainbows; a part that forces my eyes open when I find myself knocked out again; a part that is stubborn and refuses to just give up. Perhaps it’s my inner goddess.

Most of you know I’ve been playing the game Destiny on my XboxOne lately. Even in a video game I’m being reminded of a lot of things that I needed to remember. Some of those things are:

– what it feels like to be at the bottom when everyone around me seems to have everything mastered. Just because I’m not as skilled doesn’t mean I’m bad.

– what it’s like to feel excited again, playful, sexy, and funny right in the middle of a fierce battle and a group of confident veterans. It’s hard to just be yourself in every situation. Here lately I’ve felt like I’ve had to hide who I am, once again become what was expected of me, instead of just being who I am.

– what’s it like to face impossible odds, knowing I don’t stand a chance, but give it my best , and keep fighting until I reach the end. Being a sore loser isn’t an option. I may not be as skilled NOW, but I’m not a quitter. I’m not a loser because I refuse to quit. I may or may never be the best – but I’m already a winner.

- what it’s like to be reminded there are kind people still in the world.

I met a group of guys from the We are Immortal Gods - clan. Our meeting was by happenstance when Evil Flopic invited me on a raid (which I’m sure everybody else on the team shakes their head at him now for doing - but they should forgive him because he knew not what he was doing). I have a feeling our meeting was not by mistake.

Watching these guys play, listening to how they interact with one another, how they help one another, how they bust each other’s asses, yet how they band together - is so inspiring. There’s a brotherhood with this group of strangers that is so beautiful I often become jealous of their closeness. They’ve been together for years and through many different games. That closeness isn’t a recent event, but one that took years of making.

My heart is overwhelmed at how quickly they accepted me into their clan. And they just didn’t accept me to accept me (they are only a clan of 6 – and have been for a very long time – so it’s not like they’re accepting everybody, because I’ve seen them play with a dozen or more new ‘friends’ but not extend a Clan membership invitation - which makes them accepting me that much more precious).

This clan has spent countless hours with me, bringing me into raids, strikes, and activities that are inconvenient and often a detriment to them. They do it for me – to help me level up, to teach me how to fight. They have patience with me, and grace – because of my inexperience I bring their whole team down and they have to pick up my slack – and in the gaming world points, status, records, awards … are all important.

These are not mild gamers but players at the top of the leader boards. I go on Crucible Control raids with them, and seriously EVERY TIME the members of my clan (I love the sound of that) are at the top of the leaderboard and have the highest kills and k/d ratios. I’m of course (not always, but most of the time) at the bottom of the list. I’m sure I’m the single reason for a few (there have only been a few) of their match losses. But they’re patient with me and never hesitate to invite me along. They smack talk and give me a hard time (I love it) – but they’re also equally encouraging. The running commentary would have your stomach aching from laughing so hard (don’t get Furball started on the 1-death/1-kill record in a Crucible match). If they didn’t pick on me, I wouldn’t think they liked me. Even if they never said a kind or encouraging word, their acts of inviting me along says more to me than they’ll ever know or could ever say.

These guys may never know (because I’m not telling them) how much I needed them at this time in my life. I didn’t know I needed them until I was right in the middle of them. They’ve become my family even if they never know it.

· The leadership and confidence of Wicked Furball is so inspiring and sexy as hell. When I hear him barking orders and watching the rest of the clan jump into action, he reminds me of a soldier leading his platoon. He’s decisive and direct, not to stroke his ego to be in control, but to lead his team to the best possible victory. He doesn’t need any of us and could outplay us all, but he chooses the friendship, the clan, the best interest of his friends over the records. I admire him. I’ve watched others come into our fireteams and try to take control for control’s sake, but Furball is a natural leader, not in an alpha pissing contest way.

· The organization of Evil Floptic is the glue that binds and keeps everyone together (and occasionally he’ll mess up and invite some crazy-ass woman to join them on an impossible raid and expose them all to something they were not expecting. Isn’t that how the Black Plague wiped out 1/3 of the population?)

· Phoenix is my Battle Buddy. He’s always right there with me, covering my ass, checking up on me, hanging back to make sure I don’t get lost, and when I do, he’s the first to come back for me and lead me where I need to go. He ALWAYS asks me what I need first, before letting me know what he needs to work on. I can depend on him and not feel apprehensive to ask him for help, or feel like I’m bothering him if I connect to him, and that is one of the most valuable aspects I admire most.

· ZeroFX AirB SGT – though not a member of the clan, his silent patrol missions are something else.

The guys brought me for the first time into the Vault of Glass raid yesterday. Oh, it was so intense, and I know I caused distraction and more work for them (by not being able to defeat my share of enemies and having to be rescued and revived more often than the rest), but I nearly started crying (which I would never, never, never let these tough guys ever hear me) when I heard every last one of them (6 in the team) tell each other to revive or rescue me at different points during the raid– “Don’t forget about the girl. Go get the girl. Check up on the girl. Where’s the girl? Hey, the girl’s still alive.” With all the chaos going on – this WHOLE group watched out for me and watched over me. I know I’m being such a girl right now – but that says more about THEM than me.

There are other friends I fight with in Destiny that mean a lot to me that are not part of the clan, but I consider them maybe cousins… LOL… xxTrsXShoTxX, PhillyzPhin3st, KILLER RIP 001, JewsDestroy99, Agent Lead, xLastxHero, Carnassis, and others.

Destiny guardians are just another social community of people with similar loves and interests coming together. Much like the wonderful writers I’ve met on Scribophile and Facebook, I’ve now met another branch of the family.

I will end this post in the words of my (I get to say that because I’m part of the clan) fearless clan leader (and I’ve heard the rest of the clan use it as well… ) “I’m done. I’m done, I tell ya. Done!”

Till next time,



~Kvothe09

What Does Your Rockwell Look Like?

I love Norman Rockwell paintings. I think they’re probably some of the best artwork out there, in my opinion. I’m by no means an art expert, but his work NEVER ceases to make me stop, pause, ponder, and feel. Isn’t that the purpose of an artist? I’m an artist too – I paint with words. Sometimes I produce masterpieces, sometimes garbage, most of the time it’s something in between.


Anyway.


How we see the world, how we see truth, how we see each other, how we see nature, science, faith, justice… all these various views stem from who we are, where we are, and what we have, are, or will experience in this life. How I see things today is not how I saw them at 5, or any age in between. The pictures have been colored in more, the lines have become more defined, delicate and broad brush strokes have been added, techniques have been developed and experience has happened. Also, time has moved – aging the older paint, making the fresh paint even more prominent.


I think about death and life. I step back and look at the picture I’ve painted. There are a lot of black and white, sharp images, dark images, but there’s also vibrant colors, soft strokes, and beautiful pastels. But what does the big picture show?


The way Rockwell is able to capture a time, place, feeling, and ideal in his art, you can clearly see the story he’s trying to tell – and it’s a beautiful story. It’s an ideal story, one that I’ve longed for most of my life. In my crazy, mixed up, violent world – I’ve always dreamed of a Rockwell existence. I almost had that kind of world, once. I had all the appearance – the look, the sound, the image, the right job, the right family, the right standing in the community. The only thing missing was real passion and love.


Why are we such cowards? We cling so tightly to our ideals, we miss moments of adding a beautiful stroke of brilliant color to our pictures by being afraid to love one another. We think love makes us weak, but it’s our greatest strength. Love is what makes all the difference. Love is what colors our pictures. I may not live to see tomorrow. Every day is a gift. I don’t want to die alone and unloved, or having missed an opportunity to love someone else. We only get one life. There is no do-over. Paint your life with lots and lots of love – and throw all that other garbage (expectations, philosophies, religion, tradition, rules) out. What does your Rockwell look like?

Happy Veteran's Day

Happy? Is that the right word to use? I’m not sure. When I think of veterans it is not happiness I feel, but awe, respect, deep passion, love, and admiration. Most often the feeling is so much bigger than I can contain, and much more than I can often express.

I know many veterans. I’m not surprised that I’m drawn to them, because they’re beautiful to me. I’ve never worn the uniform, was never married to one, for that matter I’ve never even officially been a girlfriend to anyone who’s worn those colors– but I have loved, love, am loved, and have been loved by veterans.

It’s not surprising that my three best friends in the world, the three people I love and admire most, are soldiers. I can’t imagine my life without either one of them, and I hope I never have to live that reality. They’re my heroes, my inspirations, my muses, my friends. Not for anything particularly they’ve done in service, but for who they are as individuals. One is my heart. One is my conscious. One is my soul.

There was a soldier who once had all three parts of me, but he lost his life in Somalia in 1993. I can’t tell him what he meant to me, how much I admired him, how much I appreciate his service and his sacrifice, his love, his dedication, or his commitment. Somewhere deep inside I’m still waiting on him to come find me. I’m always waiting, even though I know he will never come. One of my best friends says he doesn’t believe there is anything beyond death, beyond this life. I don’t know if that’s true or not, I can’t prove anything. I’ve died twice, and saw nothing, but that doesn’t mean something doesn’t exist. All I know is that deep in my heart I hold a hope and a faith, wrapped in the love I had for my soldier, that love will never die. Love is still alive, even if my soldier is not. I believe it will still live even when I do not any longer. Love is bigger than me, bigger than this body. The love I have for my friends – it’s not just a physical love – but a love that transcends the body, more than something the mind can comprehend, and deeper than the soul can contain.

I can’t tell my lost soldier I love him, but I can tell the soldiers that are still in my life. They’re beautiful to me. I often call them that - Beautiful. I’m not sure they understand why I use that term. It’s not in reference to their looks, appearances, or physical features (they are sexy as hell though), but toward the colorful essence wrapped in admiration I see and feel when I look at them or think about them. It’s beautiful. Why them? I can’t tell you why my heart chose them, there’s no logical reason, it just did. I’ve tried so hard to push them away, to forget about them, to not love them with such a deep love, but I fail in every attempt. I think I try to push them away because I’m so scared I will lose them.

When I tell a veteran “thank you” - it’s not just for them and their service, but through them to all those who have served, are serving, and who’ve never come home. It’s appreciation for the life they’ve voluntarily chosen, to give up their daily freedom for one of structure, rules, regulations, duty and service in order to grant me the freedoms and protections I enjoy. Military life is hard. For many, when they’ve returned home after combat they will find civilian life is complicated and filled with difficulty and struggle to fit into the chaos. Lots of heroes come home to rejection, betrayal, confusion, hardship, disrespect, doubting who they are or the value of their lives. I can’t love them all, but I can love them through my three best friends and the military friends I make along the way – by loving them as much as I can.

I thank God for my veteran friends. You are my heroes, and I’m honored to call you friend. I love you with the deepest love of my heart.

PV2 J. A. Sandlin – thank you for your service and your friendship.

Sgt. J. L. Suwak – thank you, Ranger, for your service and your friendship.

Sgt. T. E. Solano - thank you, Drill Sergeant, for your service and your friendship.

I know many more soldiers, marines, pilots, reservists and sailors… too many to name them all because I’m sure I’d forget one in the mix. Forgive me if I do. M.C. Nannenga, D. Mathis, J.T. Watkins, F.A. Rogers, T. Bucher, G.G. Goad, S.M. McDowell, R. Swanson, B. Cerros, B. Christopher, T. Sharpton, C. Tinsley, J. Byrd, J. Banks, J. Sprunk, M. Lawrence, M. Cole, M. Sullivan, S. Hardegree, P. George, R. Conner, S. Formby, R. Herbster, T. Kervin, Z. Starnes.



Thank you all for your service.  

Beautiful Reflection

Hello, Beautiful.It’s so nice to see your smile.The glow of life and beauty emanates from within you.Shadows lurk all around,Yet golden ambiance surrounds you,Your vivacity cuts through the darkness.In your gaze hope dwells and deep, deep love resides.Rejected. Abandoned. Scarred. These bright hazel beauties often weep.Yet, they hold fast to the radiant tendril of hope.Who dares to directly face their gaze?Who can look upon them and stand before their truth, their passion, their hope?Not many, if one.Only light can stand before the light,For shadows are powerless and retreat into corners in its presence.Oh, Beautiful Reflection – don’t be afraid to shine.You are a bright star, a shining beacon of celestial radiance.It is what you’re meant to do, why you’re made.Don’t be afraid to love.That’s all there is – love.
Without love – there’s nothing but a cold, dead, black hole.

Natural Stupidity

Why are our natural responses always the wrong way to act in a situation? It’s sort of like those stupid people in scary movies always making the wrong decision that would lead to a better chance of survival.

In fear, we run away and hide. When has being alone and where no one can see you, hear you, feel you, or know you’re scared, been the best laid plan? In my mind, I want to cling tightly to those who love me or who I love so they can help me feel safe. Instead, I curl into a tight ball and shut everyone out.

In pain, we pull away and get angry at the ones who only want to help.

In depression, instead of surrounding ourselves with laughter, happy people, or exciting and vigorous physical activities that produce adrenaline and dopamine – we lay around feeling sorry for ourselves, being inactive, eating bad food, and ignoring everybody as we wallow in our depravity.

We’re stupid. Life is too short for all this stupid shit. Yet, here I am pushing away those who love me most, not sharing my pain, not seeking comfort in my fear from those I trust. Instead, I’ve been playing with fire and hating myself for it. I don’t know if it’s some kind of mental defect that causes me to punish myself, by hurting myself with destructive behavior. It’s like I’m trying to make those who love me, hate me, before they choose to hate me on their own – as if me making them hate me would make it any better. They would hate me if they knew how I was hurting myself. I hate me. It’s like I’m on a crusade that declares, “Since I’ll never be good enough to love, I’ll bad enough to hate.”

Yeah, yeah… it’s stupid logic. I’m not trying to justify this type of stupidity. I’m just admitting I’m capable of doing it as much as the next person.

The next time you see someone being destructive and stupid, instead of judging them or get angry at them for playing the game, maybe take a step back and look at them with a different set of eyes. Maybe they’re just scared, or they’re hurt, or they’re fighting battles you don’t understand – and they’re lashing out because they’re in pain. Or maybe they’re just assholes.



It’s easy for us – outside the pain – to just say, “Get over it. Grow up.” It’s a different story when you’re on the inside.

I Dance, I Ditch, I Die

Feel the beat, beneath our feet as the music plays.

You take my hand, I feel the warmth of it as our fingers interlock. But I don’t see them, I’m too busy staring into your eyes, those captivating eyes. They hold me prisoner in their gaze, hypnotized by their intensity. I’m spellbound.

You lead me to the dance floor. I don’t see the other dancers, just you bathed in golden light. Everything else is in shadow. All I can see is your eyes, your smile. We weave through the dancers with agility and grace. You lead. I follow.

We stop in the middle of the dance floor. You circle me, appraising me. Though your eyes are locked on mine, I can tell they see all of me. I’m your prey. You’re the hunter. I long to be devoured.

Your strong hand brushes across the small of my back. I shiver. Your other hand grabs the one hanging by my side. Our fingers lace and you bring my hand to your beautiful lips, brushing their soft, plumpness against the back. It’s like fire licking my skin and dancing upon the hair follicles.

You pull me close and we start to sway back and forth in time to the music. You hold me so tight I can feel your heart beating in your chest. I feel so beautiful, so safe in your arms. Your aroma makes me dizzy. Your warmth makes me melt. Your intense gaze exposes my soul. Your lips snare me, induce me, seduce me.

You dance with me. It’s beautiful. I’m lost. I’m found. I’m scared. I’m safe. I’m alive. I burn. I worship you.

You kiss me, and I cease to exist. I’m yours. I’m lost in you, in your arms, in your love.

The clock strikes twelve.

I feel the façade fade. Fear consumes me. I know you could never love the simple girl inside. In fear, in doubt, and in confusion - I run.

Only in this fairy tale - you don’t run after me. I don’t lose a piece of me for you to find, because you’re not searching for me.

My heart now burns to cinder ash, and I’ve become numb. Many ask me to dance, but I feel nothing – not the music, not the fire, not the passion. The more I refuse, the more they want me, but I only want to dance with one.

Every day I am being transformed into the image of the princess I had once pretended to be – the one you wanted me to be – yet you can’t now see. You dance with the other princesses, hypnotizing them with your intense gaze, seducing them with your cunning cleverness. They don’t run.

My ashes cool and only a cold pile remains. I hate it. I smile, but I’m crying inside. I want to live, but I also want to die. I want the magic, but I have no wand. I’m shriveling to nothing and soon will be nothing but ash floating in the wind. My fairy tale has ended and my Prince is gone. I’m trying to survive. I’m trying to move on. I can’t breathe.

I hate who I’m becoming. She’s everything I despise. I’m no longer Cinderella, but a big, bad witch in disguise.

Till next time,

~Wicked Witch of the World

The Belligerent Stranger

Hello.

I’ve seen you around lately, but I can’t remember your name.

You do look familiar, but then again, I can’t place you. Have we met before?

What do you want?

Me? What do you mean?

Are you a friend or foe? Because I don’t need more of either.

Where do I begin. So many things have happened in my life lately, I really don’t need another distraction. I’ve got my hands full as it is. A distraction would … you know, distract me.

Oh, you think that’s exactly what I need? Why would you say that?

Forgotten who I am? No I haven’t.

Don’t know what I want? That’s not true either. I know exactly what I want, I just can’t have it.

No, it’s not in my power.

Yes, I put my heart on the line, and it got rejected.

You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t even know me.

How can you know me better than I know myself? You’re being obtuse.

I’m in denial? I’m dying? Who do you think I am?

No, I will not admit I feel that way. I’m not playing with fire. I’m not trying to sabotage anything.

For a stranger, you sure are a know-it-all. I don’t like your words or your attitude.

Change? Me …change? I don’t need to change. I like who I am.

Yes, really.

REALLY!

I don’t care if they like me or not. They’ll eventually leave me. They always do.

Spiral of what?

I don’t think I like you very much.

What do you mean you don’t like who I am?

You know what, I’m done with this conversation. Piss off.

**Walks away from the mirror.**

Till next time,



~The Belligerent Stranger

My Man

I read a meme this morning on Facebook that just won’t leave me alone. It’s about a woman warning another woman to stay away from her man. It’s got me really thinking about a lot of different things, perhaps things that’s been bothering me for a long time. What it boils down to is this: I suppose it hit me hard because I’ve been guilty of this action – I’ve gotten angry at the ‘other woman’, threatening her, staking my claim, and blaming her because someone I was in a relationship with cheated on me. But, I’ve grown up a lot since then and have come to see that things aren’t as black and white as I initially thought. Life never is. We should look at ourselves in these instances – not the other woman (or man) or the cheater.. but ourselves. This situation doesn’t reveal who your man is, who the other woman is, but who you are.

I’ve been cheated on and I’ve been the “other” woman. The difference isn’t in the men, but in me. I was at different places in my life for both events – and I’m at a different place now. I can’t say that I’ll never be cheated on again or that I wouldn’t ever again be the other woman. The only thing I know for sure is the woman I am now and the woman I hope to be in the future is a woman who deserves to be loved… to be loved right and completely.

Would I ever cheat? I don’t think so, only because I know me and I know how I love – I give all of me when I give my heart. But, don’t think I’m an angel. I’m not. Especially right now at this time in my life. I’m numb – and in this state, I don’t know what I’m capable of doing, either good or bad. I know there’s a hope in me that I’ll find my fire, my soul-mate, because I look for them every time I go on a new date, meet a new guy, and peer into the eyes of the stranger sitting across from me. I haven’t found him, yet. Well, that’s a lie. I found my soul-mate, but he didn’t want me. I also found a consuming fire and got burned. I loved them both with the deepest part of my heart, I still do, but I love me more and know I deserve more. Not better. They’re very good men and I don’t judge them. They both love me – as much as they can. But I deserve to be completely loved. I deserve to be wanted. I can’t make that happen, and I’ll never force or manipulate them to do it, because it wouldn’t be real, and above all… I deserve something real.

Until ‘real’ happens – what are my choices? To sit all alone with my morals to keep me company? I’ve done that for most of my life – and you know what? Moral is a cold-hearted bitch. All she’s ever really done for me was keep me lonely, keep me in pain, keep me from loving and forgiving myself and others. Or perhaps I can learn to appreciate each individual moment and the small opportunities I get to enjoy the company of someone I love, even if it means being cheated on or being the other woman? Or accept the small portion of love they’re willing to give, no more or no less, than for what it is? I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I’d love to be able to tell you, “Hell No!” but I’m human and I’m capable of being weak. Do I want it? No. But, I won’t judge it either.

I want to believe in the fairy tale… that true love is out there waiting for me and will find me and sweep me off my feet; that I’m the woman of someone’s dream; that I’m enough; that someone will love me completely - as I deserve; that someone that will be My Man, who will see only me and never need or want another woman. But, it’s hard to keep holding onto something I’ve never experienced. No, that’s a lie too. I was loved once just as I described above, that’s how I know it’s real… but I was the one that didn’t give my heart in return… for a long time at first. I wasn’t ready. For so long, I didn’t have a heart to give. When I finally did… I had my fairy tale for two days… and then I lost it. (See Your Girl) Perhaps that’s why I cling so tightly to the hope that those I love will one day love me back – just as I finally loved back the one who loved me for so many years. Perhaps I’m just a fool. I’m sure many called my soldier a fool for loving me, for holding onto his hope that I would day love him back, but he was the most beautiful thing in the world to me.

All I know… is that I don’t know anything. I don’t know if I’ll never be the other woman again or if I can even love completely again. All I know is that today… I want to be with someone I love, someone I care about, someone that touches my heart, however I can. The thing about love – you can’t force it and you can’t make it happen. I can’t make someone love me that doesn’t and I can’t make myself love someone I don’t. We can all manipulate, but to what end? I refuse to play that game, because it will never lead to something real. Truth (all of it – including the dirty parts)– honesty – openness – and trust – leads to something real. Patience, understanding, not judging one another - leads to something real, too.

Maybe he’s not the right guy… or maybe he’s not the right guy, right now. Maybe I’m not the right girl… or maybe I’m not the right girl, right now. My soldier never gave up on me. What he left me… is this insatiable hope, this fantastic dream, a forgiving heart, an opened mind, a different way to look at the world. How can I give any less? What I wouldn’t give for more of those two days. There’s a song by Fall Out Boy called “Just One Yesterday”…. “If Heaven’s grief brings Hell’s rain, then I’d trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.” I can’t go back. I can’t give up hope. Someday I’ll find ‘My Man’… and he’ll find me, and I won’t worry about warning other women away. They’d never be able to pry him from me because I’d have his heart and he’d have mine.

Till next time,



Sitting, Waiting, Wishing (Song by Jack Johnson)

Eyes That See

Eyes that see - I love to look into your eyes, yet fear it at the same time.  Those dark orbs are full of truth, full of knowing, full of fire.They see through me, past my mask,  and straight  into my fear,Exposing my deepest hope, my greatest dreams, my darkest regrets.They intrigue me.  They inspire me.  They see the truth of me.But do you see it, or do your eyes only reflect the truth back to me?You have eyes that see everything, even when you look at nothing.I’ve tried so hard to hide - my mask is elaborate and hand-carved with great detail.I’ve spent a lifetime adding thread  by thread, bead by bead, scar by scar,Garnishing the perfect elaboration, building the perfect distraction.But can you see me, or do your eyes only reflect me back to me?I’ve looked into many sets of beautiful eyes, And they have shown me the splendor of their hosts.But in your eyes I don’t only see your beauty, but mine. The first time I ever met their gaze it felt like the foundations of the earth shook,My knees wanted to bend in worship to the god standing before me.One glance and a fire ignited deep into my bones.I’ve tried to run. I’ve tried to hide. I’ve tried to ignore and to deny.But can you feel me too, or is the fire I feel my own passion reflecting back to me?
Eyes that see - will you look at me and tell me the truth?
Till next time,~T.L. Gray