Tag Archives: love

I miss them

I miss my characters. I finished a story for the Goodreads MM Romance group Love’s Landscape a week ago. I’m waiting to hear from an editor who’ll have the brilliant job of reading my crap. Poor, poor volunteer editor.

That said, I miss the characters. I think about them when I’m driving, when I’m reading, in my shower, or now, in front of my computer.

I want to write more about them. Ideas keep popping up in my mind. They have more to say, more to experience, more to share.

I think I’ll continue it, just for fun.

Tom, Dylan, I’m coming! Hold on!

Borderlines have more fun

A borderline personality disorder may be the best personality disorder to have.

I’m not kidding.

When you’re borderline, your emotions go from zero to sixty in a second. You feel everything more. Pain, suffering, sadness, angst, but also happiness, giddiness, surprise, love.

And you laugh louder and longer than anyone.

Plus you’re a cheap date when it comes to feeling the effects of drugs and alcohol.

It’s not great when side effects from meds make you want to jump in front of a train but on the plus side, you need small dosages of mental health meds to get a good reaction too when they work in your favour.

There’s always a plus side to everything, right? Even mental disorders. 🙂

Okay, what now?

The verdict is out, the diagnosis is certain, the sentence is given. Six to twelve months, no parole.

What do you now?

You wait. You wait for the signs that it’s growing; for the pain to increase; for the hints that it’s gotten worse. 

You grasp life with both hands, hold on as hard as you can. Every night when you go to bed, you pray the next day will be as good as the one that’s just over; that it won’t take a turn for the worse.

You make plans for the next few days, hoping all goes well. Take advantage of each minute, each hour, each day everything’s still okay, manageable, acceptable.

You live with the constant fear for what tomorrow may bring. What if time’s cut short? What if you don’t get to do that one last thing you craved so much?

The unfairness of it all eats at you but you don’t let it win. You fight it and think of good things; of all that’s left, of all you still need to say. You write it down in case you forget, so they’ll find it after you’re gone.

And everyone around you waits with you. Worries about you but won’t let you see, just in case it drags you down. Everyone’s pasting smiles on their faces, puts cheer in their voices to keep you from sensing their anguish. No one talks about death. No one talks about the end. 

Your children are stuck waiting, anticipating, expecting the hurt to be dragged on through the months of doing everything one last time, knowing it, and holding off on expressing the pain.

Because once you’re gone, they’ll only have pain left: hope will  leave with you. Then they can mourn and let loose and grieve. You won’t be there to see it and that’s okay. You know it’s coming anyway.

Cancer’s a motherfucker.

3 months to live

What would you do with 3 months to live? If you only had three months left of your time on this earth, what would be essential for you to accomplish in such a short time?

Would you travel? Finish that book you started (the one you’re writing, not reading)? Would you sell all your stuff and move to Florida? Would you write letters to all your loved ones? Would you run naked in the street just because no one would press charges against the lady with the deadly cancer? Would you rob a bank ’cause you wouldn’t be around for sentencing? Would you buy an expensive car with your life savings ’cause your kids will be able to sell it after you die anyways? 

Would you think of all the things you’ll miss? Like your grandchildren’s proms, and weddings? That movie you wanted to see that will only come out next year, after you’re gone? The ending to the Vampire Diaries? The next book of your favourite series? Knowing what your grandkids want to do when they grow up? Organise a last Christmas celebration, fuck whatever date it is?

Would you cry and rage and curse fate for throwing such a fucking wrench in your gear? Would you rant and cry about the injustice of it all? Would you wonder ‘why me’? Would you think back on your life to see what you did to deserve this?

Would you tell your children you love them everyday until you can’t anymore? Would you touch your spouse every chance you get? Would you make love more? Would you stay in bed and make cookie crumbs? Would you have a fling? Would you have a threesome? Would you finally tell that person (you know who) what you really thought of them? Would you write to your old boss to give him shit? Would you contact ‘the one that got away’? 

Would you make your funeral arrangements? Would you put all your affairs in order? Would you make a will? Would you start giving away your stuff to make sure it goes to whomever you want it to go to? 

Would you make a list of things that you never got a chance to do and burn it? Would you make peace with yourself? With others? Would you ask for forgiveness while you still have the chance? Would you make a list of regrets and burn that too? 

Would you be grateful to live up to four months? If so, would you regret cashing in your RRSP’s and buying that stupid car? 

I hope my mom gets to do everything she wants to do with the months left in her life,whether it’s 3, 6, 9 or 12. And I hope she dies of a quick and painless heart attack, right before the cancer wins.

‘Slay me’, said the dragon by Stephen Del Mar

ImageI can’t believe I didn’t write a review for this one yet! It’s the sweetest, most captivating short fantasy story I read in a long time.

It’s sweet, a bit scary, and oh so beautiful in the end. 

There’s dragons who can appear in human form, and a dragon slayer. Bad dragons and good dragons. And love.

It starts a bit scary and you don’t know where it’s going until you reach the end to realize it’s one of the most beautiful love stories ever written. And I read a lot. It’s really touching.

Yup, kiddies, another one not for you. Sorry. Sex. (I’ll try to read pg-13 stuff just for you, but can’t promise anything… because you don’t really exist!!!)