I think we all owe a debt of gratitude to Beyonce and Jay-Z for opening up their personal marital struggles to the world. So often we look at celebrities and we only see the money and the beauty without the struggles the rest of us seem to face. They are breaking down those barriers by talking about stuff that is, well frankly, freaking embarrassing as hell. Being cheated on. Breaking vows. Giving in to baser desires and hurting your loved ones. This is deep stuff we are all looking at here with the release of Jay-Z’s 4:44. Continue reading
A reading and discussion with authors Dea Schofield and H.L. Brooks.
At Scarborough Fair Bed and Breakfast in Baltimore!
Saturday, July 22nd
Please come by and pick up a copy of our new books. Or just listen to us and ask questions. Though buying our books means we can keep writing more!
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I will hold you, quietly. I can be still long enough to listen to your pain. I’m not good at being still. You know this. You know. I think that’s why my embracing still moments mean so much to you … because you know.
I had an epiphany about myself yesterday. A realization. And it was such a simple answer, I was certain I must have realized it some time in the past. I thought about the times I’d been embraced by somebody, only for them to get close long enough to see my utter humaneness, and then walk away. I thought this meant I was bad at love. Now I realize it’s more about the ideal of me not matching up with the reality of me. And you never did that to me. You always understood. It’s amazing to be truly seen that way.
The essence of it all? You understand why the things that matter to me–matter to me. You also understand that I am an embodiment of celebration. Even my quietness can be a spectacle. I think that comes off like obsession, or possessiveness, to some people. And in all truth, I was possessive in my first marriage. I was jealous in that life I once led. I was a teenager when we met. And that was a difficult twenty years. I grew in that time, particularly starting around my early thirties. I know the difference between excitement and jealousy, between celebration and possession. I know it for myself, even if others don’t. And you know, maybe that’s why I can appreciate the abundant trust I am now the recipient of, because I know how rare it is.
I’m trying to get over that fear of being misunderstood. You really help with that, did you know? Because even though I’ve read that Anaïs Nin quote a million times, it really sunk in yesterday. It isn’t that my love is wrong, it’s that my love is viewed through the filter of others. It’s about the way they experience my love that makes it work, or not work. Its about their past relationships and what they learned.
Maybe at some point I can stop writing and vlogging about being afraid to be misunderstood, and that will be the measure of when I am cured of that concern.
Finally diving in again. As mentioned in the video, I tried vlogging years ago, but it was too much of a pain. As it is, I still need to learn how to do some editing to make them a little more exciting.
This vlog is a little longish, but I think it moves along at a pretty good clip. In the future I will have topic-driven vlogs. I think I’ll also read some sexy story bits. Trying to just be more myself these days. Not so guarded. Taking a fresh direction, or at least getting back on the right path. We all need a reset sometimes. At times they come in interesting forms. Mine came in the form of some restlessness and desire that needs to be expressed. I have to forget about the politics of the world in order to be so self-indulgent as to post about being misunderstood and finding my voice, and all that. It’s so small in comparison.
You take my hand and we spin in close. Your arms around me, your breath on my neck. A few heartbeats, chests rise and fall … heat … then you spin away.
We’re waiting on the second set of proofs for the paperback, so that still is not available. The e-book, however, totally is! And it’s on Amazon right now!
“I’m a good swimmer,” he says.
He can take it. All of it. Ripples, waves, crashing, roiling.
I’m so full of words. I could write all day from the moment I wake until I pass out asleep, and it would never be enough to get it all out. Continue reading