Angie was sugar and spice and all things nice. She was baked cookies fresh from the oven, Disney movies on a sunny Sunday afternoon and a perfectly kept lawn encircled by white picket fences. She rescued stay and injured animals, she donated regularly to charity and cried at movies based on true stories.
Even the bad movies.
But, that’s what Dan liked about her. Angie wasn’t a push over who would meekly follow him, but she was helpful and kind and so nice that everybody loved her and kept telling him how lucky he was to have her. Dan already knew that, but it was still nice to hear the approval from the family and friends he held so dear.
Dan knew that one day, when he had risen through the ranks of his company a little more and Angie had finished her teaching training and was settled into the education system, that they’d get married. A few years later they’d have children and Angie would be the perfect mother to their kids that would undoubtedly also become perfect.
How could they be anything less with a mother as wonderful and caring as Angie?
The wedding would be beautiful. His brother, Mike, would be best man and would deliver the funniest speech at the reception. Angie’s best friend Charlotte would be chief bridesmaid and would look radiant in whatever pretty dress Angie chose for her.
Dan and Mike were closer than ordinary brothers. Their mother always said that they were twins born in different years as they looked the same, thought the same and acted the same. Angie and Charlotte were completely different from each other, but best friends all the same. Angie was sugar and spice and all things nice, but Charlotte was dark and hidden, and all things forbidden.
And that’s what Dan liked about Charlotte. He knew that it would break Angie’s kind and gentle heart if she knew what Dan and Charlotte did together when Angie was working late. Dan felt guilty about hurting such a pure soul as Angie, but the way Charlotte tugged at his hair and arched beneath him meant that he didn’t feel guilty enough to stop.
He had bought the wine in Germany during a stopover on his way home from Iraq just a few weeks before we met.
We found it while unpacking old boxes just a few weeks before the end. We spent a pleasant few hours together in the kitchen that night, with me washing dishes and asking questions while he researched the wine. Ice wine, made from frozen grapes, and Trockenbeeren-Auslese, made from grapes shriveled and sweeted by “noble rot” are both served chilled, so we placed the bottles in the fridge, where they stayed until the night before I left him.
All week, we had worked together sorting our mingled possessions - the material evidence of our mingled life - and packing my things. We joked, we laughed, we talked, and we (mostly I) cried. That last afternoon, a Sunday, I remarked rather sadly that I had been looking forward to sharing that wine with him. It was one of many things.
He offered to open the bottles that night, when we returned from seeing a movie together, and I was grateful and hopeful.
“If we’re getting divorced,” I quipped, “We’re doing it with some class.”
He filled our glasses with the sweet, tawny-hued Trockenbeeren-Auslese, and we drank a toast, “to old friendships and new starts.” The ice wine came next, and he gave a toast; I’ve forgotten his exact words, except for something about “not staying in Arkansas,” which seemed like a kind wish. We drank the sweet German wine as we packed boxes and carried them to the waiting Uhaul trailer.
I left in the morning with the sweetness of the wine and his last kiss still on my lips.
It is possible to be sunburnt and drenched in the same day, all-be-it that damp clothes clinging to sunburn isn’t the pleasantest of things.
It is true that things can change in one day, drastically change so that just like that things will never quite go back to how they were before.
There is always the latest craze that supposedly makes you that bit cooler if you buy into it. The latest ones I’ve noticed are floral prints, smart phones and songs with the word ‘young’ in them; oh and the meerkat thing’s still going strong.
Memories contort and combine over time until we can never be positive exactly how a certain event spanned out. All we have to rely on is pictures, videos and written words, which don’t necessarily show us the truth.
Do some people really spend their life-time waiting for something that doesn’t exist or do they secretly know it isn’t truly real yet they still choose to keep waiting?
Can change be good or is it too open to suspicion and criticism that we don’t allow to see if it is for the best, we only see the negatives?
Is there a reason for everything we do like it’s a dot-to-do that takes us our whole lives to complete and do fate and karma really exist? What-comes-around-goes-around and there’s a reason for everything, do these clichés really ring true?
I believe that ghosts exist, it’s good to think and love doesn’t make sense but who’s to say I’ll always think like this, my thoughts may change over time, or contort and twist inside my mind.
Most of us have a story to tell.
Sometimes it’s about love, or the lack of love, or strange love, or bad love, and sometimes not. Sometimes it’s about being different, being odd, the odd one out, or doing odd things, and sometimes not.
And sometimes it’s just speculation, some musings, some ponderings on what is and what might have been if your life had unfolded a different way from the way it has.
Yet other times it’s factual, an actual timeline, events from day one retold in chronological order with your very own voice and where nothing, absolutely nothing, not good and not bad, is left out or left to the imagination of the reader. A reality blog.
And then we have pure fiction. Maybe flash fiction, an event captured and retold in 300 words or less. Or paranormal fiction, where things we normally don’t see suddenly become part of our reality. And paranormal romance, where we fall in love with beings from another dimension - or beings of the night, who have been with us for thousands of years and subsist on human blood but who have escaped our notice, until now…
Whatever your story is, LoveMe is the place to share it. And sharing is simple, and its free (of course) - but you must know that anonymity is not an option on LoveMe. Our program does not enable blogging until you have posted a proper profile photo, a photo that features yourself in all your glory - and you are required to use either your real name or your pen name to identify yourself.
LoveMe is very very search engine friendly and designed to work hand in hand with them and their methods of information gathering.
If you use your real name for your profile, and if you post direct links to your Facebook, Twitter or Google+ profiles (for example), you are telling the search engines that “Yes, this is really me” and this is called authority and this will with time weigh quite heavily in a search engine’s decision on how exactly to display search results that might include yourself or something you have posted on LoveMe.
To share your story on LoveMe please follow these three simple steps:
1. Create a full profile to tell us who you are.
2. Post some nice profile photos to show us who you are.
3. Click My Blog to share your story with our community.
On behalf of the LoveMe community allow me to extend you a warm welcome and to say on behalf of all of us that we very much look forward to reading your story.
Cheers
Jen (publisher)
PS. In reading our stories on LoveMe and while browsing our photos you will have noticed that we do not use explicit or vulgar vocabulary, that we are invariably curteous in all posts and communication, and that we do not post photos of ourselves or someone else that might be considered indecent.
For visual guidelines on photos, please look to Facebook. If it’s OK there, it’s most likely OK here too.
For verbal guidelines - and because we are indeed a very very liberal site - it’s not so much what you say but how you say it.
This week what has really annoyed me is goldfish. Now I have nothing against goldfish, I actually really like them and I remember how I used to study the goldfish tank in the dentist’s waiting-room intently when I was a child.
My problem at the moment with goldfish is that I didn’t buy them. I promised my son when we moved into a house and he got his own room I’d let him pick out two goldfish and pick ornaments and coloured stones for the tank.
Luke went to his dad’s on Saturday night which had me all stressed-out because he only has him once every ten-weeks. He works in Africa for seven-weeks and the three-weeks he’s back his girlfriend usually has a packed schedule planned. Then I find out he’s taken Luke to pick goldfish. Not only is this the only thing other than a cheap magazine he has brought him in years but the fact he did it without asking me first makes it even worse. I know it’s petty to get this worked-up over fish and I know he only did it to make me mad but exes are really frustrating when they feel the need to play games.
I think it’s all very well seeing your child once every few months and acting like dad-of-the-year but there is a lot more to being a parent than just turning up occasionally and being fun.
I know I just need to grit my teeth and ignore anything my ex may do to score points because Luke knows I will always be here for him, even if I do tell him off, don’t let him drink fizzy drinks and didn’t buy him goldfish.
Well, this certainly wasn’t what I expected. My night ended up being a major catastrophe! My husband had asked if I would make him some brownies, and thinking this might put a spark back into our marriage, I decided to oblige. But what what was suppose to be a perfect dinner, with that special dessert, turned out to be a major disaster.
First off, he hated the Chile Verde I made, although he was okay with the cheese and onion corn muffins.
Then, the brownies… Let’s just say, the oven decided to overheat and go up in flames! I had to finish the brownies in the microwave oven, which led them to be way to moist and greasy. Nasty!
So while the house survived my oven’s bad timing, I’m very sure the neighbors were panicking as the smoke seeped out the doors and windows. Thankfully this house came equipped with a mini fire extinguisher, otherwise I might have had to call our local guys from the fire department out. Hmmm. I wonder if I could have requested them to strike a pose without their gear and show the husband the photos. After all, it would be for a good cause! Wonder if he would notice me then! HA!
So in closing, I leave you with my attempted look for the day.
P.S. I did get to the library! Lots to tell soon!
P.P.S I had to go outside to write this because of the mad house inside, and the bugs are biting. At least someone thinks I’m sweet!
Anticipation. Yearning. Longing. Nervous. Impatience. Fear. Desperation. Love. Desire. All of these emotions were flooding through Cori. Her heart was pounding and her mind racing. The moment she had spent months anticipating was finally here.
She anxiously scanned the crowd. His plane had landed almost half an hour ago, and still there was no sign of him. Her nerves couldn’t hold out much longer. She nervously pulled at the hem of her dress.
“Where is he?” she asked herself aloud. She was starting to worry. Had he changed his mind? No. She knew that wasn’t possible. “He will be here,” she reassured herself. She was just so nervous that fear was starting to creep in. Insecurity was always causing her to doubt things that she knew. Especially when it came to love. He wouldn’t disappoint her. She knew it.
When she finally saw him she ran and jumped on him. He stumbled back a step, but caught her. Her heart was racing as she looked into his eyes for the first time. The busy airport around them faded away. All there was was Liam. She couldn’t seem to think or breathe. All she could do was feel.
The love she felt grew and intensified in that moment. All her fears melted away. The nervousness subsided. This moment in time would forever be perfect. Liam’s arms were around her as they looked into one another’s eyes. She had dreamed of this moment for months, yet they were mere fantasy. This was different. This was real. And it was beautiful.
Too soon he let her slide to her feet. His arms around her didn’t loosen. His eyes never left hers. All of the emotions flooding through her were incredible. And intense. Neither of them had said a word. It was unnecessary. This was a time to put words aside and feel. Just feel.
Her mind began to clear and her thoughts came rushing back. As he leaned into her she smiled. This was yet another moment she had spent hours dreaming of. She knew nothing in her imagination could have ever prepared her for this moment. The thought made a small laugh escape her lips.
The next instant his lips were pressing into hers. All of the thoughts that had been rushing through her mind disappeared. The kiss started out soft and full of emotion. She could feel his love for her in that kiss. There was no denying it. Her knees felt weak and her mind a little foggy. She deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency. She had needed this moment for so long and it was finally here.
She wasn’t able to identify exactly why she was crying; maybe it was because she knew he was bad for her, that his words were most likely false. Still she knew he’d hooked her and she couldn’t give him up, even though he wasn’t fully hers and she’d never been any good at sharing.
A memory resurfaced in her head, she was fourteen and was shrieking at her younger sister because she’d borrowed one of her tops, a pastel-blue one with a butterfly made out of multi-coloured sequins on it.
‘Take it off,’ she’d screamed at her.
Her sister, a year younger but blonder and taller simply shrugged and started to walk off, so she grabbed out at her and pulled at the side of the top. Her sister squealed and tried to hit her hands away. The fabric started to stretch and alter in shape and then she tugged too hard and watched as the fabric split and the sequins fell to the floor like a tumbling rainbow.
Instead of feeling sad at the demise of her top she merely found herself smiling. That was the way she had always been, she’d rather destroy something than share it and this theory never changed, that was until she met Jay.
Hiding the note away in her bedside draw she grabbed her make-up bag and looking into her oval, metal-framed mirror she began to dab foundation over her blotchy skin, adding a new coat of mascara and pouting out her lips as she carefully applied a shiny rose lip-gloss
Looking at her made-up face she was pleased that she could at least fool people into thinking she was okay, even if inside her heart was aching.
My mom almost died upon giving birth to me and it is because she had experienced painless vaginal bleeding during her third trimester pregnancy or in medical terms known as “Placenta Previa”, a complication of pregnancy but this case is rare and it’s an EMERGENCY cesarian delivery or else both mother and child will die. Only this occurs in 1 out of 200 pregnancies and in my mom’s case, well, since her age is 38 that time so she’s really high risk. She gave birth to me on her 8th month which left me to be born prematurely or else both of us will die. (I was in the incubator they said for 2 months).
That’s why I love my mom so much. I always feel her undying love and unconditional support that she gives to me until now. I could even remember when I was 6 years old, she even asked one of the hospital’s director if she can bring me inside the operating room just once for me to witness them operate a patient and because of my mom being so persistent they approved on it and there I was a 6 year old girl wearing a green operating gown with a mask and gloves on, all geared up and looking at them on one corner of the room just sitting quietly and watching on how they delivered a baby. That’s an experience too that I can never forget and that’s all because of mom.
I have a sad confession to make, at one point in time I was addicted to Vampire Wars on facebook. What can I say? I was a bored housewife. Needless to say my friends list grew rapidly. Most of the people I had never really talked to outside of an occasional “hi, how are you”. I quit playing over a year ago, yet still had many of the friends I’d made through the game.
Shortly after becoming a single mom I began to chat with one of those friends, Chris. I was online one night and he popped up and started a conversation. We instantly hit it off. I felt like I could tell him anything and everything without fear of being judged or having it repeated. Which for me is HUGE! I don’t trust people as a general rule.
At the time he was going through a divorce and I had just ended my almost 10 year relationship with the father of my boys. So neither of us were looking for anything more than friendship. I was amazed at how easily that friendship came. Over the next few months his support was AMAZING. I’m not sure I would have made it through the insanity of it all without him. The fact that we were both going through similar situations helped. We kept each other sane through the insanity.
I found myself with a ridiculous smile every time I saw him online. Yet, I didn’t realize the possibilities that were there. I had myself pretty convinced that it was all about having a friend who understood me. Don’t get me wrong, that is incredible in its own right. But what I was on the verge of finding was so much more than I could have ever anticipated…