Lubita Love Stories

So, in reference to my question from yesterday if anyone would buy a book of my stories if I were to...

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 15:21:00 -0400

So, in reference to my question from yesterday if anyone would buy a book of my stories if I were to make one, I actually am going to make one and sell it online. Well, there will be more than one eventually because I can’t fit all of my stories in the 80 page range (if I go more than 80 pages I have to pay more D:). In this book, there will also be an extra poem I wrote for a love of my own and an additional 4 part story that was never featured on this blog. :)

The book is not done yet, and I still have to get new pictures to go with the stories (I can’t find the original credit for half the pictures I reblogged and used on here so I have to take my own photos) but it WILL be a reality in the near future! :)

Questions/comments/thoughts?

If I made a book filled with my stories and sold it online, would you guys buy it?

Thu, 26 Apr 2012 13:50:46 -0400

If I made a book filled with my stories and sold it online, would you guys buy it?

Change A year ago, I would have believed it. A year ago, he...

Thu, 26 Apr 2012 04:22:39 -0400

Change

A year ago, I would have believed it. A year ago, he would play with my hair and whisper in my ears and make me feel beautiful. A year ago, we would playfully smack each other’s shoulders and slam each other against walls when our hearts overfilled with romance and desire. A year ago, I would find notes everywhere I went with reminders of his love. A year ago, the static shock between our fingertips would give me a feeling I could write about for years. A year ago, he would show up on my doorstep with a bouquet of sunflowers (my favorite flower, as he knew very well) with a plan for a surprise date. A year ago, he would refuse to let me pay for dinners and still manage to buy me random gifts when my days were simply not up to par. But a lot can change in a year, I am sure. It’s funny how time works.

A year ago, I had someone to vent to. Someone to talk to when I was feeling low. A year ago, I had a lover and a best friend. Six months ago, I did not.

Six months ago, I would have still believed it when he said “I love you.” But I probably shouldn’t have. Six months ago, he would tell me I smelled nice or looked pretty on his way out the door to meet his friends. Six months ago, he would show up on my doorstep with a bouquet of sunflowers, with an apology card attached. Six months ago, I would find notes in places sometimes, once in a while. Six months ago, he would slam me up against walls, to ask me why I’ve been so closed off to him all night. Six months ago, we wouldn’t have to worry about who’s paying for dinner, considering how seldom it happened.

I can’t say that it’s all his fault, for I am partly at fault for letting it progress like this. Six months can be a long time. Some people even treat it like an anniversary, so it must be at least a little while. Six months ago, I would have believed it. But now, I don’t.

I paced back and forth at the gate. I had been waiting twenty minutes for Alex to show up. My fingers tingled and my knees shook the entire time I had been waiting. I checked my phone often. I hoped he hadn’t bailed on me.

I heard his footsteps from behind me at that point. He squeezed through the side of the gate and met me face-to-face. He waited for me to start, but it was hard for me to speak. It’s easy to think about the bad things. It’s easy to think about the times he’s yelled at you, the times he’s cursed you for doing something completely reasonable, the times he’s left you crying all night while he was out with his friends or playing a game all night, completely unaffected by it. Then he forgets in the morning and doesn’t even ask how your night was. It’s easy to think about how you waited up for him until your eyelids were heavier than the Earth itself, only to be ignored for something trivial. It’s easy to think about how little he cared when you went to him depressed and he shoved it off as another one of your “moods.” Those are easy to think about.

But once your mind betrays you and lets in those good memories, as far in the past as they may be, that’s hard. Then it suddenly doesn’t matter how many times he’s left you crying, because all you can think of is that first day you saw his enlightening smile, or that time he asked you to dance in the morning sun when you weren’t even dressed yet. Your mind brings you back to that one love letter you received in the mail without warning, or the time you baked cookies together around Christmas time and both ate half of the dough.

I took a deep breath and gulped down my thoughts.

“Thanks for coming.” I managed to stay.

“You said it was important.” He replied. Even through my mind’s betrayal, I know that even a bystander who was not involved would know we had a broken relationship. His eyes were vacant of emotion and I was clearly holding back tears.

“Yes, it is. It’s important.” I vaguely said.

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s about us.” I sighed, and he did too. I saw him take a gulp. No matter how bad things turn out to be…nobody ever wants to deal with this.

“I figured.” He said.

“I don’t think we should…keep trying…anymore.” My voice was breaking. My head felt like it weighed a ton. He gave me a saddened smile and chuckled. I smiled back, but it was a puzzled smile.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“That you said we shouldn’t keep trying anymore.” He explained. “As if we’re trying at all.” He stopped laughing, and I looked down. He was right, and we both knew it. We stopped making an effort a long time ago.

“We shouldn’t be together anymore.” I forced out. It surprised me that I was even able to say it, and I felt weak and empty the moment it came out. I have to be realistic to myself. Things have turned for the worst, and we just cannot function together. But that doesn’t mean my feelings for him have diminished. His have for me, that part is certain. But part of me still loved him, and so it still hurt to leave.

“I know.” He said.

“Part of me still loves you…but I just can’t anymore.” I said through tears. I couldn’t keep it inside anymore.

“Part of me still wants to make this work, but I just don’t love you anymore.” He replied. I tried not to weep as he said this. It was very difficult, but in the end, I was able to. I wiped away the tears that had forced themselves out of me already, and I did not let another one escape.

“So I guess this is goodbye.” I said after a few minutes of silence. He took a couple steps forward until his forehead was resting against mine. He leaned in and kissed me, and I could taste the finality on his lips.

“I suppose it is.” He replied, looking into my eyes.

“Goodbye, Alex.” I said.

“Goodbye Raven.” That was the last he said to me before turning and walking away. I waited for him to be completely gone before falling to the ground and letting myself break down. I told myself I did the right thing, despite what my heart is feeling, but it was hard to convince myself. I reminded myself of the bad times in our relationship, and how this was inevitable. I reminded myself of what we both agreed on just now…that even though I love him, I can’t deal with the relationship; and even though he wants the relationship, he doesn’t love me.

Sometimes love can fade just as fast as happiness can.

-xLLSx-

fuckyeahhlove: moofinsmoofin: I am holding my first ever...

Mon, 09 Apr 2012 22:49:43 -0400

fuckyeahhlove:

moofinsmoofin:

I am holding my first ever contest on Tumblr! Woohoo!

ABOUT

So, basically, the contest is to guess how much money is in the paint can in the above picture. I only have two photos of this paint can with all of the change in it, and they are pretty much the same angle. This is purely a guessing game!

RULES AND HOW TO ENTER

Enter by reblogging ONCE with your guess. Multiple guesses do not count.

Messages with guesses do not count. Only reblogs.

You do not have to be following me, but you might want to for when I announce the winner. :)

The person who has guessed the EXACT amount or closest to the exact amount will WIN! THIS INCLUDES CHANGE! Let’s say the amount is $2.00. The person who guesses $1.00 will LOSE to the person who guesses $1.62!!

CONTEST ENDS APRIL 30TH. WINNERS WILL BE ANNOUNCED MAY 1ST.

Leave your ask open! It’s how I will tell you you won!

THERE IS MORE THAN ONE WINNER! The person who guesses the closest to the exact amount will just get to choose which prize they want before all the runner ups. I AM GIVING AWAY ALL OF THE PRIZES SHOWN!

PRIZES

(These prizes are small because this contest is mainly just for fun! Also take note that I do not ship internationally. You must live in the U.S. to win. However, you may still enter if you live outside the U.S.A. if you want to just see if you can guess the amount.)

$20 in lottery scratch-offs, your choice of which ones (meaning you can choose if you want $20 in all different $1 tickets, $2 tickets, just one $20 ticket, etc…)

3 books of your choice from my local Barnes & Noble (each book not to exceed $15 each)

Two Pirates of the Caribbean keychains (picture shown below)

Three cookbooks (picture shown below)

A t-shirt from this website of your choice (not to exceed $24.99).

This means there will be FIVE POSSIBLE WINNERS of this contest. You have five days to respond to my message before I choose another winner to take your place. THIS IS NOT A GIVEAWAY. This is a contest and random likes/reblogs will not count toward the drawing.

If this gets no notes and no enters I will cry myself to sleep and nonchalantly delete this post. That being said, that’s really all you need to know. :) Oh, and here are the pictures of the keychains and the cookbooks:

My gf is having a contest. =)

woah! :O Thank you, crazy amount of new followers!

Thu, 05 Apr 2012 10:36:37 -0400

woah! :O Thank you, crazy amount of new followers!

Omg. Your stories get me EVERY time. Dx Keep up what you're doing and I'll keep following and reading. You have my full support!

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 22:57:39 -0400

Thank you! I’m glad I still have some followers after my very long and unplanned hiatus! D:

Memory “Hey, you’ve reached Richard. I can’t get to the phone...

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 22:25:45 -0400

Memory

“Hey, you’ve reached Richard. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll call you back!” I instinctively hung up the phone after the beep sounded. I called you three times tonight, which is three times less than last night, and God only knows how many less than the night before that. I can’t stop calling. I can’t stop hearing that voicemail and desperately wanting to leave a message, but never bringing myself too. These past few nights, my life has repeated. I never fail to feel that bubbling pain in my throat, that regret in the bottom of my heart. I never fail to stir up the same old memories.

Do you remember, my dear? Do you remember that day we decided to stay inside? We laid in bed all day and talked through while the sun blessed us with its warmth through the cracks in your window. We fantasized of running away together, leaving our teenage years and high school dramatics behind. I remember unbuttoning your pale white polo shirt, and you gave me a smirk that I will never forget. A look that has been imprinted in my mind ever since you flashed me it. A look of wanting and desire. You tore off your shirt and gently took hold of my hair. You lingered your lips on my neck and I sat still, stunned. As I was about to mutter the words, “Wait, I’m not ready.” You told me a joke that made me laugh out loud. You pulled back to look at me and I saw you were laughing as well. Your wide smile exposing your bright white teeth, you held my face until our laughter faded to silence. I bit my lip as you murmured your first “I love you” to me.

“Casey, I love you.” You said. I could barely return it before pressing my euphoric lips to yours. I felt your smile against mine.

A few times, we have laughed together. Our boisterous roars have been heard through bedroom walls and school halls, as well as theaters and lonely diners. Late nights laying in bed or passing notes in a boring classroom, we would chuckle and bellow until our ribs would clam up. Sometimes, it would get us into trouble, especially when it was during school. We shared one class together, a mathematics class. The teacher was old and mundane, droning on and on of subjects we had no interest in. We scribbled on torn pieces of lined paper, cheesy pick-up lines and jokes that only we would understand. Sometimes she would yell, sometimes she would threaten, and one time she even read our notes aloud. But we didn’t mind, did we? We looked at each other red in the face and gave each other a matching, confident smile. One day, however, she was fed up with our antics and sent us to the principal’s office. We sat in an empty hall on back-breaking chairs, awaiting our names to be called. Boy, did we laugh then. We had to muffle our chuckles and forcefully hold our hands over our mouths, as we sat outside the office, staring at each other and laughing together. I first noticed your eyes that day, your forest green eyes. Like a separate world of elegant moss, they were. I almost couldn’t laugh when staring at them for so long, until you pulled me into another inside joke.

It certainly was not the last time I had noticed them. I made quite the habit of sneaking out to see you, my love. I just couldn’t stay away. My parents told me I wasn’t in love, I was only sixteen and it couldn’t be. They were wrong, and we both knew it. So I snuck out to pursue that knowledge, and there I was that one hot summer night. It was a quarter to midnight and we just finished playing a round of video games, playfully arguing and trash talking each other’s strategies. We carelessly threw our controllers under your bed, and I walked into the corner of your room to dig through your closet.

“What are you doing?” You asked, giggling uncontrollably and rolling your eyes. I didn’t answer you and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I pulled out a plain white t-shirt of yours.

“I was looking for this.” I vaguely explained, no longer hiding my smile. I flashed a wide and suggestive grin at you.

“Why?” You asked, returning my grin but remaining confused.

“Because,” I began. “I need something to change into.” I saw your smile fade as I slowly lifted my dress over my head. I followed by unclipping my bra and slipping off my silk underwear, and quickly throwing your t-shirt over my exposed body. You stared at me attentively, not looking away for a second. I tip-toed over to the bed and climbed onto your lap. I ran my fingers through your soft hair, staring into your eyes. Neither of us said a word as I kissed you softly. The night lasted forever.

After the first night we made love, our level of intimacy was greatly increased, and we took every chance we were given to bask in our romance, even outdoors in the dampened night. We took a stroll to our favorite nearby park after the sun had gone to rest, our shoes squeaking on the wet ground from the early rain. Your hand was laced in mine, and we barely said anything that night. We sat on a bench together, your fingers tracing my naked collarbone up to the pink of my cheeks. Your lips inches from mine, I felt I could smile if only I could move. But you froze me still, moving me only when you wanted to. You whispered that you loved me for the second time. This time, I returned it.

Our relationship was filled with perfect nights and smiles aimed toward only each other, except for one night. We got into one fight, on a day I had snuck out to spend the night in your house. It was over something petty, but boy, do you have a temper at times. You yelled at me and I yelled back until I was brought to tears. I ran from you and locked myself in the bathroom, using the inside of my arms to soak up my tears. You knocked on the door a couple times, trying to get me to come out, but then gave up after I refused, or so I thought. A few minutes later, a folded up piece of paper slid through the crack underneath the door. I wiped away the wetness from my eyes and slowly unfolded it.

Casey, It read. Write back if you love me still.

A sharpie marker slowly rolled through the crack shortly after. I scribbled on the note that I indeed still loved you, and no amount of fighting will change that. A short moment went by and the note was returned.

I’m sorry. It said. That was all it said, but that was enough for me. I stood up and slowly opened the door to see you standing there in front of me with soft, sorrowful eyes. I said nothing, and neither did you. I just wrapped my arms around you and closed my eyes. We stayed like that for a little while, and soon our usual happiness rose up inside us again. I smiled and kissed your shoulder, and your arms around me grew tighter as I felt you smile back.

The last time I saw you was on our anniversary.

You took me to our special bench at our park. We spent our day together there, celebrating our first year together with cuddling on a park bench, feeding the seagulls, and having a picnic while watching the waves of the lake. We muttered our “I love you”s and gave each other handmade gifts to show our affection. I gave you a homemade card with a poem written inside, and you gave me a notebook full of love letters. I was speechless when I first opened it and read your elegant words.

“I started writing to you within the first months we were together.” You said. “I don’t really know why. I just had so much to say to you.”

I just looked at you like you were made of gold. I had no idea what to say. I hoped that my eyes showed my gratitude enough, but I’m sure they were short. I gave you a long kiss on your soft lips, hoping that maybe that would show you what my eyes couldn’t.

My memories were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” I yelled. My mother barged in and began to tell me to come downstairs for dinner, and then stopped mid-sentence when she noticed the telephone in my hand.

“Casey, what did I tell you about that? Stop calling him! It’s unhealthy!” She yelled. She walked over to me and grabbed the phone out of my hands.

“And throw out that damn newspaper! It’s only making you even worse!” She slammed the door as she left my room. I looked down at the newspaper clipping that was pinned underneath my elbow as I let out a couple tears.

“Young teen dies in car accident.” It read, underneath a photo of two boys. “Richard, 16, left, was killed on impact while his father Jacob, 43, right, survived with some serious injuries.”

The newspaper and the phone were all I had left of you.

-xLLSx-

recommend couple/love blogs to me?

Sun, 25 Mar 2012 12:45:00 -0400

recommend couple/love blogs to me?

I enjoy reading your stories! I hope you will be able to post more often. (: Do you know of any other tumblrs like yours?

Sun, 25 Mar 2012 01:42:28 -0400

Thank you. :) I’m working on a few right now, but due to writing so many at a time it’s taking longer than usual.

I wish I did but I actually don’t. :(

I haven’t updated in a very long time…but that will change now.

Sat, 10 Mar 2012 00:26:34 -0500

I haven’t updated in a very long time…but that will change now.

One My toes sunken in drenched sand, the water washed over me up...

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 17:54:26 -0500

One

My toes sunken in drenched sand, the water washed over me up to my thighs as my ankles entangled themselves with every curve of his legs. My dry hands caressed his sandy hair as his eyes stayed shut to enjoy every moment. The waves grew longer and stronger, dampening more parts of our bodies. The sun was nearly gone, creating a soft, blue glow over the shore. The heat hugged us and the sand blessed us. The ocean warned us before crashing over us with excitement. Everything about the beach was within us.

The touch of our lips and the brushing of our skin. The swift movement of our hands and the desperate breaths from our gasps. The sea and the sand watched as we refused to tear apart. Our fingertips became friends, our waists were family and our lips were close lovers.

Nature watched as we became one.

-xLLSx-

I just found your blog. You are an amazing writer! You should get signed and write novels :)

Sat, 14 Jan 2012 20:32:29 -0500

Thank you so much! That is very flattering, but I find writing to be more of a hobby for me. It’s something I do in my leisure time. If it was my career, I feel like I would lose my love and inspiration for it.

Not to mention I can’t write novels to save my life. Only short stories, haha.

Diamond With the sun disappearing over the horizon, the smell of...

Sat, 14 Jan 2012 17:45:19 -0500

Diamond

With the sun disappearing over the horizon, the smell of salt and misty spray of the waves became easy on the senses, but harder on the mind. This morning, I woke up next to an angel with golden streaks in her hair and legs that stretched out to the equator. Next thing I know, the sun is almost gone, just like its brightest season.

Her bare feet sunk in the wet sand as we approached the shore, our fingers laced with the other’s. She looked at me with eyes that matched the water, and I remembered the first time she told me her deepest secret, just 12 days before. A month after we met at the same shoreline. Between the rocks and a rosy sky, we were drawn together through the summer heat. I had never seen something more beautiful before, nor after.

The legends say they’re cold-hearted, bloodthirsty, hungry creatures of the deep. They lure you with the faint touch of their hand or the brush of their hair, and you’re never to be seen again. I’d say, what else can you expect from those stuck in a vast body of water, alone and afraid? When the leaves fall, when grass is stiff with ice, they’re searching for nothing in the sea. But even so, as it would make sense, it isn’t true. I knew when I met her, none of it was true. From her three months on land, I received three months in heaven.

She squeezed my hand before dropping it flat, her eyes set on the water. I pictured this moment from only my perspective. Hiding my sadness, keeping inside my regret and ache, as she happily accepts her home again. I realized my planned out goodbyes would be useless as I witnessed a tear escape her eye, her lashes sparkling in whatever light was left at the far bottom of the sky. She turned her attention away from the waves, and onto me, where I lost my composure entirely.

“I can’t leave.” She spoke, softly. She had an accent like no other, knowing more languages than I can count on one hand. Just one of the things she opened me up to, that I had no idea existed. I placed my hand on her shoulder, the other on the curve of her waist.

“You have to.” I answered, with my forehead resting against hers. She closed her eyes and let more tears fall. They shimmered like diamonds as the light took hold of them. I tried to remember everything we had, everything that happened this summer, with what I thought was just a fling.

How could I not think it was only a fling, at times? During the times I would bring her to a party but we’d hide out in a closet behind a wall of jackets and mops. One of the very first times I took her out to a summer party, she did the same. We had only been seeing each other for a couple weeks, when she shoved me against the wall of the closet, the closeness of the lightbulb ahead completely blinding me until it began to flicker.

With my slurred drunken words, I asked her, “Are you doing that?” while laughing up a storm. She, however, always kept complete composure no matter how much she consumed. She would flash a smile, and mutter in her admirable accent, “Possibly.” As she planted a few more kisses on my lips, before the light blew out entirely.

“Where are you from?” I asked, stumbling. She laughed at me.

“Why?”

“Your…your accent. Are you Scottish? Russian? Indian? It sounds so weird…” She just chuckled again, before placing her arms on my chest and her lips at my ear.

“I’m nothing you’ve ever dreamed of.” She whispered.

I remember her smiles, her laughs, her shattering screams when I’d pick her up in the air, her soft breathing when she slept beside me. Starting today, I’ll remember her tears.

She opened her wet eyes and glanced back at the ocean. Then to me. Then to the ocean. Then back to me.

“Through everything I’ve seen,” She began. “The coastline of the Atlantic, ships bigger than the clouds, and romantic beaches such as this, you are still the best thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, Dakota.”

“And you are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen as well, love.” She smiled to herself as she turned to face the horizon. The sun was almost gone entirely. The sky was no longer pink. There were only a few strays of light that reached out to us.

“It’s time.” She muttered without looking at me. I walked over to her and picked her up into my arms for the last time. I spun her around and memorized her bellowing laugh, until finally stopping to face the waters again, our smiles disappearing. The sun was gone. A couple rays of light shone over the horizon, but the sun was no longer there. I looked down at her legs as they slowly faded into glimmering scales. The golden streaks in her hair died out. Her lips were suddenly dry and chapped, her skin grew pale.

“You never gave me a name.” She whimpered. I could tell she was in pain. She needed the water. I needed her to stay. My mind raced. I tried to find something that would make her happy. I promised her a name. When we first met, bent down on the wet sand, me running from my friends to catch a volleyball, her running from something she refused to tell me until weeks later, I had promised to grant her a name.

“Diamond.” I let slip out. I thought about her eyes on that first day, and her tears in tonight’s sunset. “How about Diamond?”

“I love it.” She said, smiling.

I gave her a long kiss goodbye as I reminded her she had to go. She agreed with me this time. She planted one last, soft kiss on my lips before saying goodbye to me, then splashing off into the waves. My arms felt heavy once they were left empty. My head felt drained. I stared at the water trying to find her, until she popped up about 20 feet back into the water. Her hair glistened, and her skin was tanned. In that short time, she became healthy again. I smiled as I returned her wave to me. Even as she turned back and swam away, I was happy that she was okay. We had a short summer romance, but anything we didn’t experience in these months, only gives us more to live through next year.

-xLLSx-

lesbiansandthelivingdead: dccomicconfessions: All images...

Mon, 09 Jan 2012 10:34:02 -0500

lesbiansandthelivingdead:

dccomicconfessions:

All images belong to superherostuff.com

!!DC COMIC CONFESSIONS 50 DOLLAR LIMIT GIVE AWAY!!

Time for another give away! This one is a bit different from the last. Since I was not able to figure out what I wanted to give away, I decided to let the winner choose! There will be a 50 dollar limit to absolutely ANYTHING on THIS WONDERFUL SITE!

RULES:

You may LIKE or REBLOG to enter the giveaway.

You may reblog TWICE a day.

You must have your askbox open in order to win.

Please no fake account. Chances are I won’t check but come on guys, have some virtue.

Since this is a DC COMIC CONFESSIONS blog what you pick MUST BE DC.

What you pick MUST be 50 dollars. No more than 50 dollars.

You don’t have to be following!

OTHER INFORMATION:

I’ll ship anywhere! No location is too far.

Shipping cost WILL NOT count towards what you choose. I will pay shipping.

There will only be ONE WINNER.

Only things off the provided site will be accepted. Only because I have used this sit many times before and am rather familiar with it. I really like how simple it is to use.

TO LOOK AT THE SITE AND BROWSE GO HERE!

Give away ends February 29TH

Have fun!

I have been putting off ordering from Superhero stuff for too long now (I dont want to pay shipping. Im cheap like that)

Only A Smile “When will I see you again?” She asked....

Fri, 21 Oct 2011 09:53:00 -0400

Only A Smile

“When will I see you again?” She asked. He placed his arms around her waist. Their foreheads grazed each other as he met her chocolate eyes. He lightly gave her a kiss on the tip of her nose, then pressed his lips together and looked away.

“I don’t know.” he replied. He met her gaze again, her uneasy gaze.

“That’s not good enough for me.” Her eyes overflowed and he dried her cheeks with his thumbs. He silenced her weeping.

“How can I be 1,000 miles away from you unknowing of when you’ll come back?” She said through a broken voice.

“Wherever I am, I’m only a smile away.” He drifted his lips to her forehead and rested them there. He tightened his grip on her back. She slid her hands up to his chest and played with the buttons on his shirt. She closed her eyes. She felt his lips pressed against her forehead, smelled his cologne, shivered at the touch of his hands.

“I’ll never forget you.” She whispered. He looked at her again, eyes wide. He caressed her cheek with his hand.

“I’ll never give you the chance.” He leaned down and kissed her. He dragged it out for a while, tasting her lips like he hadn’t in years, or like he wouldn’t again. Her eyes overflowed again as she took in as much of him as she could. He pulled away and rested his forehead on hers again. He noticed she was crying, but he smiled.

“Goodbye, my love.” He ran his fingers through her hair one last time, and then she could no longer feel his touch. She already felt herself forgetting things as she was left alone with the waves. His touch, his kiss. She longed for it one more time. She fell to her knees on the sand. Tears were streaming down her face, but she made not a single weeping sound. She didn’t bury her face in her hands. She didn’t struggle.

She smiled. She smiled, and remembered his kiss, his touch, his scent. She remembered everything as if she was still right next to him, through a smile.

-xLLSx-

When is Drizzle part 2 coming out? (:

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 17:30:32 -0400

I can’t be sure of an exact date, but I want to get in a couple other posts before working on part two of Drizzle. :)

post moreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee i already read them all

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 17:29:52 -0400

Haha, I’ll work on it. :)

The elegant words used here seemingly danced its way from side to side. I am so immensely in love with this blog. Great job!

Wed, 05 Oct 2011 12:00:52 -0400

Thank you so much! This is so appreciated. :)

Numb It was just another day. The sun rose, but it barely...

Wed, 05 Oct 2011 01:29:00 -0400

Numb

It was just another day. The sun rose, but it barely brightened the sky. The light coming through my window was bleak and colorless. My room was grey, just like any other day. It was just as hard to pull myself out of bed as it was yesterday, and the day before that. My pillow was damp. I was crying in my sleep again, and by the crazy arrangement of my sheets, I didn’t sit still either. I’ve been having nightmares like this for months now. It stopped worrying my friends and family a while ago. They’ve come to accept it like I have, but they didn’t go through what I had to accept it.

I crave those five days now. Every day, I wait. I go through a lackluster day of soulless existing just to experience those five days of bliss. Every day is another day closer, but it feels so much longer. I’m closer now, I know it. But I still have about five more months of waiting. Five more months of being numb.

I start my days with criticizing my appearance in the mirror. The bags under my eyes. The frizzy fly-aways on my hair. My sunken skin. I get uglier every day without him, I think to myself. It scares me sometimes. A lot of times, actually. When he finally comes back, he’ll be stronger, happier, and I’ll have turned into an old maid at only twenty-five. That is, if he actually comes back when I turn twenty-five. What if they want him to stay longer? Or worse. What if they ask for volunteers to stay longer, and he wants to? Four more years, a letter per year. How would I be able to survive that? I don’t think I would.

These days, I find it hard to even get dressed. When I do, it’s simple. Jeans and a t-shirt, or a tank top with pajama pants. I spend a lot of time on the computer, running a blog to write down every depressing feeling I have to deal with throughout the day. Sometimes people ask me questions. “How do you deal with it?” “How do you spend years without the one you love?” I don’t know how to answer them anymore. I used to just say something to inspire them, “It’s not hard when you know your love for someone can never break, no matter what you go through.” I still believe that, but I find it hard to instill that belief into others nowadays.

While sitting on my bed with my laptop as a companion, I kept staring at that top drawer of my dresser, our dresser. In our room. It saddens me that I’ve gotten out of the habit of referring to things as ours. It’s been over two years, it’s understandable by now. But it kills me. Everything that reminds me of us, or the fact that I still have about a year and a half longer to wait kills me on the inside. It’s not easy to hide, either. Everyone can see it, and they’re thankfully considerate. They put the least amount of emphasis on Austin as possible. It’s no use, though. I think about him all the time. I can never stop. Every night I read the three letters he’s sent me again. He wrote one on the plane when he was first going to his destination because he knew he’d only be able to write one each year after that. I was always afraid he’d get too tired, and one letter would read, I found someone else or I can’t do this with you anymore, I’m sorry. Luckily, they haven’t. They were always sweet, enriching. I kept them in the top drawer of our dresser underneath some unmentionables, for easy access but also so people wouldn’t stumble upon them (not that I really had company over anymore). I left the letters in the envelopes. I treasured the doodles he had scribbled across the back of each one.

Each drawing represented something inside the letter. The first one had a drawing of the back half of an airplane and a cloud covering the front. The window right before the last had a heart inside of it. His seat was in that row. He wrote about how much he would miss me, how he knew we could make it but also how he was still petrified of going four years without me. It’s funny that in my letter back to him, I was the one to calm him down. It’s hard to believe now. Now I’m the one in need of reassurance all the time. On the second envelope was a drawing of a woman standing in a field with a horse in the background. The wind was blowing her skirt, but she didn’t have a face. He replaced it with a heart. In his letter he told me a story about how when driving to work in the early morning, he passed a ranch each day. A couple days before he wrote the letter, he passed the ranch again in the morning only to see a woman standing in the field away from the barn. She looked upset, and she wore a long brown skirt, like the one I had worn on our third date. He said she looked like me, and the skirt reminded him of me. He almost crashed his car when he saw her. He never saw her again after that. On the third envelope, the last letter I received from him, he wrote the alphabet in cursive, with a heart attached at the end. In the letter, he explained that he saw a diner called “The Alphacrest Diner” and the neon title was in cursive. On the same road, he spotted a motel called “Bobby’s Motel”, with the lettering also in cursive. Every place on that road had their signs written in cursive. When he got to the end of the road, he saw the sign for the street read “Script st.” He chuckled at it, and then remembered when I wrote him love letters before we moved in together. You have the most beautiful cursive handwriting. I remember thinking about it every time I read your letters. It makes me wonder what you think of when you read mine, he wrote. In every drawing was a heart. The heart represented him or myself.

I felt the urge to go through that drawer and read his letters again, at 2:00 in the afternoon. I gave myself a rule only a couple weeks after Austin left; that I wouldn’t torture myself. While I mostly break that rule practically every day, I decided that reading his letters more than once a day would be torturing myself a little too much. So I only read them at night. Now that I think about it, that’s probably why my pillow is always wet in the morning.

I decided to emerge from my bedroom in an effort to dissipate my urges to read those letters. I slipped on a pair of bootcut jeans and a loose t-shirt over my head. I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. I keep myself hopeful most of the day until around 5:00pm, when the mail comes. I always curse the system for making it come so late, mostly because my risen hopes have a hard downfall in the evening. The fact was that right now, I had to do something that would take up three hours but also have enough productivity to keep my mind off of Austin’s letters for a while. It would be great if I didn’t think of Austin at all for those three hours, but I knew that was wishful thinking.

I started dialing numbers on my house phone. I was calling my best friend, Jenny, who I’ve barely spoken to all week. Like I said before, it’s hard for me to do anything without Austin, so I haven’t hung out with her in a while. She sounded excited when I got her on the other line. I explained to her that I needed something to do for a couple hours and that I was driving myself insane. She knew what I was talking about. She suggested she come over and we could bake something together. I agreed. I haven’t baked anything since Austin was home.

She showed up at my door about twenty minutes later with a recipe in hand. She wore her brightest smile, which matched her cute red dress. Jenny liked to dress up for any occasion possible. We spent most of the day in the kitchen mixing and measuring, and at one point exploding confectioner’s sugar all over my counter. We laughed a lot too. The hangout did the job I wanted it to do; I barely thought about Austin’s letters. I still thought about Austin, though. I wished he was there. There was a sweet aroma of mint escaping from the oven after we placed the pans inside, and Austin had a real sweet tooth for mint. While waiting for the muffins to be done, we cleaned up our mess. We were silent until Jenny popped a question on me.

“So, how have you been?” She asked.

“Fine.” I said without looking at her. I focused on scrubbing some chocolate out of one of the cracks in my counter…our counter.

“Lucy…” She said. I started scrubbing harder, determined to get every piece of chocolate out of that awful tiny crack. I began scrubbing so hard I felt my knuckles getting white. Jenny put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me. I hadn’t realized I was crying, and I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands.

“I know you’re still having a hard time without him, but we miss you. All of the girls miss hanging out with you.” She said to me. I just looked down and started scrubbing again.

“I’m doing fine. Only five months left.” I replied. Jenny didn’t ask me much after that. Our mint chocolate chip muffins were ready about ten minutes later anyway, right when Jenny had to leave to go to work. I gave her a few to take with her and gave her a friendly hug goodbye. I went back in the kitchen to put the muffins away in the fridge and finish cleaning the counter, but I couldn’t bear it. I kept feeling the warmness of my tears floating down my cheeks, and constantly wiping them away wasn’t doing any good. I tossed the washcloth into the corner of the counter, carelessly placed the muffins on the table, and swiftly made my way to the front of the house, where I forcefully opened the screen door and collapsed onto the stoop, burying my face in my knees. I cried for a long time. A small dark stain formed on the knees of my jeans eventually. The inside of my hands froze from being wet in the cold. I lifted my face out of its safe nest, and watched the horizon. The sun was setting behind a long string of trees, creating an orange and pink glow above them, a sight I would normally categorize as beautiful. But I barely noticed. It was getting cold. I realized I forgot my jacket, and I could see my breath. I slowly got to my feet and brushed off the rocks from my pants. As I turned to go back inside, I heard something from a short distance away.

“Lucy! Wait!” It was a man’s voice. I sighed and turned around.

“What is it, Andy?” Andy was our mailman. We had always been somewhat of friends, and he was very sympathetic toward me when he found out that Austin’s job had moved him far away from me, for such a long time. He always offered a helping hand, and shared my excitement when he handed me one of Austin’s letters.

“You might not want to go inside yet.” He said, smiling. I lost my breath when he handed me a bright envelope with just a simple drawing of two hearts attached to each other on the back. I smiled the widest smile I could manage. This letter was five months early. I could barely contain myself. Andy smiled at me before returning to his truck, and I tore open the seal with shaking hands. I clumsily opened the folded paper, and felt my smile slowly die. My heart fell to my feet, as I read those words over and over in my head.

It’s over.

It’s over. I dropped the letter, the envelope, and tears started stumbling out of my eyes like waterfalls. Right when I was about to collapse onto the ground in horror, I felt a hand on my shoulder and another on my waist to support me from falling.

“Thank you, Andy.” I muttered through my sorrows. I turned my shuddering legs to face him, but I was caught by surprise when I was met with a pair of bright green eyes, trimmed black hair, and a smile wider than the Earth.

“It’s over, Lucy. I quit the job.” I heard his smooth voice whisper the words.

“Austin…” I mouthed. My voice wouldn’t work, and it didn’t need to. He encased my body with his arms and pulled me in for a kiss I’ve been waiting for since the day he left. I didn’t want to stop, not ever. But I did anyway, because I needed to know…

“Austin, why?” I stared into his eyes. They looked truly amazing against the beautiful sunset landscape, standing on our stoop.

“I was hoping you’d ask that.” His smile grew wider. “I figured this was more important.” He said, kneeling before me with a bright ring in between his fingers.

It seemed like only a few seconds ago, I was repeating the exact actions I was doing in this moment. I pressed my palm over my mouth as my tears flowed over the hills of my fingers. My knees grew weak. He spoke to me in the softest of tones the sweetest words my ears have ever had the pleasure of listening to, but I didn’t hear them then. I only knew what they were because he later repeated them to me. In that moment, I heard nothing but the breathtaking sound of the wind blowing, the happiness of leaves rustling on tree branches. Everything that was so pale and dull to me in my numbness was bright and beautiful in this moment. I could barely say the word.

“Yes.” The moment ended with tight squeezing, fumbling lips, traveling hands, and gasping breaths that choked out words of reassurance. It’s over, it’s over, I can’t believe it’s finally over.

Through my short-lived teenage romances or my years of waiting for my unknown future husband, I would have never guessed the words it’s over would mean a beginning, and not an end.

-xLLSx-

You inspire me <3

Mon, 26 Sep 2011 17:00:25 -0400

That really makes me so happy to hear. Thank you!