Thoughts about Writing

I love writing. I've done it for as long as I can remember. Short stories, poems, books it's all came out from one time to the other. Not had much success at it you understand other than a few published poems, but I love it. For a long time, it was what defined me because I could write and become the characters and live through them, when life here was well, lets just say, much less than perfect.

But the last little bit, my partner in crime when it came to writing has kind of moved on to other things and we don't talk as much. I miss that connection more than I can say, but slowly have come to accept it. Still, that took some of the fun out of writing. We'd start something and then life would get busy and it never went anywhere or because we weren't as close anymore our wavelengths were just completely different. That happens when you write in a partnership.

Still writing on my own has been pretty non existent. Not by choice really, though I guess some of it is that once life got under control here and became good again the need to escape wasn't there. I have this method to my writing though. When I feel I am supposed to write, the characters talk to me. Seriously, they carry out full blown scary conversations in my head. It's like a movie that plays and then pauses and picks up again when it wants. That's when the writing is probably at it's best. (Not that I'm saying I have a great best, but still a best it is LOL)

The last time characters really talked to me? Was ages ago. It was a character that was probably a cross between the Godfather and J.R. Ewing and he was as icky and dark as that entails lol. So last night for the first time in ages, characters began talking to me again. I'm going to see how it goes. I'm very nervous about it to be honest. I'm flying mostly solo and I haven't written anything with a purpose in so long that I figure it's going to crash and burn. But I'm going to do it. Why? Because I miss the voices in my head. I miss the way they take on life and I miss the laughing that comes along with the pure joy of doing something I love.

So wish me luck. Me and Cassie (the female character in question, who started off as a Melanie for some reason) Is gonna need it.

I miss you

I miss you. I know it by the way it hurts to breathe when I think of you. Realize it when I can't seem to function through the day. Everything has changed, it's as if I am stuck in the middle of a game that I don't really like to play and someone switched the rules just as I was making headway.

This is not the way it is supposed to be. People our age do not die this easily. It was the flu, it wasn't supposed to be serious. Yet, here I am and you're gone. I'm tired, emotionally drained, and I really don't think anyone understands. I appear the same on the outside, but inside it's all changed. No one can see it, but I feel it.

Laughs that were so easy once, can't seem to be found. Jokes that I always had ready to make someone smile are frozen and can't make their way to my brain. It's dark there. It seems darker everywhere. It's feels forced ... it all feels forced.

I've always found comfort in my faith. But that faith is the very thing eating at me when I think of you. You had no time for God, no time to deal with any of that stuff that far to often people don't think about until death is so very close. But for you, it didnt' give you a chance to breathe as it approached. It was just there. And this fact eats at me. It's festering and building and I don't know how to deal with it. You fall in the hands of a just God. An honorable God, a loving God but when you turn someone away do they necessarily have to be there when you won't? Were you able to recognize for a split second what needed to be done? What you needed? Who was there for you?

It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move on. It hurts to lean on faith, when the path you have left behind has none to shine.

I'm so tired. No one really understands. My faith teaches me one thing. My heart wants and needs to believe something else entirely. There are things I don't understand, things God knows that I cannot and am not equipped to understand. But right now, it's just so hard to move. It's so hard to breathe. It's so hard to speak and I'm just so tired.

My friend Sashi is Hindu. She believes we all come back that we "recycle" that more chances to grow are there. Perhaps God does this, I don't know. As a Christian I belive in God. I believe in his Son. I believe in the scriptures. I experience a relationship with God. Yet, still I know there are unknowns, so I can discount nothing. But the absence of peace gets harder and harder with every new dawning day.

Lost Friend

You lose touch with family once you grow up. It is inevitable. They have their lives, children in their lives, husbands who take priority, a list of daily things to do tha seem at times a mile wide and so those friendships born when young are pushed to the distance somewhat. They are reduced to the occasional hi in passing, catching up at family events, numerous things that mostly you take for granted. Until the next family event can't be a place to catch up because that person has been taken from life all too soon.

The older I get, I realize that there is never enough time. Once upon a time forty sounded ancient to me, and yet here I am nearly forty-one and suddenly even seventy doesn't feel that old anymore. But there seems to be a sense of injustice when one who is forty years old is taken from her family and loved ones. Despite knowing inside that you don't have to be old to die, when it happens close to home it hurts so much more.

That is the case with Loretta. She was my first cousin and in a lot of ways growing up an adopted sister. I was jealous of her, because she came from this huge family with lots (and lots) of brothers and sisters. I had one sister, who was five years younger, and as a result mostly a baby when I wanted someone to play with. Loretta filled that void a lot of times. She loved horses and being outside, she was energetic and she had this quality to her voice that made me smile. It spoke of growing up in the mountains, growing up hard, but proud and happy. Sometimes we would be in competition. She hung around the "cool" kids, me not so much I tended to strike out on my own, she dated the guy I thought was the cutest, but held back from telling everyone. Then as we got older we found our own ways. We shared movie night(and on that note no one should ever watch horror movies till 3:00a.m. then leave afterwards and park by a cemetary) We rode around with her older sister cranking up the tunes.... which of them all the only one I can remember is, Milli Vanilli. We embraced during times of loss when death clamied someone she loved but was destined not make a home with. We held each other when death again claimed her big brother and my sweet friend. We held each other's hand and hugged when death again claimed her mother. Not once during this time did it hit me that I was only seeing my friend, whom once I was so close too, during only times of loss. Not once did it occur to me to take the time to seek this person out to hold her closer. Time just got away from me, and when from time to time I thought of her, I kept saying I'd make time to do just that... but sadly the time never really came. Over the last couple of years I had seen her in Walmart when she decided to travel over my way. I'd seen her at a family reunion where she was helping her nieces catch fish at the pond. The last time I seen her, we were the one traveling a few counties over and my mom and I were looking at flowers. She started blowing her horn and we got out and hugged and laughed... I so enjoyed that day. She was in a hurry. She was meeting a former co-worker for lunch. She was going to come over our way and look at our horses. I did tell her I loved her... she did the same....

Now here, four months later.... she's gone. Unexpectedly, so quick it feels like it has ripped all of our hearts out. There is no chance to catch up. No chance to see how she's doing. No chance to make time for all those dang things I so wanted to make time for, but never did. She never went to church, I pray she made peace with God. I truly do want to see her again. It doesn't seem right that someone so full of life & love would no longer get to share that particular gift.

I wonder if she realizes just how much I truly did love her. I figure she'll never know how much I really am going to miss her and how much it saddens me that I can't even remember the day her birthday was.....

Rest In Peace my dear dear friend,
Loretta Prater Boyd
02-?-70/ 10/31/10