Archive for the ‘writing’ Category

I spent the next hour waiting for Gray with anticipation, pacing back and forth wondering what she would think of this. How would she feel about me and what I planned to do? I worried about my silk robe, would she like it, would she care? Why did I care? I had spent hours deciding where to place everything. I built a candle lit walkway to the bed which was surrounded in more candles. I opened the curtains letting the moonlight fill the room. The flames flickered left and right as air moved throughout the room creating shadows in the night.

I heard the familiar screech of the metal door along the brick and jumped at the sound, she was here. My heart began to beat against my chest, I placed my hand over it to try to slow the thumps. It didn’t work.

The door was open now, there stood the silhouette of Gray,  I could barely make out the expression on her face but it looked to be worry.

“Hayleigh?” she whispered.

I walked over to her and as my figure became visible in the candle light she smiled with relief.

“You scared me, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight. What is all this? What are you wearing? What’s–”

I stepped closer to her and reached out for the purse she had slung over her shoulder. I lifted it up over her and dropped it to the floor. Grabbing her hand I led her through the walkway to the bed.

“Hayles, I don’t know what you have planned here but I told you I don’t need this. I can live without this, don’t do this for me.”

I kept silent. Slowly I took off her jacket, revealing the white tank top she had underneath, her porcelain skin became covered with goose bumps.

“ Stop,” she insisted but she never attempted to push me away. She wanted this, but she did not want this for me.

I pulled down her jeans, so skinny she was that they fell over her hips with little struggle. As I reached for the bottom of her tank top she grabbed both my hands. Staring at me directly, she was pleading with her eyes for me not to continue. I couldn’t stop now I had to do this. This night was not for her it was for us, to connect us in a way that I had spent so many years avoiding. I wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned into her lips, they were as soft as rose petals. Slowly I melted my lips to hers, she let out a gentle sigh. I lifted the bottom of her shirt up, up, up separating our lips only to remove the garment from her body. She shivered in the cold of the night yet her skin was warming with every moment we touched. I slipped my hands under her panties, over her hips, down her thighs they fell to the floor.

The first step was done, now it was my turn. I pulled my lips away from her and took a step back. Her beauty was heightened in the moonlight, she still held the look of nervousness which was an odd showing for her. I knew she was not anxious for herself but rather for me. Gray knew me, she knew this was difficult for only me, and she hated for me to be uncomfortable. But what I hated more than this vulnerability was seeing worry in her eyes, a rarity I wish I never had to see.

I wanted to ease her mind, so I began to untie the belt on my silk robe. I felt the air hit my navel, my breasts, suddenly I too was covered in goose bumps. In all my preparation for tonight I forgot to turn up the heat.

Gray’s face was lit with a sudden smile, but she was not looking at my body, only my face. I let the robe slip over my shoulders and fall to the floor. Their we stood, bare, staring at only each others eyes. I too began to smile, this woman was everything to me and I only wanted to be everything to her, and tonight I hoped I would be.

I took a step toward her and laced my fingers into hers and sat onto the bed. Still staring at her I guided her body down. I kissed her lips gently, pulling away for only a moment and placing my hand over her eyes, making them close.

I began to kiss down her jaw line, down her neck, across her collarbone. Over her shoulder down her left arm, taking my time as I came to the bend in her elbow, she let out a soft giggle. I took my time with each of her lengthy fingers. Fingers that had been stained by the colors of the rainbow. Fingers that had created such art that made me ache inside. Her palm was smooth and smelled the familiar smell of paint, the smell I always associated with her. I placed her hand at her side and continued on over her hip, down the inside of her thigh. Gray sighed and placed her hand on mine, I continued going down her leg, around her knee. When I reached her foot, I kissed each toe, her sole was dry and calloused from years of wearing bare feet. Her toes curl under as I kissed the middle of her foot. I looked up at Gray and a saw a smile set upon her face.

I moved over to her right leg, kissing along the inside of her knee, up to the slant between her thigh and pelvis. She shuttered in anticipation, but I couldn’t do it, this night was not about sex. I kissed her belly button, blowing gently against it, she laughed and ran her fingers through my hair. I Kissed up her torso until I reached her breasts, they were supple and felt of velvet. I kissed each one, careful not to leave an area untouched by my lips.

Gray took in a deep slow breath and released a quiet whisper “ You forgot this one,” she said as she raised her right arm and wiggled her fingers. She smiled, I laughed.

“Of course, how could I forget, that’s my favourite one.”

I straddled her hips and pulled her arm to my mouth covering it completely, taking extra care with each finger.

Last was her face, her beautiful, glorious face. The face that had woke me from the nightmare of a life I was living before I met her.

“Open your eyes,” I said. There she lay with those grey storm clouds in her eyes, she did not look through me but rather into me, into the depths of my being that I desperately tried to keep hidden but were not safe from her stark gaze.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, along her cheek bones. Then down the bridge of her nose, across her chin, finally reaching the holy grail of her face, her mouth,  which was slightly parted waiting, longing for my lips to press against them. I let my lips hover above hers for a moment, barely grazing them. I could feel her hot breath escape her lips and wisp softly over mine.

Looking straight into the grey abyss of her eyes I spoke softly, “I love you Gray,” and then I let my lips fall against hers. Our bodies were moulded against each other, I could feel our hearts beating together. I don’t know how long we laid there melting into each other, but I could have stayed there forever. Eventually I rolled off of her onto my side, our hands were still intertwined. Gray laid there with her eyes closed, smiling, I lay there staring at her, wishing we could stay like this forever, immersed in our love.

I had a dream two nights ago about floating on and iceberg with a polar bear. It was very “Life of Pi” and in my dream I wrote this poem. It’s very random and I don’t even know if it really makes sense but I haven’t posted in awhile (sry about that :/) so I thought I would share it with you, here goes:

Floating on an iceberg
The polar bear and me
Both of us left pondering
What it is to be

Every inch the ice smaller
The polar bear and me
Making the decision
On when it’s best to flee

Gazing into the water
The polar bear and me
Only he can swim
In the black as night sea

Sinking ever so slowly
The polar bear and me
Soon it will be the end
Then I will be free

Floating on an iceberg
The polar bear and me
Both of us left wondering
How this came to be

“I’m not a perfect square, I’m more of an obtuse triangle .”

-

“Flattery will get you nowhere, honesty, however will get you everywhere.”

-

“Open this box and outside you will see, Peace, Love, Bliss, outside it is free.”

I’ve been in denial. As many of you may know I have been writing what I’ve been calling a “story” that I thought may develop into a short story or a novella. I have realized recently that I have been lying to myself about what this story is meant to be. The truth is I have been scared to call it a novel because I didn’t believe I had the right to say I was writing a novel. I have no education in the area of writing besides a University 100 level English so how could I be writing novel?

Today that changed, I had an epiphany, being an artist of any kind does not mean you have to be educated in the area, you have to live it, breath it, believe it. I thought about it and I do live it, I do breath it and thanks to the response I have been getting on the internet and from people closest to me I now believe it! I received some advice from a person on twitter recently, she suggested I start promoting my book now even though it isn’t finished, and my blog is the perfect place to do that, so here goes:

Hi my name is Lindsay, I’m a writer who is writing a novel, it’s called Gray Hayles and it’s an unclassical story of life, love and loss. I’m looking into self publishing and hoping to have it out within the next two years. I won’t rush it though because I know you can’t rush art! If you’re interested, I have 4 excerpts posted under Gray Hayles.

Ahhhh I feel much better now that it’s out in the open. ;)

Peace and Love and Writing

Lindsay :)

A little something I have been working on. I seem to just get these flashes of moments in the story and all I can do is let the words flow and see what happens (its a little like being possessed, in a good creative way!). This excerpt is one of those flashes, I have no idea where this story is coming from but when I’m writing it I get extremely emotional. It feels so personal so it has been hard for me to share but I feel like I need to share it :) Hope you enjoy!

I reached her door, panting, drained, I rested my forehead on the cold metal. I took a deep breath in, trying to compose myself, sucking in the tears that were trying to escape, stinging my eyes in the process. I couldn’t walk in there a complete mess, I had done that to her one too many times. I couldn’t expect her to keep picking me up and putting me back together. It wasn’t worth it for her to fix me if all I did was break again and again. How did I get this fragile? A few months ago I was able to shove all these feelings inside, burying them deep down, stacking other emotions on top of them, compacting them into my dark place. Recently the bad feelings had become stronger seeping out at the most unexpected moments, collapsing me to the ground. I took another breath and held it in, I put what little energy I had left into opening the door.

There she sat in front of her easel. One paint brush in her hand another behind her ear, music played as she gently swayed her body to the rhythm. She had on a white tank top that was tied in a knot at the center of her back and the jean shorts she wore the first time we met. Her hand twirled gracefully across the canvas, watching her paint was like watching someone dance, so smooth and rhythmic. Beautiful. I lifted my camera to my eyes partially to hide the water filling in them and partly because images like this were impossible not to make permanent. She didn’t hear me come in but she heard the click of my camera. She turned her head toward me and smiled.

“Hey Beautiful, How was your day?” Click, I snapped again.

“Tiring,” I said as I turned and walked away from her, toward the bed, I spread myself out on the mattress. It felt good to lay down but I could no longer hold in the tears, gravity did its job and pulled gentle streams from my eyes. I wiped them away and stretched my arms above my head, rubbing my moist fingers into the blankets. Breathing slowly I tried to push the feelings away. It didn’t work, it was like I had a blanket of sadness suffocating me. I closed my eyes wanting nothing but to drift off to sleep.

I heard Gray put down her brush, she lowered the music and began to walk over to me. I didn’t want to look at her, I couldn’t look at her, not if I wanted to keep myself together. For some reason whenever I looked into her stark eyes I wanted to pour my heart out; Tell her everything that was on my mind, but I knew that would be too much for her. It wasn’t right for me to put my burdens on her, you don’t do that to the ones you love.

Gray sat on the bed, I felt her legs touch my arms. She was so warm, I could instantly feel her transferring heat to my cold skin. I kept my eyes closed as tears fell down my temples. I could feel her lean forward placing her hands on my stomach, slowly she dragged her fingertips across my torso, over my breasts, a shiver shot up my spine, I shifted my weight to let the tingling pass through. I opened my eyes, only to gaze into the most stunning grey marbles above me.

“Hey,” she whispered.

I smiled as tears continued to fall, she leaned forward and kissed the trail of salt water down the side of my face. She sat up again a moved her fingers over my chest and down my arms leaving trails of goosebumps. She stopped when her hands reached mine, she began to stroke patterns into my palm, after a few minutes I gasped her fingers. She squeezed mine back, in an attempt I’m sure to release some of my tension. I didn’t want her to take my burden and that’s all she wanted me to give her. Gray released my hands and I immediately missed them. I felt her hair fall on my fingers as my palms gained the weight of her head. Her hot breath flowed over my wrist, as she gave me a gentle kiss, burning my skin with heat.

We laid there in silence for a long time, she must have known I didn’t want to talk. Sometimes I felt like Gray knew me better than I knew myself, she had the ability to bring me up even when I felt I could go no where but further down. Eventually our breathing became heavier and just before we drifted off together I spoke softly, “Will you come with me to see my Dad?”  I felt her take a breath in a release a soft moan that I knew was meant as a yes, then we were both lost in sleep.

When I awoke I was wrapped in Gray, we had fallen asleep barely touching but now our bodies were intertwined. Her legs crossed mine, our are arms rested on top of each other, our hands were laced tightly. The moonlight glared through the window lighting our bodies in the darkness. My head was tucked under her chin, I could her the slow beat of her heart, she was calm. My eyes no longer cried, the blanket of sadness had been washed away and Gray was preventing another one from forming.  She was my armor protecting me from hurt and I wished so desperately that I could be the same for her.

I like to think of myself as a good friend. I am fiercely loyal and extremely protective of the ones closest to me. Friends (for me) are just as important as family, in fact they are my family. However, I am not the person who has millions of friends, I am a firm believer that it is not the amount of friends you have but the quality of friends you have. I haven’t always felt this way though. There was a time when I was younger (much younger) when I was “friends” with many people and not people that seemed to be overly caring towards me. This all changed when my best friend at the time told me she could no longer be friends with me if I was going to hang out with people that treated me poorly. This changed my whole perspective, she was right, what was the point in being around ten people who made me feel inferior when I could spend time with one person who I could really be myself with and not feel like I had to live up to any expectations. I will forever be grateful to her for opening my eyes to this concept. I am glad to say she is still one of me best friends to this day and even though we don’t see each other as often as I would like, when we do get together its just like it was when we were twelve. This for me, is the true test of friendship, when you can go months without seeing each other but when you do get together its like you have seen each other everyday.

I am lucky to have to two other girls in my life who I gladly bestow the Best friend title on, my sister being one of them. I know some people say your family can’t be your friends but I don’t believe this. The definition of friend for me is someone who is honest with you, trustworthy and supportive of you and always has your best interest at heart, and my sister fits all of this criteria. I have to admit we haven’t always been close considering the five year age difference (I was the annoyingly mean little sister) but as I’ve grown up I have matured and I look up to her in so many ways. She can tell it to me straight and doesn’t hold back when I’m being difficult (one of the few people who can do this). Recently she gave birth to twins and I was worried about her changing and being different now that she has two people to worry and think about all the time. The truth is she has changed she went from being a normal person to being a super hero. That’s right people I’m friends (and related to) with  a super hero. I am so lucky to have her in my life! Love ya!

Last and certainly not least is my Bestie! I met her many years ago (our moms worked together) but we didn’t become friends until we moved in together when we were taking our first year of University. She is probably the most important person I have met since I moved out and became a grown up :). It’s a great thing when you can have someone with you when your transitioning from adolescence to adulthood especially when they are going through the same transition. We have spent so many nights and days talking about anything and everything. She is another one of those people who can call me out when I’m acting a fool (and she does lol). She is honest and trustworthy and loyal and strong, all the things a friend should be. I haven’t had many hard times but when I have she has always been there, supporting me through. We finish each others sentences, we can communicate just by a look and can laugh at each other (and do all the time!). I feel so blessed to have a friend like her especially when I know of many people who have no one they can talk to and be open with. I wish that everyone could have a friend like her, but I’m not willing to share lol ;)

If you are reading this blog entry because you have friends or because you don’t just know that you need to have people around you that care about you as much as you care about them. Don’t ever feel like you have to change who you are or what you think to keep or gain friends. Those people are not friends, true friends don’t care about that kind of stuff they care about you :) In the words of Kelly Clarkson I’ve picked all my weeds but kept the flowers”  and I have the best flowers!

On a side note I apologize for the lack of blogs :/ I’ve really been slagging on my writing but I’m back in action now and will make up for it in the coming days :)

Peace and Love and Flowers

Lindsay

I Don’t Know Where This Came From but I Like it!.

It’s a weird thing growing up. I’m on the verge of my 24th year and I never thought I would get this old. As a child part of me believed I would never grow up even though I desperately wanted to. Now I find myself wanting to be young again, free of responsibility and certain wisdom I have gained that comes with getting older.

It’s strange when you’re a teenager you think that what you know, the ideas, the opinions you have will always be that way. You think that you are who you are going to be, that you couldn’t be more you than you are at sixteen. How naive, at that age I think you are the farthest from who you truly are. Hormones and influences contribute too much to your being when you’re that age. I remember thinking I knew everything when I was a teen, and I remember my mom constantly arguing with me that I didn’t, but I would not step down. I was always irritated by people hating on teens, saying they were ignorant and reckless. I still believe people can be too hard on teens but it is not a lie that many are very ignorant and reckless, but in their defense they don’t know any better. I think the problems between most adults and teenagers is that adults forget what is was like being that age and teens have no concept of what it’s like to be an adult. In all honesty they are on complete opposites of the spectrum, resulting in many heads being butted.

About six years ago I remember a friend of mine getting upset at me for dabbling in some things she did not agree with. I had been out of high school for a year and had been thrust into this world of being able to make my own decisions without having the guilt of my parents looming over me head, which was freeing for me. I experimented while she was still in high school, still living under rule and she was not happy with my decisions. I recall her saying to me “You’ve changed,” I was so angry at her in that moment. I hadn’t changed, how dare she say that to me, I was still the same person. Needless to say our friendship went into hibernation and a year and a half later I got a message from her apologizing for overreacting saying that she too was now making some similar decisions and had a new perspective. I never really gave up on our friendship during that time, I knew she was younger and hadn’t yet the ability to understand. I knew she would come around and she did, I’m happy to report our friendship has been going strong for the last 5 years now.

Recently the topic of changing has come up again in my life and now I am not so negative about it. I have changed and I’m proud of it. I’m glad I am not like my 16yo self(aren’t we all?), we are not meant to be our teenaged selves. I don’t believe in the things I used to, I don’t have the opinions I used too. As I’ve gotten older I have become more open with my ideas, less judgmental of others and more accepting. However, even though many things have changed about me I still am fundamentally who I was as a 5 year old. I don’t like to let things define me but I have always been these three things:

Loud, I was born with a high decibel voice, I am destine for a life of my dad constantly telling me to lower my voice (which is not possible unless I whisper lol so get used to it dad!)

Talkative, Since I said my first word at 9months and haven’t stopped. I could talk about anything and everything all day long. Nothing makes me more happy than a good conversation (it’s they way to my heart).

Honest, My mom always says “Come on Lindsay, tell us how you really feel,” I have never been shy about what I am thinking, sometimes it gets me in trouble but I truly believe it’s the best policy.

I guess I’m supposed to call myself and adult now but I still have so much kid left in me (considering I work with 5yos all day). I feel like I am on the border of childhood and adulthood. I am gaining knowledge everyday but still trying to find the novelty in things. I hope to keep this quality as long as I can. Being an adult is no fun without a little novelty and childhood is enriched with a little knowledge. Cheers to growing up and growing young simultaneously.

Peace and Love

Lindsay the Rambler of Things

do you ever wish your heart would stop beating

stop running your life

stop you from breathing

stop taking flight

stop people from leaving

 

because right now I do

 

 

(This is my anxiety acting up again, heart attempting to beat out of my chest :( but with anxiety comes words and with words comes hopefully, peace) :)

It’s okay for me to think what I think

It’s okay for me to feel what I feel

It’s okay for me to write what I write

It’s okay for me to see what I see

It’s okay for me to be what I be

I find myself repeating this mantra over and over these days.

When people try to stuff me in a box,

When people try to tell me how I feel,

When people try to force ideas on me.

I will not let other people decide who I am.