Starring Role of a Small Life

What explanation is there except that she felt obligated to hide behind the plastic smile and not mess up the Sandra Dee costume she so proudly wore.  In doing so, all of her failures were kept secret.

It wasn't anyone's business anyway.

Eventually those secrets and compromises became so comfortable to be around, she wore them like her favorite pair of blue jeans. If she drank too much, flirted or messed around, she was discreet and no one was the wiser.

She ignored the voice that constantly nudged her to stop. She wrestled with it a bit, and perhaps a bit too aggressively. She was enslaved to the thrill.  However, the countdown to confession was just beginning. The hushed lifestyle was starting to get too heavy, too messy, and far too big to hide.  She tried to push it back, but the deceit just bulged through somewhere else. It was only a matter of time before the swell would break.

Then the inevitable happened. The bubble burst and the sins, the scandal, the comfortable compromises that were protected and held onto so tightly for so long finally spilled out.  All those secrets that were stashed away in the darkest corners of her deepest closets were suddenly laid bare, item by item, on the largest billboards of the busiest highways for the entire world to see.

What could she say?  Everyone saw her plainly. Everyone could see she wasn't who they thought she was. Her family, her friends...

...her husband.

She wasn't who she had claimed to be.

. . .

Once upon a time there was a girl who was graceful and charming, playful and unique.  She was someone everyone wanted to be or wanted to be with.  Her reputation flourished and her pride grew with it, where sex and alcohol and glory were much more alluring, where she was convinced she was something she wasn't, where in her heart she felt empty and alone.

Yes, she was a star. Except, she played the leading role of an incredibly, insignificant and small life.

...written for this week's writing prompt : Swell and Unique at studio 30+

Kudos …to me!

So I received news that I am featured as the 'Member of the Week' over at Studio30+ and I'm pumped!

I mean, I could be all bashful and say, aw you shouldn't have.  But honestly, I'm so thrilled! Thank you! It's nice to receive encouragement, and I'll take it in whatever form it comes.

Especially when it is from a community of writers that I truly admire.

I appreciate creativity - in all its forms - and I find writing to be just one of many artistic avenues to participate in. I don't always do it perfectly and it isn't always the best stuff out there on the entire world wide web, but I enjoy it and am glad to share it with whoever is inspired to read. There is so much beauty to be found in the creating process - in the here and now - not just in the masterpiece itself.

I just read another blogger encouraging us to celebrate in times like these {emphasis mine} :

"... you can celebrate what you’ve had the courage to put out there. And the point is not to get it picked up. The point is to put it out there in the most honest, true-to-you way possible, and it will connect. So if you haven’t put it out there, please, put it out there. Don’t be afraid. Don’t wait until it’s perfect.

The trolls will always be trolls, but there are so many more beautiful and generous people who will receive what you give, whose heart will break because of the beauty of who you are and what you’re willing to pour out."

So true. 

…and thanks =)

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I am featured on Studio30+ !

I mentioned before that I just joined a community of writers over 30 online at Studio30+ and this morning my post was featured!  Check it out when you get a chance and let me know what you think.

Click on the studio30+ banner to read!

{ If you enjoy writing and would like to meet other talented writers and read a variety of writing styles and pieces, consider joining too! }

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forgotten puddles

I've joined an online community of writers over at Studio 30 Plus {a social media site for writers over 30} and I am really enjoying it over there. It has been challenging for me to read and write and venture out with a little more courage. I like that. This week's prompt was 'if i were to do it all over again…'

she hesitates. not knowing what to expect, she reaches out her hand. it lingers. alone. he walks out the door.

the bitter rejection feels cold. a sharp pain shoots to her heart and it aches.  she retrieves her hand, slowly, deliberately, as if any sudden movement will startle and cause her to run away. 

she sits quiet. staring at the black nothingness. she feels the weight press against her as the verses, the lyrics, the words pour out from her mind and piece together a melody as melancholy and despondent as the damp scene outside her window.  the angry rain pings persistently as they slide down the glass. slowly. miserably. they are rejected. 

the same way as she. 

she adores the rain. she wants the days to stay as beautifully dreary as she. she understands its pain.  unwanted. cold. damp. gloomy.  dreary skies with gray backdrops, bored trees and quiet neighborhoods. the occasional passing car sloshing through forgotten puddles. 

her heart aches for him. for the pain that she herself inflicted.  she is torn. torn because there is no avenue for her to take with him. she can't step in and console him or run to his aid; embrace him or even erase the hurt because it was her….her very breath, her own actions, her very existence that became the weapon to pierce him over and over and over again…

'if i were to do it all over again…' she thinks. the lonely life she is all too familiar with, the destructive path she has left behind, would it really have been different?  perhaps. 

or maybe not.

...written for this week's writing prompt at studio 30 plus