Writing: Enjoy the Journey

It has been a long time since I posted and though I often vow to keep up with this website, it does run away from me. Life has been happening. Lots of life. I had been in a long distance relationship for a year and I have been in this situation before on many occasions, but this one was different. The love was there for sure, but the reality of it ever being the sort of traditional relationship society covets was way off the mark. There were too many factors working against us.

I have always been the type to want to be friends when a relationship has ended, because for me to fall in love, there had to be a friendship first. I believe sometimes people can mistake that feeling of deep friendship for relationship/romantic love. A deep connection with another person can give you the feels. After an anniversary trip to Virginia which was fifty-fifty on its good and bad parts, I ended the romantic relationship. It was a hard decision, but we were both miserable in the place the relationship had gone, and I knew he would never cut the rope.

This ending proved to give us a new beginning. We still love each other and the desire to go out into the world and adventure never left us. Traditional relationships are not for everyone and the push to have something like that is hard to ignore especially if you are surrounded by people who buy into those ideas. There is nothing wrong with finding the person you love, getting married, and living out your lives together. It is a beautiful and wonderful thing. For me, the closed ended commitment feels like a millstone, a suffocation, a resentment. Who wants that?

My life has been full of traumas both big and small. It makes me hard to live with and a bit feral when pushed in the corner to conform. I’m not radical person, but I like the freedom to move about in my own world without the permission of someone else, or having to expressly curtail what my heart desires. I did that for my whole life. This last leg of my years I want to enjoy the journey.

He and I have planned adventures for the rest of the year in places neither of us have ever been. There will be hiking and disc golf, exploring towns and events, and acting like carefree children. Neither of us had a childhood that anyone wants to hear about and this is a chance for us to regain that time and enjoy what nature has to offer.

On a writing front, I have not been submitting much poetry but I have been writing it. I have been reading books, editing my novel, loving my cats, spending time with my kid, playing disc golf, and working at the hospital. In July, I am going on a 20 mile, 2 night hike on the Finger Lakes Trail. It is something I’ve never done before but have always wanted to do. This will be a challenge of letting things go and accepting what my body can or cannot do. I am here to dive into the present moment. I am here to live with a sense of freedom and wonder. In these times where Covid has taken so much from us, I am taking something back.

I hope to submit more work so I can tell you about it if it gets published. Thanks for sticking with me even through the quiet times. Be kind to each other. Stay safe. Write often.

Published: Anthology: the flower shop on the corner from Red Penguin Collective

I am happy to announce my poem “Lofty Notes of Pine” appears in the anthology “the flower shop on the corner” from Red Penguin Collective. It is an anthology full of poems based on and around nature. You can pick it up on Amazon here for $3.99. It is 112 pages of poetry. Thank you for supporting writers and poetry.

Flash Fiction: Lost Parts of Speech

“You don’t lay claim to an inch of me, no one does,” Sarah shouted to the ravine below her. 

She dangled there with one hand gripping the root of a small tree. One small misstep and there she was with the river ready to swallow her in a moment’s notice.

This is what I get, she thought, shoulder aching from holding her own weight. 

The burn was so beautiful and painful. Her mind delirious from nearly drowning in the river the day before, from swollen knees and a continually bruised ego. Sarah hadn’t slept in 36 hours. Everything about her existed on fumes and all she could do was dangle there and laugh.

The fine line of dying and living was juicy and present, more so than it had ever been. Sarah didn’t care if she fell to her death, it was that simple. She let herself sway there until the tiny fibers of her rotator cuff frayed like cheap twine.

She swung her body slightly, just enough to reach her other arm up to the branch. This arm was fresh and new to the texture of the bark. The other arm had been more intimate with its bite.

“Today isn’t the day,” she yelled across the river and the temperate forest, “you can’t have me today.” 

Sarah flung a leg over the branch, working silently to pull the bulk of her body to a more terrestrial footing. On solid ground, she collected her thoughts, looked back at the death she could have succumbed to. Sarah leaned back onto the wet leaves and inhaled the smell of loam and worms. She smiled at the feeling of her heart racing inside her chest. She would have to stand up and find the trail she had so carelessly lost.

“You don’t lay claim to me.” Her voice fading into the air. “Not this time.”