Start All Over

I never felt anything even remotely close to the love we shared
Still haven’t
I spent years waiting for you
What was so imperfect and frightening about a life with me?
You were the center of my world
The center of my decision making process
The one thing I treated better than any other part of my life
I was always there when you needed me
I was always there when you craved me
Maybe what I never noticed is that those last two things were pretty much the same
Did you ever see the life I saw?
Did you see the same man in the mirror that I saw every day?
I don’t know what else to do to show you my love
To prove my love and loyalty to you
Yet I was always compared to all the others
It’s been a long time since I heard the voice that once calmed the tempestuous waters of within
I tried to mourn our love over and over again
Each time I said it was the last time
But the love is always what brought me back….
Or maybe it was simply the familiarity of it all
Knowing the sense of your touch
Knowing the half smirk you gave when you tried not to laugh at my stupid facial expressions
The thought of starting over never seemed plausible to me
Our love was one that would always pick up where we left off
But…
Don’t I deserve better than that?
Don’t I deserve a consistent love?
Consistent kisses?
The same man’s arms around me in bed?
I gave you my soul
I got it back…..Piece
By
Piece…
Many nights I wished our love story ended differently
But as I finally accept moving on I’m glad we didn't keep up the charade
That vital parts of the soul that intertwine to become one just never fit
Our parts were too similar
We were meant to be a speed bump in the roads that are our great journeys
I finally release you of my love
I release you from the prisons of my mind
I release you from behind the bars of my twisted soul
I shall start all over
This time I won’t need the bars, the secluded rooms, the guards
This time I won’t need to prepare myself for war
I won’t have to ask God to take the hurt away
I won’t have to ask God to keep the next one out of jail
I won’t have to ask God to mend this broken heart
Although I start over, that doesn't mean my heart doesn't have those temporary cracks
I ask God that the next man is exactly that…A man
I ask God the next man knows how to heal my broken heart with his love
I ask God that the next man appreciates the small things about me and not try and change me
God told me he can fulfill all of this
There is just one thing he needs me to do to receive my blessing
Start all over…

The Last Conversation

“Look God, I know I’m not going to make it out this battlefield. I know this is where it ends for me. That was the price I paid when I decided to join the Marines all those years ago. I just want to say thank you for keeping me safe from harm all these years and I know this is your will. There’s only one thing I ask of you at this time. I know we haven’t spoken and I regret that every day of my life, but no matter where she is just please keep her safe. If I close my eyes I can still smell that perfume she used to wear for me, the way she would smile at me when I would look into her big brown eyes, the way she understood you and trusted you when I could never hear you.   I know she walked away from me…she had every reason to, I never treated her the way she deserved, she truly is one of your most beautiful angels. You know, people say when you are about to die your life flashes before your eyes. Well, all that is coming to mind is her… you know where she stands in my heart, I just wish I would have told her one last time what she meant to me. I love her God, and I always have. I made her one promise…‘No matter how far apart, no matter how long we have been apart, we will always find our way back to each other.’ It looks like I’m not going to be able to keep that last promise, but God please keep her safe for me. Janessa…remember… always.”

                                                                  ***

Dear God, thank you for another day on this earth, and thank you for the strength to get the closure I so badly needed. You closed a chapter of my life that I thought would be never-ending. I can’t begin to explain the disarray of feelings that passed through me during that funeral. I can’t explain what it felt like to sit in one of those back row chairs, to sit in silence, to know that the man I loved for practically my entire life laid at rest in that box with a folded flag on top, what seemed to be a world of strangers quietly grieving and socializing. Isn’t it weird it takes a loved one’s death to bring people closer together? I looked at all the grieving faces and although they all had their part in his life, but no one could ever grieve over this man the way I have and the way that I always will. Yet, no one in this graveyard knows who I am or even what I meant to this man… No one knows our story but today God with your strength it was time everyone knew.

Maybe it was just your will that it all happened so fast.       

                                                               ***

GOD! It’s her! It’s really her, look how beautiful she looks after all these years. I can hear her sweet voice talking to you. Answer her God, answer! Let me just be able to talk to her…What do you mean I can’t talk to her?! She’s talking to you right now! Just answer her! OKAY FINE! I will listen to what she tells you…

                                                            ***

I sat in that back row, I mean I guess you know what was passing through my head because well… you’re God you know everything, but I need to talk this out just to make sense of it. Maybe in a way if I talk it out, somehow maybe deep in my mind, I think Blair can hear me. I could have one more conversation with him. Maybe just one more conversation could bring us back and I can finally let him know everything that’s been on my mind all these years. Blair, if you’re up there just listen to me. I sat in that back row, looking at all these strangers around me. It was a world I should have been a part of years ago. A world in which I did my crying in the front row rather than this back row where no one knows who I was to this man. In a blur of tears, our past ran through my head. Flashbacks of cuddling in bed, telling him “I’m always going to love you baby.” It all took over the way I wouldn’t let it all these years. It was time. Through the flashbacks of afternoons in bed, movies, laughs, and deep talks the pastor’s voice finally broke the hold the memories kept me under, “is there anyone else here that would like to say a few words?” My heart started to race Blair, just like it did whenever I saw your name pop up on my caller id or the way it did when I saw you on the street. I quietly stood up, the squeaks of the chairs filled the air when everyone looked back at me probably wondering who on God’s green Earth I was.      I stood in front of what seemed to be the world, all whispering to each other. This was my moment, the way I saw it was this was my moment to talk to Blair not all these strangers.                                                                                            

                                                       ***

“Janessa! Janessa! I can hear everything you are saying! Just look up sweetie, just feel me one last time! You think I don’t know that she can’t hear me?! You are God! You are all powerful, why can’t you just let me have this one last time. I just need one last conversation with her God, I know she still loves me like I… What do you mean I didn’t love her enough?! I loved her like…Fine! I’ll listen to what she says.” 

  “My name is Janessa. I know none of you may know who I am or even what I am doing it but I felt in my heart I needed to be here. I felt in my heart, I needed to be with him one last time… I know I wasn’t his lawfully wedded wife but through all our struggles Blair still found a way to make me feel like I was the one true love of his life. I met Blair back when I was just seventeen. He was a year older and he was just so handsome. I can still feel in the pit of my stomach the little butterflies feeling I got whenever just the mention of his name came about. He was it for me. It wasn’t one of those movie romances everyone hopes to have. Our love was hard, it was rocky at times. We went months sometimes years without speaking, but one thing I can say about those long time spans is that I woke up every morning and went to sleep every time just thinking about him. I prayed to God so many times, asking him to keep Blair safe. I asked God to make him understand just how different I was from everyone else in his life. What we had together…it was real….it was true…more than anything it was pure.                                                                                                           The last time we spoke was twenty-two days ago to the date. Ironic isn’t it? I always prayed to God for one last conversation. I prayed that one day I would be able to tell Blair everything I felt for him. I prayed I would be able to tell him he was my sun, my stars, he was my moon. The last time we spoke I remember telling him that one day he realizes exactly how different I was from everyone. I hoped he would be able to lean on me in a way no one else could. I prayed he would come looking for me. I wanted our last conversation to be cleansing for my soul but God Blair…I never wanted to feel a cold casket against my hand for this conversation.  Maybe this was the best way for us. You were always my one Blair, I was always going to come back to you in life. No matter how much we went through together, the fights, the crying, and the pain. What hurt most was the moments when you had to find yourself. I was all for spiritual journeys but I wanted to be with you on those journeys. Every time we reconnected I prayed that little honeymoon phase would last forever. Those first conversations where you told me you missed me, where you would outright say that you loved me. I just wanted the Blair I fell in love with. I wanted you to mean it when you said ‘Always.’ I meant it every time I the word came out my mouth.  It’s too late for us to have our life together. I waited twenty-two years for our love to rekindle. I never fell out of love with you. I eventually had to move on and start my life. I got married to a man that I probably did not deserve. He was too good to me and no matter what we did or how long we were together it just wasn’t enough. The first five years of our relationship was long distance and that hard wasn’t the word for it. Maybe it was because I loved Blair so much more passionately or maybe it was the fact that although I was claimed I still felt alone, either way I always found my way back to him in those first five years. I always thought that if I did the life I was supposed to do in my later years Blair and I could do the life we deserved together. I never thought you would go before me, especially considering that you were the healthy one in our relationship. I know you had a lot of inner demons but I just wished you realized in time that I was the light the silence those demons. My husband died two years ago. I have three beautiful children from that man. They are my world, yet here I am at your funeral. That is how much you still mean to me. I love you Blair, I always have and I always will. No matter how far apart we are I will always find my way back to you. Maybe heaven is just our time to be together. Maybe this world couldn’t handle our crazy asses being together, and maybe the next world will. Just remember Blair… ‘Always.’”                                                                                                                                                                 

  “Janessa I can’t believe I wasted all that time on Earth without you. We should have been together I should have made more of an effort to come back to you instead of running away and trying to forget you. I never could forget you. Look, even up here when I know you can’t hear me I am still trying to talk to you. I want you to hold on to that love just a little longer. I promise you we will be together up here. I had no idea how much you suffered for me until I came up here and felt it for myself. Now, I understand what you meant God…and you were right. Just keep taking care of her for me until she comes back up here because the world cannot truly understand that kind of beauty. Janessa one last thing, no matter how far apart, no matter how long we have been apart, we will always find our way back to each other…Always.’”                   

The Brody Effect

As the reader of this short piece I know you are expecting one thing and one thing only, to be entertained for the two or three minutes that it takes to read this piece. I’ll try my best to give you what you want. The audience is always right…wait or is that the “customer” is always right? Oh well, that is beside the point, I digress. As a child I felt I had way too much creativity for my own good. I had a habit of having an entourage of imaginary friends, all of whom had their own unique backgrounds and stories. I grew up as the youngest child with siblings all at least a decade older than me. It was an understatement to say I spent a lot of time alone.  As insignificant as it may seem, there was one event in my childhood that changed me. That was the day I brought home my first and only teddy bear Brody Esquire Teddyskins.  Now I know you must be looking at this paper in your hand thinking, “How sad is it that till this day this 19-year-old girl considers her most significant experience in life to be getting a new teddy bear?” But I swear it’s going to make sense. Like I said I grew up as the youngest child, which basically was like growing up as an only child. I was always alone with my play-doh, Legos, Barney life-sized puzzle, and of course my stacks of coloring books. It got to be quite lonely, so I did what any other normal eight-year-old girl would do… I invented friends. All my imaginary friends had their own stories to them. One of them was a bunny named Kennedy, who was on the run from a vicious and tyrannical turtle who took over his bunny kingdom. There was even Esther, the traveling artist from Nantucket. She would be the one to help me with my coloring, although I had to make an executive decision to cut her loose from the entourage because she thought her tiger looked better than mine. Eventually my parents got tired of seeing me on the floor of my bedroom talking to what looked to be just myself. So on my dad’s day off they took me to Dave and Busters.  I was extremely shy as a child so throwing me into the chaotic kid-infested Utopia wasn’t what I would call my cup of tea. I clung to my mother’s skirt for dear life as though her skirt formed an invisible force field that would protect me from the anarchy.  Yet somehow like it always did, it failed me. There must have been a microscopic hole in the force field that left me vulnerable. My dad took me by the hand, sensing the fear in me, and tried to distract me. He would pick me up to sit on the chairs and show me how to play all the games. It wasn’t long till I discovered these huge games rewarded you with these little stubs called tickets. After about two and a half hours of random kids running by screeching and about one hundred dollars of my father’s own money, my parents decided to introduce me to the gift shop. They explained to me that in exchange for the correct number of tickets I could choose whatever I wanted from the shelves to take home. Now that was music to my ears. I was quite different from the other children; I walked alone around the shelves as if contemplating what would make a good addition to my box of toys. Nothing stuck out to me and just as I was about to turn and walk away with a yo-yo that’s when I heard his what I considered a squeaky but he still reaffirms was a perfectly masculine voice for his age. I looked straight up above my head to the third shelf, and there he sat with that warm comforting smile I have come to love. He asked me what my name was and I told him. Here I stood once again an eight-year-old little girl having a conversation to herself. He told me his name was Brody Teddyskins and that he thought I should take him home. He told me I looked shy and I told him I was. He said he could tell from the second I walked into the gift shop that I was a lot different from all the other children. He told me if I took him home he would protect me and I would never be lonely again. Well it did sound like a good deal, a bodyguard and a best friend? I was in no position to say no. I pulled my dad’s sleeve to let him know Brody was the one I wanted. As I watched my dad’s arm block the light in my small eyes to grab Brody from that shelf I felt a surge of excitement in the pit of my stomach. The second I hugged him everything in time and space seemed to freeze. It felt as if he hugged me back, indicating he needed me just as bad as I needed him. The rest of the car ride home I slept with him in my arms, the world finally didn’t seem so scary and lonely. My days at home were now filled with conversations about fantasy worlds, books, what kind of Jell-O mom would make after dinner. As we have aged, Brody has kept his promise. I never have felt abandoned since then. He has protected me from boogieman in my dreams to real life boogieman like abusive ex-boyfriends. Through thick and thin in the last eleven years Brody has stood the test of time by my side. I may be a 30-year-old girl with a Teddy bear but the sad reality of the world is he has turned out to be a better friend than many of the people that have passed through my life. He changed me in a small way but very significant at the same time. Before him I was a painfully shy girl who kept to herself because no one could mistreat her that way. No one could call me names, hit me, or just insult me if I didn’t deal with people. Although it was an effective plan it also got to be very solitary at times. He came along, never judged me and always loved me. He listened to me read to him or even let me come home, as I got older to tell him about any new crushes or boyfriends. Even the college search didn’t seem as scary because I knew wherever I went he would be in my bed waiting to make my world a better place. He was my first friend in this big crazy world and will continue to be. When I get older and have my baby girl I will give Brody to her to make her world a little bit brighter just as he has made mine. I know it must be weird for you guys, the audience, to be sitting on your train or bus, or even stuck in traffic reading this article of a writer that has an obsession with her childhood teddy bear. What I wanted to accomplish from this story is that just because we are older, just because we have nine to five’s now doesn’t mean that we need to forget our first best friends. I know everyone reading this can relate somehow to my experience. There has to be some teddybear or doll, or even a pet that meant the world to you at one point. We have to find a way to bring a little bit of magic back into our lives.I made a promise to Brody, well besides giving him to my future daughter, I promised that I would make the world remember his name. This is my way of doing that, I know there’s a little Brody in everyone’s life and it’s time to let go of the mundane and the expected and release a little of that magic. Give your little Brody a bit more life! Or even bring him back to life! My story is one of warmth and friendship. Of all the struggles I’ve gone through he has always been here. For all the friends that have come and gone he has always been a constant. Isn’t that what friendship is really about? Who says as an adult there has to be a proper way of living and a proper way of making friends? Why can’t we all just bring our Brody’s along for the journey that is life? My life started with a Teddy bear and I can say my life will end with a teddy bear and so will my daughter’s and her daughter’s. The key to life is finding that little happy spot. My happy spot so happened to be a little stuffed bear. Yours could have been a Barbie doll and her Ken. It doesn’t matter as long as you give them back life. Now I don’t want you to miss your stop on the train or bus. So I will wrap it up from here. You can either think I am insane writer in the city that is obsessed with stuffed animals or you can think I am your guru bringing out your inner child and letting some sunshine come in. Whatever you think I am I’m just here to share my story with my beloved Brody. I’ll always cherish the memory of the first time I looked up onto that shelf and saw him staring back at me. It seems like those type of memories are such a thing of the past. Now-a-days kids have iPhone, iPad, and iCloud. Whatever happened to having to make your own fun? Having to make your own friends face to face, what ever happened to having to have an imagination? Well letting out your inner child like I have allows a type of happiness computers and internet just cannot buy you. That my dear friends is called The Brody Effect. Now that you know the theory share this article with a friend and try to recreate some memories.

The Truth

It all started with a horrendously rainy night. There was no way I was making it home that night through the chaos. It was as if the gods were punishing us insignificant humans for all the destruction we have caused on Earth through the centuries. Or maybe, just maybe, it was a special punishment for me. Seeing as how I was tormented by the fact that I couldn’t write a single decent page all freaking day. I am a writer; therefore I have a lot of free time on my hands. I set goals for myself, a specific number of pages to be written every day. With this kind of discipline I was bound to come across my New York Times best seller wasn’t I? Well, as I sit here and write out this story for you strangers of the world, I can distinctly recall that day was one of the worst I’ve ever had when it came to writing. I sat in front of the computer in my writing apartment… Okay you’re probably reading this like what the hell is a writing apartment? Well, I quickly learned early on in my career that I was not going to be the type of writer who could write in bed. The only way I could get any work done is in the apartment I rent specifically for writing. Yeah, the extra rent can be a bitch some months where I’m tight on cash but I figure when I finally create that masterpiece the apartment will pretty much pay itself off. Just a sacrifice for greatness, as I thought of it. Now that I sit there writing what I consider my “masterpiece” for you strangers of the world. I must admit it was a pretty stupid idea. I have no idea what I was thinking. I could have just as easily sat in a Starbucks. It’s not like I had a 9-5 and had to be anywhere. If you’re wondering where I get this money from you are right…I come from the Monroe fortune….BUT I want nothing to do with my families money. I will make it on my own. I even write under a different name….Colton Baldovini as opposed to Monroe. But I digress… I sat in front of that computer in my writing apartment that day with nothing but frustration and writer’s block. Why couldn’t I find a better way to phrase that sentence? Why did I come up with such a mundane topic to write about? Where was the originality? I think the sound of me hitting the backspace button made a bigger impact than the actual crap on the screen I called writing. Now every time I tell this story to a close friend I always seem to think the gods have a sense of humor for this. As I sat there ready to throw that 1500 dollar computer out the second story window, I said with more conviction than Johnny Cochran, “I will not go home tonight until I have my New York Times best seller!” I struggled the rest of the afternoon and most of the early evening. I focused more on the music I had on in the background than the actual writing. I went back and forth between classics like “My Girl” by The Temptations and “The way You Look Tonight,” by Frank Sinatra. All in an effort to be inspired by love, heartbreak, ANYTHING! The supposed creative juices were as dead as all my childhood pets buried in my parent’s backyard. That’s what brought me to my car that night. I Figured I might as well go home and shake off whatever plague was preventing me from creating. Like I said it looks like the gods weren’t really feeling the idea of me going home that night without a masterpiece of a story. Sorry America….the greatest book you ever read just wasn’t born that night. The rain pounded against my windshield so hard that I thought the whole damn thing was going to cave in. That was just what I needed that night, broken windshield and to sit there and get soaked. I guessed the bar was a better option than being stranded in a piece of crap blue car, the size of a cardboard box, parked on a side of a highway on a rainy night. Walking into Tony’s Pub was destiny. I was meant to walk into that bar and meet Tonya. I sat on that worn out brown leather stool, asked Big Tony for a beer. The moment I pressed the glass to my lips and felt the foam on my top lip I heard a small black book drop right next to my foot. I slowly picked it up for the young, attractive, and mysterious woman sitting next to me. The rest I like to think was history. The history of how I found my New York Times Best Seller.

“Thank you Mr.…”

 “Baldovini and you’re welcome.”

 “Well thanks again Mr. B, without this no one would know the truth.”

 I stared into her dark brown eyes for what seemed to be the most fleeting moment as she looking down at the black book in the hands. She seemed to be drunk out her mind already.

“The truth?” I asked.

 “Yeah, I didn’t stutter, the truth. I wrote down every detail of the truth in this little black book. Otherwise no one would know what they did.”

 I looked at Big Tony, “Yo! big guy, how freaking long as she been sitting her drinking? Since July?”

 “Got me bub, could’ve been a couple hours. I’m not gonna lie to you I collect money I really don’t give a rats ass how long they sit here. I mean the broad still looks pretty damn good for being drunk out her ass don’t she?”

 The look on my face spoke for itself. Big Tony has always been a bit of a pig, ugh why do I even keep coming back to this bar?  Just as I took out my own journal to weakly give one last attempt at concocting some mediocre story idea that’s when she began the conversation that will forever be engraved into my soul and burned into my memory.

“Hey, Mr. B? Why do you have such a need to because this huge amazing writer? Don’t cha think the world has enough blabber mouth’s that just never know when to shut the hell up?”  Now to any writer reading this story, I’m sorry, I told you she was drunk out her ass. “Well Tonya, I don’t know what hack-job writers you have met or even what God awful books you have read but we aren’t all like that.”

She let out a veracious laugh, “We? Have you even had anything published or do you always sit around bars looking this pathetic?”

“Jesus lady, I don’t know what side of whose bed you woke up on, I don’t even know if they gave you decent enough sex but don’t take your crappy unsatisfied life out on me. You can go fuck yourself. You don’t know the first thing about me to try and sit here and peg me.”   She continued to laugh like the little asshole she was. Granted she was hot, I mean what guy isn’t going to take a minute to check out the ass on this chick, God you could’ve ate a meal off her perfect ass, but damn that wasn’t the point she was a big old douche and she was ruining the buzz from my beer. “Mr. Baldovini, What do you want to be your legacy when you pass?”

That definitely was a morbid question and the weather outside definitely fit the morbid theme. “Well… Tonya, I’d say I’d want the world to remember me by my writing. I want to create a masterpiece. A New York Times Best Seller that will forever engrave me in the history books. Something spectacular, hard hitting, a huge phenomenon.”

“Well Colton, the world will know your name anyway, with the butt load of family money you have. Isn’t that enough for you? Or are you like all those other tortured souls that need to prove to the world that they are their own person…blah blah blah…it gets a little boring after a while Colt I gotta say.”

“What the fuck?! How the hell do you know about my family money or anything?! Are you a freaking stalker or something?” As you can see people she was a REAL creep.

A smirk spread across her face making a crack through all that caked on make-up she had on that night. Like seriously chicks let’s stop for a second, please someone tell me what in hell makes you broads think us guys actually like that much make up? We don’t…just reminds of creepy clowns. You basically remind me of a creepy Stephen King novel.

“Sweetie, I’m gonna just put this out there for you because I got a LONG commute back home and well let’s just say my superiors aren’t going to be too happy with what I’m about to do. My actual name is Asteria, I am a goddess and well for the last thirty years of your life, I’ve been your little guardian angel from the elders. I have saved you from eternal damnation with the way you have disowned your family. Family is the most important things to us gods besides loyalty. You possess neither of these qualities.”

I looked around to see if anyone but me was seeing how far gone this chick really was. I kid you not these were her exact words. I stood there bug eyed but somehow found a way to write down her name and the word goddess. I mean hey the chick might be off her rocker but this could have been a pretty decent story, maybe I could’ve sold a short piece to a magazine to rake in some cash. She once again stared into my eyes as though trying to read my thoughts, or even implant a thought maybe? A smirk once more took over her face, “Look Colt, I don’t got time for this, with what I’m going to show you and the rest of humanity. Like I said, I’ve been protecting you for the last thirty years and now the elders have found out. They have taken my powers and condemned me to death. I no longer have anything to lose here so why not just tell you the truth.”

She pushed the black book across the bar over to my hand. Although she was drunk out her ass this whole I’m a goddess crap was kind of intriguing. I let her pass her little gibberish to me and let her be on her way.

“Now remember, when you read this manual no one can be around. This is the material you have lacked all these years. I am finally giving you all you have ever wanted, don’t abuse it, and for the love of all gods stop being such a pretentious douche, you come from money waaa waaa. Get over it! I just want you to know one thing, I’ve seen you grow up, I’ve protected you as if you were once of us. I am the last goddess to be with man, you are the last man. That will be your legacy if you follow the instructions in this book the way I meant for you to. Through my damnation comes your legacy.”

 I looked down at the book and back up to her brown eyes but she was gone. I looked at the door but it was long closed behind her. I looked around to see if anyone noticed the book besides me. I opened the hard cover and each and every page was poor gold. Right before my eyes was an expose on the gods we have come to blindly follow. What they are really like, what we don’t know about them. That my dear friends is how I came to be known to you today as New York Times Best Selling author of “The Gods We Follow,” Colton Baldovini. I never did see that Tonya woman again, I guess with the making of the book the other gods really did say ‘Off with er head!’ That was 40 years ago now, and there is not a day that passes that I do not think of that mysterious, reckless, and overall pain in the ass goddess. There’s not one day that passes that I don’t thank her for my little gift of the knowledge of the gods.

The Toy War

               The story of the toy war was all Reginald had with his beloved grandson Darin since his son Michael passed away. Darin’s mother was never too close with Michael’s side of the family, so when Michael passed she just decided to move Darin away far from Michael’s childhood home.  So not only did Reginald lose his only son but he lost his only grandson. Reginald’s wife Christina passed shortly after Michael did. Doctors say it was from the lung cancer but Reginald always had the sneaking suspicion that Christina just couldn’t handle the pain of losing her only son. So here he was 85 years old living alone in the old cottage he built himself from its first piece of wood. The remains of the cold night radiated through the cracks in the wooden walls. Reginald placed more wood to keep the fire going. This was the last night of Darin’s stay with Reginald. His mother would be there bright and early in the morning to take him back the United States. A week in his beloved London with his grandson was all he was going to get, and he had a feeling all he would ever get. How much longer was Reginald going to be around? He probably wouldn’t be around to watch his only grandson become a man. This story was all he had left to connect to not only his grandson but his only son. As Darin crawled under the blankets, Reginald laid next to him. The wind tapped against the windows like a friendly neighbor but intruded through the cracks like a burglar. The silence filled the room like the water reaching all the way to the rims of a bathtub. All that could be heard was the wood burning and the creaks coming from the convertible sofa. “Grandpa Reg? Can you tell me the story of the toy war again? You said it was my dad’s favorite so I want it to be my favorite.” Reginald stayed silent in thought thinking of the memory of his Michael. “Well son, your father loved this story because I taught him to believe in magic, and this story shows the true power of magic. Now I know your mother believes in science and an explanation for everything, but I always want you to keep this little gold nugget of information in a teeny tiny corner of your heart; magic always lives within us, that’s what makes us extra special.”  The tree branches caressed the windows as if agreeing with Reginald. “Look around young Darin, magic is everywhere. Like your grandmother used to say, ‘you know magic exists if this cottage was able to survive all these years.’ Quite the clown your grandmother was.” Darin turned into the nook of his grandfather’s chest preparing for the last telling of the toy war. Reginald walked across the creaky wooden floors to shut off the light. The warm fire radiated light that demurely outlined Darin’s face. Reginald laid back down, “Okay son, so like I was saying earlier a very special part of our family history is the fact that all the men in our family had some type of magic in them. For your father it was making pictures come to life, for me it was the ability to see toys come to life. When I was seventeen years old, I worked in a huge toy emporium called Kiddy Kiddy Band Bang…” Darin let out an innocent little laugh that no matter how many telling’s Reginald had done, still found a way to melt his hard. “I know the store’s name always gets to you, what can I say? My boss had a great imagination. Well, at seventeen I was trusted with closing the store down. Most employees had to be working there for years to get that responsibility. Maybe, it was the fact that I needed the money so badly to pay for my wedding to your grandmother or maybe I was just an amazing employee. Whatever it was, one cold November night I found myself closing up the gates to the store. I locked the cash register, and walked to the back to put the money into the blue safe. Right when I locked the safe back up I heard what I could only assume were gun shots. At seventeen, I had no idea how to handle burglars.” Darin pulled the covers closer to his face, this part of the story always frightened him a little as he seemed to forget that the burglars weren’t really burglars or an actual threat at all. Reginald cuddled closer to the young boy, kissing his young his head, at that moment a hair from Darin’s young head tickled Reginald’s old nose. “Like I was saying, I truly thought those were gun shots from burglar’s until I crawled to the door and peered out the crack of the door. What I saw changed my life forever. There was a small little teddy bear general ordering his ‘soldiers’ to ‘beef’ up the army by creating more men out of silly putty. Now son, all that ran through my head was, ‘Jesus, I need a day off.” The sound of Darin’s adorable giggle made the wind of the brutal seem like a figment of Reginald’s imagination. “What I had no clue of my dear Darin, was that my simple workplace was a battlefield, not only was it a battlefield, but it seems I was stuck in the middle of a civil war! General Hugums continued to order more men to be made as I quietly tried to crawl to the other side of the store. Yet, to my surprise there was the south side of the store’s General Kelloways. Kelloways was a G.I. Joe, for what it was worth I was betting my money on him that night. The two squads continued to strategize as I tried to figure out what on Earth was happening. That was when the dreaded moment happened… I sneezed and the small patrol cars raced to the scene.” “A HUMAN! GUANTY WEREN’T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE GUARDING THE PERIMENTERS!’ General Kelloways did not seem pleased to see a human in sight but hey who would my dear boy? The human world isn’t supposed to know of the magic this planet holds. That night, looking back, I was lucky enough to survive and bring back a bit of the magic with me. ‘TIE HIM UP! HE IS NOW A POW, I wouldn’t be shocked if this was some kind of ploy from Hugums men.’ There I was my young Darin, tied up with the very cowboy ropes I stocked!” Young Darin’s eyes seemed to get heavier and heavier, maybe the sandman was close to paying a visit. “Now son, this is the part where I thought life was over as I knew it, and in a way I was right. I laid there tied to the floor as the toy men huddled. General Kelloways stepped forward for what seemed like the final pep talk. ‘Now men it’s been a long war, we have lost many great men and I thank you for your loyal service. No one likes a war but this is what has to be done for toy unity. Hugums has taken a page from Hitler’s book and is trying to take over our little home. We aren’t going to let that happen. This is the last battle gentlemen, let’s make this count and let’s make this our home again.’” The tree branches scratched against the windows of the cabin, maybe which was sign that they were listening too and wanted Reginald to speak louder. “So, from where I was lying the North side of the store was the bad guys, I was captured by the good guys so maybe I had a chance at living. Within a half a second both sides went to war, a mixture of plastic limbs and mini guns flew everywhere. Countless piles of silly putty laid in the now ruins that was once the north side of the store. The heart wrenching screams forever burned into my memory harrowed through the store. One thing was for sure son, I was never able to look at that store the same. At that moment a small gun shot went straight through General Kalloway’s chest, down he went for the name of the south side of the store.” Darin laid there sound asleep, Reginald laid there for a moment trying to memorize every freckle and strand of golden hair on the young boy’s head. This was probably the last time he was ever going to hold his grandson…he had to cherish this moment. “Now son, with General Kalloway going down I thought my life was over. Hugum’s and the north side were sure to kill me. Hugums came up to laughed in my face and said, ‘It was never about the humans little boy it was always about the toys, it is now our time to rise.’ With that said he raised a small gun to my heart, I closed my eyes asking God to make it a swift dead. I heard a gunshot and I looked down trying to examine by shirt for any blood. To my surprise it was Hugums who was dead, Kalloway made one last effort for the south and killed Hugums, ultimately, saving my life.” “I know you are asleep young Darin, but this is the part I always told your father to remember and this is what I want you to remember. General Kalloway crawled over toward me and cut me free from the ropes. ‘Sorry kid, it was for your own good. The way we saw it you are a human you could have been a threat to my men. I had to make sure the war was in the bag before worrying about you. Now that Hugums is dead and the store can return to peace I will let you go. There is only one thing I ask…’ The blood was spooling from his chest and his breathing became rapid this was the end. ‘Hugums was wrong about toys being what was important. I know seeing us is a shock to you but now you know the magic that we hold. No one has ever been able to see us in our true form. You are lucky, therefore you will carry the magic with you. You and the generations of men in your family after you will know the story of this war. That is solely because the magic lives within you now. My magic is dying, I am dying but I give any little bit I have left to you. What I want you to remember young Reginald is, the magic lives within and because of this the men of your family will forever be different from the rest of the unknowing humanity. Remember this magic, cherish this magic, and channel this magic. It will last through many lifetimes. Whatever hardships you face the magic is what you can pass on and get you through. Believe in the magic.’ General Kalloway took his last breath in my hand.  Darin, your mother will be here in a few hours but even if you never see me again, remember this cabin built with love, remember me and your grandmother, remember London, remember your father, but most importantly always remember the magic…”

Balance

You have a power over me no other man ever could acquire

You are my lover

My protector

My warrior

My partner

My husband

You are the water to my raging fire

Without you I would destroy everything in my path

Including myself

You are the “Prince Charming” I’ve long dreamt about

You make all the past hurt seem worth the battle scars

I love you because you see past the curves, the smile, and the mysterious eyes

You see me for who I am

You see what no one else does

You gave me what no one else thought seemed possible

Balance

Bleeds Unrequited Love

Growing up we face a lot of things, and we can take most of them

One thing that hits you the hardest and your nowhere near prepared for is falling in love

Love hits you so hard you lose your breath and no matter how thick the walls around your heart are they will come crumbling down for love

When he walks by and smiles you melt and feel the butterflies in your stomach

 They feel like there are 300 pounds each

When he looks away and you stare at him and wonder why you love him so much

When he talks to you and inside your jumping up and down with excitement, but on the outside you try to act cool

At the end you tell him how you feel and he doesn’t feel the same

You feel your heart burst inside your chest

You hide your pain; you’re supposed to be tough, a stupid guy is not supposed to hurt you

You try to pretend like it doesn’t even affect you, and your mask is great, no one knows your dying inside

You bottle it all up until graduation night, it’s supposed to be the happiest day besides your wedding but all you can think about is he

You realize your never going to see him again; you isolate yourself to a space just for you

That’s when you feel it coming

You feel it all coming back, the scab on your broken heart ripping off

You feel the tears trying to rush out, but you fight it

Your supposed to be stronger than this, how can a stupid guy affect you like this?

Your emotions overtake you like you never thought they could

You can’t hide your pain anymore

Your alone and you cant fight it anymore, don’t want to fight it anymore

You heart breaks and it bleeds…

It bleeds unrequited love