Somewhere……

The prompt this week on Sunday Scribbling:

 #126 is Somewhere…

 

Somewhere lost in the deep dark pits of this rotten computer is my original piece titled, “Somewhere…”

I woke up at 6:30 this morning and wrote my heart out describing how family and friends always say,

“Somewhere you will find the man of your dreams.”

I continued to describe how I’ve grown and finally realized how much I’ve learned about myself and that it’s okay to just get to know me and not be desperate for the love of another, and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. It was really good!

I went to copy and paste it to my blog and bang, it disappeared, file corrupted! Tears, yes I had tears in my eyes. If it wasn’t so early in the morning I would have had a glass of wine to wash away those tears. For once I finally made the commitment to post my story on my blog early instead of procrastinating it to the final days, and I lost it. My terrible memory would never let me re-write it, I tried to no avail. So here I am blogging a complaint story instead.

Print it, that’s what I’ve learned this time, and not to beat myself up as usual. Oh and my final line, it was a good one. I have to write that again.

“Somewhere inside you is a person you never knew existed until today.” I like that person.

*print*

 

 

Fear and Flailing

                                                      

People would ask me if I was allergic to bees. I should have just said yes and then I wouldn’t have looked like such a fool when they buzzed around me and I ran away screeching with my arms flailing in the air. I wouldn’t have been so embarrassed if I had the excuse that I was deathly allergic and was running for my life. But I wasn’t allergic, I was just afraid and I had been for as long as I could remember. When I was around eight years old I went camping with my cousins. Camping and bees went together, and kids were mean to each other even when they were family. I was not a graceful runner when I was little; I got laughed at just for the way I ran. So a bee chasing me really did not help the situation. My cousins couldn’t figure out why I was so terrified. They asked me if I had ever been stung. Lucky for me I had a tiny little mole on my thumb that I showed them.

“This is where I got stung a long time ago; see I still have the scar.”

They were in awe. The lie worked for the rest of the camping trip; they felt sorry for me, protecting me from any incoming bees.

It didn’t get any better as I got older, no matter how hard I tried to listen to people explaining,

“If you just leave them alone and don’t panic they will leave you alone.”

They don’t leave you alone they buzz around your face, especially in the late summer when they actually chase you!

That is what I’m leading to. I did get over looking funny when I ran, or at least I didn’t think I looked funny anymore. So I started running a few times a week outdoors to train for a 5k run for cancer. It was late summer and the blackberries were in their prime ripeness around this dam where I ran. I did my first lap and made pretty good time so I thought I would run it again. I felt pretty good as I got halfway around. All of a sudden there was a buzzing around my head. It sounded as big as a horsefly so I didn’t even think it was a bee, and I tried to stay calm. I still had over 1k to make it back to my car. The thing wouldn’t leave me alone. I would go a little further and it would buzz around me again. Up went my arms flailing in the air! Panic set in, and the option was not there to stop, so I ran faster thinking I could outrun it. I turned to see it, and sure enough it was a wasp. I started freaking out; it was like a flying saucer buzzing around my head not giving up.  I was actually thinking I might have to jump in the dam beside me with the ducks. I was running so fast but it kept up with me and was getting really mad. Not only were my arms flailing but words were streaming out my mouth, bad words. I looked up ahead and finally saw someone jogging towards me. I had a plan. Maybe if I stopped and talked to him the bee would latch on to him and leave me behind. Not nice I know but I was desperate, this wasp wanted a piece of me. I stopped and started talking to him, I don’t know if any rational words really came from my mouth. I was sure all he could see was the fear in my face. I didn’t want to stand there for too long in case it started buzzing around me again and I had to start flailing in front of this guy, so off I ran. I listened and looked around me. It was quiet, no buzzing. It actually worked! I didn’t slow down though I wanted to get into my car fast. I was never so happy to come to that gate and jump in my car. I checked my watch. I knocked off two minutes that second run around, although it was not worth it.

If that ever happens again I’m running with one of those bug zappers.

Flip of the Coin

Sunday’s Scribblings prompt this week was how you met your significant other, your best friend, your dog, your nemesis, or any people in your life you have lost touch with who you wonder about.

Early this year I wrote about the loss of contact with my twin brother which was published in a book Six Sentences Volume 1. I am pulling it out of my files to post today.

Flip of the Coin

It was a flip of the coin when we were born, which one of us would spend the next few weeks in that heated bed with the lights that would cause the blindness, unknown at the time of course.  You were chosen, but I would take care of you, because we spent the first six months of our existence together before anyone even knew who we were, our time as one sharing things we don’t even know now. I was your eyes and you depended on me, sometimes too much for a child who just wanted to play and not be a mother; and I ran, wanting you to follow but you hit the wall, those little rocks on the house making your head bleed, it took me years to be able to forgive myself for running from you. When I walked to school to learn to read and write you flew on a plane, far away, to learn to read with your fingers, but you never learned because other bad things happened there that took you even further away in your mind than that plane could have ever taken you away from me.  Where are you now, I’ve worried; waking up in the night afraid and wondering if you are hurt, scared, or lonely like me. We will always be as one, but I’m terrified that one day, again with that flip of a coin you will be taken from me on those lonely streets that you walk; will I know deep within my heart that you are gone, before I even hear the words, leaving me as only part of a person?

 

Ask

Sunday Scribbling #123   “Ask”

I ask myself, am I responsible for someone else’s feelings when I say goodbye? I have my own emotions to contend with during these difficult times; deciding if I really should take on another’s burden when I have fought so hard to overcome my own. Am I being selfish? Should I ignore my own feelings once again and take care of someone else before myself?

Maybe I have allowed the relationship to go too far before realizing that there is an obstacle in his path that prevents growth for a healthy life together; stubbornness and anger in letting go of things from a past relationship that will only hinder the fulfillment of our future together. I have learned that before I can be truly happy with anyone else I have to be content with myself. Only with constant hard work and asking myself a lot of these challenging questions will I continue to develop throughout my life.

Questions can be difficult to ask, and hearing the answers can be even more difficult. In the end if we listen to ourselves honestly we will know what is true and be a happier person.

But damn it sucks getting there.

I Had To Do It.

I finally had to do it. Write my first blog entry that is, after procrastinating and starting several different blog pages over the past couple of years. It’s all because of Sunday Scribblings a new writing site I stumbled across recently. Just for the heck of it I typed in my new blog page and my name, and BANG my blog was entered on their weekly prompt titled “Do I have to?”  Now I did have to or my page would sit there blank for others to look at and wonder why I was there with no story. Maybe it was a good thing, this little push start into my journey to blogging. I would finally get my words onto the page instead of just floating around in my head or sitting on the tip of my tongue. My intentions were always positive, to write the words down on paper or type them on my page, but I always made excuses that it had to be perfect or I forgot the password to my blog because it sat so long untouched. When I read other writer’s blogs it inspired me; I wanted that same dedication they had to write every day. Well here I go! Cut, paste and insert my first entry onto my page, the first of many more words to come.