Stories and Apricots

 This weekend I went to jail. It’s the first time I have ever been to “jail” actually and to tell you the truth, it wasn’t terrible. Of course the jail I’m talking about is a Twitter Time Out. 

Apparently telling the British Prime Minister that he should have knocked Trump out when he had the chance is a GIANT NO, NO in Twitter terms. Whoops. Lesson learned. 

Personally, I didn’t mean it as a threat to ole Donny Boy but some Trumpster took it as such and reported me and so to jail I went. However...during my 12 hour reflection period, I decided that if I’m going to jail for “inciting violence or wishing harm to someone” than my dear friend Trump is coming with me. 

I went to Trump’s Twitter page, scrolled through each of his rage tweets and reported over 15...15 tweets that most definitely appeared to be menacing in tone and most definitely filled to the brim with threats and violence! Like I said...if I’m going to cyber jail for merely suggesting Trump getting punched then this man and his four year Twitter Tirades deserve a prison shanking. 

Now, I can’t say for sure that I am the one to blame for Trump’s Twitter account being permanently banned but I’d like to think I had a part in that equation. 

You’re welcome. Finally...some peace and fucking quite. I mean...when other countries are asking if we’re okay? You know we’re NOT OKAY! But I know we will be. I know not just this country but the entire world will soon begin its healing process, as long as we all keep moving forward in order to do so. 

I guess the events of past week finally came to a head. I guess watching bullying occur not only from America’s supposed leader and all his crybaby cronies but ‘keyboard warriors’ from all over the world in general, had me hitting my breaking point. 

Sprinkle all of that drama on top of missed sleep...and you have yourself a big ass, angry bull ready to take out the next person who throws a spear. Fortunately for you all, it was Trump throwing the weapon and me not taking the bullshit anymore. 

****Fun Facts****

Whether it’s true or not...according to folklore...if you find it hard to sleep or can’t sleep at all...supposedly it’s because you are active in someone’s dream world. With that said, whomever is dreaming about me...we better be having a damn good time. And as the pattern has been going...you seem to stop dreaming about me 6am my time. Although, I’m sure I’m having fun and so are you...this lady is tired and needs her beauty rest. Seeing the sun rise is glorious but at this point, it has worn of its novelty. I’d rather have the shut eye, my love....whomever you are. 

****Fun Facts Over and Out****

My time out wasn’t all terrible though. I spent most of my Friday busy with work and tackling other projects. I even dubbed my Friday night as “Female Flicks Friday.” Which I considered research more than just vegging out. 

I am in the first stages of attempting to write and hopefully publish a fan fiction story based on-you guessed it-Alex Høgh Andersen. 

And what did I learn during last night’s research? 

This....

MAN OH MAN DO I HAVE MY WORK CUT OUT FOR ME! 

The two movies I picked for my pseudo research were After and it’s sequel After We Collided. I found them on Netflix and I settled right in. Got cozy couch side. 

I had heard about these two movies and knew they that were created after books under the same names. Books that fall in ranks with the Twilight series and that god awful collection, Fifty Shades. Some of you might have liked the Fifty Shades of whatever series and that’s fine. To each their own but for me, the first book was all it took to realize I couldn’t get on board. 

I finished the damn thing but when it was over, I seriously debated setting it on fire. I don’t believe in burning books and that’s why I didn’t but I damn sure wouldn’t hesitate if it was between me staying warm and this book being sacrificed as the kindling. 

Twilight was a decent series and again you can agree or disagree. That’s fine. Again...to each their own. I enjoyed this series in my 20’s...so it has a slight bit of nostalgia attached. The very first book was leant to me by a younger cousin. I was going to Italy and wanted a quick read and she suggested it and I said okay. Most bibliophiles never pass up any book that gets leant to them...and truth be told...it was perfect for a ten day trip. I also felt an instant connection to Bella. We are both always injuring ourselves just by waking up. 

Plot Twist though! I recently rewatched all Twilight films on one snowy dark day in October and I have to say....Edward and Bella are absolutely ridiculous. He’s a weird stalker and she’s completely blind to all those GIANT RED FLAGS. What was I thinking??? 

I wasn’t expecting much from After and After We Collided. And truthfully they weren’t that bad. They definitely kept my interest but there where certain points where I cringed at the stupidity and drama these two young lovebirds often displayed. 

I thought to myself many times, “Jesus...no wonder gals and guys and relationships and human connection is so utterly twisted. Does anyone communicate anymore? Can’t you see that one bitch is jealous? Can’t you just ask about an uncomfortable situation instead of flying off the handle?” 

Each movie seemed to have an occurring theme: two people who claim to love one another just can’t seem to sit down and have a freaking conversation. 

Assumptions ultimately turning into war. Oh the drama...damn I’m glad I’m over this stage in my life. 

Personally, I’m tired of the cliché bad boy/vestal Virgin story line...yet it’s been the storyline for decades. It’s the love story of all love stories...but it’s tired and old and literally messing with everyone’s psyche. 

I remember as a kid one of my mother’s favorite films was Picnic. It too was the same bullshit. Pure, innocent girl gets swept under her feet by the misunderstood bad guy. 

Years later when I watched this movie as an actual adult...I literally had a ‘Come to Jesus’ talk with my mom that went a little something like this. 

Me: Mom...I just watched Picnic as an adult. 

Mom: Oh...I love that movie. 

Me: Of course you do...no wonder you picked three guys to marry that were the absolute worst for you. You saw a problem and wanted to fix it! 

Mom: *falls to silence* 

Me: Yea...the guy with no job, who’s an emotional mess, the brooding misunderstood type was the one you wanted? Because he’s edgy and a fresh breath of complicated air. No wonder it took me years to decipher the hot mess is not my mess to clean up. 

Mom: *nervously laughs* but thinks about it for a minute. 

Ladies and gentlemen...listen to what I am about to say....A PARTNER IS NOT A PROJECT. A dramatic relationship isn’t exciting nor the basis for real passion. It’s absolute chaos and not worth the tears you waste. 

Right now...I’m having this same exact talk with my eldest nephew whom at 20 is experiencing his very first heartbreak. And yea...heartbreaks suck but at 20...rest assured it’s not going to be the only one you are going to have....rest assured it won’t even come close to other heartbreaks that you will experience throughout your lifetime. 

I know I always mention my age on this blog but I do this specifically because as the saying goes, “with age comes wisdom.” I’m not pointing my age out to appear better than you if you happen to be younger...it’s just the only way I can best explain then to now and all that happens in between those two points. 

Yes..you will completely be different at 20 or 25 or 30 than you were ten years prior but you are comparing ages 10, 15, and 20. Of course you will experience some major milestones but when it comes down to it...those milestones are still very much cushioned...you are still very much sheltered. You may believe everything is so massive. That that one relationship is the only great love you’ll ever experience. That every mishap and misstep is the end of the world. That everything has to be so dramatic in order for it to be real. But that isn’t the case. Most mountains that you created out of mole hills when you are younger, end up being nonexistent gravel pits by the time you reach my age. I am 40, by the way. 

It took me reaching 31 and hitting rock bottom to realize both the life and the relationships we choose to have don’t have to come with such heavy burden. 

Drama doesn’t equal truth....and the sooner you all realize this, the better off you’ll be. And this is all coming from someone who’s been there and done that. 

I once was that naive young girl...much like all these characters you read about or see movies on. I have had that magnetic attraction to the bad boy. I have been with that guy that was just no good for me because I wanted to help him heal. I have been with that person that literally sucked up all my happy! These relationships didn’t last and all I ended up being was a stepping stone, scapegoat, and the one that changed the guy in a better way for his next partner. 

I have been in those relationships where lust was misconstrued as love and sex was confused with commitment. 

I spent most of 2019 silently mourning the loss of an ex. He was much like all these romanticized fictional bad boys. Our affair was a roller coaster ride of epic proportions. I wasn’t mourning us though...because I had already done that years prior-after the last but final time, we called it quits. This go round, I was mourning the choices he made that ultimately led to his death...but because I was married, mourning an ex isn’t necessarily easy. You can’t necessarily be seen crying days on end over a past love without hurting the partner you’re with....and no where in this world would I ever want my husband to feel the inferiority that I always felt with my ex. 

The ex and I were together for four years. But for most of those years...I was the “dumb girl” who spent years trying to be the center of his world...instead of one of his many groupies. The only time it seemed I was recognized was when he was coming down off of something or when I broke it off after finding out he cheated whichever time that was. He would make these grand gestures to win me back and I fell for it every single time. He would be on his best behavior for a few weeks and our relationship would be amazing but because we only had two speeds: tragic or not tragic...he would end up succumbing to his addictive tendencies. I know in my souls of souls...he is and was a good man. The addiction to a fast life and all that that encompasses, was much too strong for us ever to survive. No matter how passionate and much love we truly had for the other. It took me moving away to finally cut the ties that bound us together. And still he wanted to follow me to where I was moving. 

“If you do care about me, you will move elsewhere or stay here.” I told him. 

“If you love her, then please let her go. You have done enough damage.” A friend said to him. 

I still walk with the burden that had he actually moved where I was, he might have turned his life around and still be alive and this kills me. 

Six months before died, we became friends again...after ten years of no contact. It was my husband’s urging. He saw this as closure. He got the girl my ex threw away. My husband had empathy and compassion for the guy. Also, I think the universe wanted us to get right with one another because it knew what was about to happen. 

We bonded over music-something that always connected us-but this time, it was different. We were forging unfamiliar territory...an actual friendship. During this time he saw the musician we both adored. I happen to tell him a favorite tune. The lyrics could have described us but in fact the lyrics to me described another life situation. He video taped part of the concert...during the same song we discussed.

He sang the lyrics as if he was singing them to me. As a way to apologize. I received the message loud and clear because the guy I always knew never did anything unintentionally. 

A month or two after that he wrote a lengthy social media post about the new girl he was dating and how this go he was going to be a decent dude...because when he wasn’t he lost the one woman he has regretted losing ever since. Another cryptic message left for me to untangle. 

Our connection and everything we had hashed out over the years, led me to believe the woman he was talking about was me...with a 95% chance of being right. His bed was a revolving one and after he passed, there was one woman after the next shouting from the rooftops their love for this guy. When I say he a had a fan club of women...it’s not an understatement. 

The thing is when he passed away his best friend had a heart-to-heart with me, 

“You were his kryptonite....you were the one that got away....*laughing*....he even told me if I ever tried to date you, he’d kill my ass.” 

Regardless, if that one post he wrote was meant for me or not, I still needed to hear these words. The young wounded girl needed to hear those words. 

I forgive my ex and the sting of his death is still there but it’s dulling with time. In another life, I hope he gets his chance to live a long and less self destructive one. I hope in his next life, he gets his happily ever after. 

Our love affair very much mirrored every love story about girl loving boy, boy loving girl...but in a completely toxic way. Too many outside influences. Too many distractions. Too many ups and downs and all arounds. Life and relationships should have more depth than this crazy ride.

And sure...it makes for an interesting read but it just perpetuates the problem. Toxic relationships, no matter how much you love someone, never come with a fairytale ending. If it’s nothing but drama from the get go, then that’s how it always will be. 

Another life lesson I didn’t learn until I was 30.

That night my past was in my present and all the consequences from choices made like this one-staring me down. Forcing me to come to terms with my own damn reflection. And it was a reflection I didn’t recognize anymore. 

So here is my conundrum? These crazy moments are definite rites of passages and part of the growing pains that define someone but the world has an addiction to them. I was the smart, innocent girl that lost herself in a relationship. I went after the bad boys that were hot AF and emotionally unavailable. I was the audience that wanted that reunion to be solidified in the most dramatic, grand way possible-which also happened to include a rainstorm. 

Now I’m like, 

“Sorry but I’m not getting drenched while someone professes their love to me. We can have this chat indoors.” 

Now I think, 

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me more than that and I’m done.” 

Now I act like, 

“Can we talk about what’s bothering us?” 

And maybe I’m having hard time figuring out where my fan fiction story will go because I don’t consider myself a fiction writer at all but I know can do this and those are just fears getting in the way. I know I can write this story because I already have the muse. I just want it to be different. I don’t want some otherwise rad woman being a dope when it comes to this one area in their life and I don’t want my leading dude, to be a tornado destroying everything in its path. 

I want my characters to inspire. I want them to be witty and edgy but realistic. I don’t want my fan fiction work to be just another regurgitated version of something you’ve already read. So how do I do that...because honestly...what I write no matter how different I think it might be, has probably still already been done? 

I don’t want girls or women to feel like they only have two options in a partner: the devil or the saint? I don’t want the Alex of my story to be one dimensional. He has to have more depth than just being resorted to a hot piece of ass. And yes, in a lot of fan fiction stories based purely on the Alex we all see on TV and social media, is just that. This guy may not know this but he’s literally been put in every sexual situation out there. In one story, he sexually chokes some chic out after they have this super intense fight. 🤦🏻‍♀️😳 WTF? 

Like...hands around neck...chocking, SNM type stuff. One more time...to each their own and I’m alright with sex being slightly aggressive...a light ass spanking never hurt anyone but damn...that’s too much. Too. Much. Specifically since it only seemed to happen after they threw down in some heated argument. I don’t even think the argument was ever resolved. I’m telling you this...my husband nor I don’t even one to be in the same room if we’ve had a massive fight. Much less play the no pants dance. We consider ourselves lucky if we are on speaking terms the very next day. 

Real relationships aren’t just based on sex...nor are they based on the battles that occur. And even though I understand fiction is a way to reach a fantasy world, I still want my story to be relatable. ‘Cuz some of this shit is absolutely ridiculous. 

I want my female leads to be like me in a way...strong, confident, capable and not naive to the world around them. I want them to be independent and experienced. To speak up and take no shit. I want them to be me at 40, not me at 15, 20, and 30. 

I want them to be smarter and more aware to toxic behavior. I want them to know that there are more choices out there than the broken messes written in as the love interest. And even if there is a time when both characters are broken messes, the behavior is changed with one event, not a lifetime of choices. 

And I guess that’s what this whole writing adventure is all about? Me. Being in charge of how my version of fiction pans out. It’s uncharted territory and a journey I’m excited to take. 

Who knows, maybe in my story....my version of Alex will fall in love with a successful older woman that has her shit together and isn’t so willing to chase after the shit storm...or maybe I will reverse it and make her the bad girl and him the giant pile of mush that just loves the train wreck? 

Maybe I’ll put him and her in an apocalyptic world where they both fight zombies and never get involved? 

Maybe I’ll make her a figment of his imagination? 

Maybe I’ll make him a dead ex that won’t pass until she’s happy again? 

Maybe I will make them best friends who finally realize it was the other person all along? 

Maybe it will be a best seller...maybe it will make waves and change how we romanticize toxic relationships and toxic behavior? 

Maybe it will be made into a movie that every girl and woman alive can relate to and get behind? 

Maybe, just maybe it will become my biggest creative odyssey ever? 

Here’s to the unknown, here’s to the past and lessons learned. Here’s to an imaginative future that’s been screaming my name for years now. Here’s to showing a different kind of love story. 

~x~

Hope

🎧music inspiration for post🎧

Stories by Def Musique 

Apricots by Bicep