Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts

Thursday, May 16, 2019

Kissing Frogs




I love a good story. I always have.  I especially love a tale with a happy ending.  The more magical, the more epic, and the more fantastic – the better I love them. I’m a sucker for a hero’s tale. I have many heroes, from Wesley and his “As you wish,” to a Goonie that never says, “Die!”  The Author of Life sometimes creates great tales and woeful tragedies. I’m trying to figure out which one I’m living.
My first love was Superman.  Watching that mild-mannered, kind, gentle man rip his shirt open and become this brave savior - won my heart.  Batman was the ultimate misunderstood bad boy, and Jesus walked on water and defied death.  Within my personal tragic story, my soul cried out to be saved. But no savior swooped in and saved the day. I learned to save myself.
I am a Princess, and always have been, only I haven’t always been able to see it. What’s so funny is that I used to tell my brother’s a story about having been kidnapped and that someday my real parents, a king and queen, would one day find me, rescue me from my hell, and take me home.  The royal highnesses never came for me, but I learned to rescue myself. I learned to change my stars and create the life I wanted to live.
I’ve always believed in magic, believed in faith, believed in the supernatural – though I’ve never really seen any of those things manifest in reality.  I always made wishes when I closed my eyes. I always prayed to the God of the Universe. I always felt the presence of an angel in my darkest moments. I never got my miracles or displayed the magnificent power over science and nature. I never had a wish magically come true, but I learned to make wishes and dreams come true for myself through hard work and dedication. Perhaps that was the true miracle.
The stories of love are the best ones of all. I have a lot of love in my life. I love my children and grandbaby beyond expression. I love my god. I love my family, my friends, and my pets. I love my passions. I love humanity. I love myself most of all.  But, the one thing I haven’t been able to capture is that GREAT romantic, magnificent, fairy-tale love. That’s not true.  I had it once before, very briefly, but a Somalian bullet took that dream from me. I had my Prince, but I didn’t get my happily-ever-after. I feel like Rose on that floating door – forced to let go of my greatest love and promising to never let go of the dream we dreamt together. I never did. I lived those dreams James and I made together, because also like Rose – there was a life full of adventure waiting to be lived AFTER Jack/James.
Of course, within that life I promised to live, I’ve kissed a few frogs, but they never turned into my Prince. While each relationship I’ve had was beautiful in its own way, it was ever only PART of the dream, part of the story, and it only filled part of me. I had one of the best marriages of anyone I knew, full of love and respect – but no passion. I’ve had one of the hottest love affairs so full of passion I burned inside, but I did not have the love and respect. I’ve had romances and nightmares, but no happily-ever-after. With each one, I’ve learned more and more what I want and don’t want in my Prince, what I need and don’t need in my life, and what kind of crown I want to sit upon my own head.
I don’t need a superhero to save me. I don’t need a valiant warrior to rescue me. I don’t need a Prince to make my dreams and wishes come true. I want a partner that will love me just as I am and not want to change me. I want a friend that I can share all that I am and they not feel they need to fix me. I want a lover that wants to touch me, and kiss me, and hold me, and listen to my silly stories, and encourage me when I’m down, and push me when I want to give up, and comfort me when I’m scared, protect me when I’m in danger, and be someone I can count on, trust, and not be afraid to give my whole heart.
All the fairy tales and epic fantasies tell you about the journey that leads up to kissing frogs and finding a Prince.  What about when you find one?  What happens next? I don’t know that part of the story. I’m afraid – because I want the happy-ever-after – but I’ve never seen it. Its standing right in front of me, but my hands literally shake when I dare to even think if it’s possible – for me. I think it must be a mistake. I’m never the Princess that catches the Prince and gets to keep him. I’ve always been too much or not enough. Too soft or too hard, but never just right. There’s always been big bad wolves in sheep’s clothing coming to blow down every house I try to build.  But, could the glass slipper really fit this time? Could his kiss break the curse of death from my poisoned lips?
If I’ve learned anything from all my fantasy and fairy tales, and stories of superheroes, is that my answer isn’t going to come from someone else. My happy-ever-after is something I’m going to have to choose for myself. I’m going to have to believe in it, trust in it, and grab it with all my soul and strength.  Just as I rescued myself, and saved myself, and believed in myself, and loved myself – I will have to choose this too. I’m afraid because I’ve fallen and failed so many times before and am riddled with their scars and filled with their pain when I close my eyes.
I could fail again. But, if I do – I know how to pick myself back up.  I’ve recently kissed a frog, and he’s become a Prince. I’ve been rubbing my eyes, wondering if he’s real or just an illusion. Only time will tell and only the Author knows how the whole story truly ends. This is a new chapter. I hope it’s a good one.

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

A New Day




Wants change when entering new life cycles.  Desires transform as atmospheres transits.  Needs modify with maturity.  Experience inspires the greatest renovation, for good or bad, healthy or unhealthy. Tomorrow is gone and it’s a new day.
I’m changing, it’s that simple. I’m emerging into a new creation, formed and transformed by my experiences, and I like the changes that are happening and the beauty that I am becoming.
Yes, I believe I’m beautiful.  My doubts and fears whisper to me I’m cursed, unlovable, unwanted, and not enough, but those are the lies sent to keep me bound to the earth, or drowned beneath the waters, when I was meant to soar in the heavens.  There is greatness in me and she’s been held captive for way too long. 
I don’t understand what led me to choose my captivity, but I clearly understand I was the one who clasped the shackles around my own heart, wrists and ankles. I was the one who bound myself to something detrimental and destructive to my soul, to my heart, and to my mind. And I was the one who had to break those chains and fly free.  Perhaps that was the lesson that I needed to learn, to be reminded that no one else will fight for me, no one else will love me the way I need to love myself. 
Love – what a concept that is so simple, yet so complicated. It’s bigger than I can understand, but something I desire and know I need to give AND receive. I do give love – always. To my friends, my family, and my lovers.  I always give my whole heart.  But, I now understand that receiving it is JUST AS IMPORTANT.
I will no longer accept anything but the greatest of love from anyone that wants to be a part of my life.  I am learning to let go of those who can’t or won’t love me. I am finding the strength to walk away from passive/aggressive assholes who use my love, but are incapable of returning it – because I love ME. 
I am building my tribe – a tribe of men and women who are not afraid to open their hearts and arms to me in honest friendship.  Who will not only allow me to love, inspire, encourage and support (because that’s who I am – the ultimate cheerleader) them, but who also feed my soul with love, inspiration, encouragement and support.  I have a lot to give - but what I give is love, light, sun, and life.  Vampires operate in darkness and seek the lifeblood of the lost and helpless.  I got my wooden stake firmly in my hands and I’m not afraid to use it.  I’ve been sucked dry and preyed upon for long enough, but my heart still beats. My tribe has helped me mend my wings and breathe the clean air, and bask in the sunlight. I’ve got a great beautiful golden tan that glows.
I am ready to share my heart again. I’m ready to allow life, and love, and happiness back into my universe.  I’m ready to smile, to seek adventure, to chase dreams, and to fall in love.  I want romance – great romance.  To hell with these insecure broken men who are too jaded to be romantic, daring, and willing to risk everything for love.  I need a hero, not a coward.  I don’t want someone who lies to themselves and the world about not needing love and romance – for their peace.  FUCK their peace. If James taught me anything it’s that love is worth the effort, it’s worth the risk, and it’s worth the fight.  I’ve never felt more loved in my life since him – but I’ve been feeling his presence more and more lately.  I believe his spirit has been reminding me that I am worth chasing, worth fighting for, and worth moving heaven and earth just to love me. I already know I love with my whole heart – and I give my heart and soul to the man in my life.  I will accept NOTHING less in return. I am a good woman with a great heart, and any man would be lucky and blessed to have me in their life. Only a real man will be able to handle me. Little men and broken assholes can keep walking. Leave me alone.  There are plenty of damaged broken women to prey upon, but not me, not anymore.  I’m not trying to save anyone. I can’t.  I want a man that doesn’t need to be saved; one that can fly with me, not pull me down.  
I’m flying. I’m soaring and there’s nothing that I can’t do or achieve. My only frustration is deciding which dream I want to chase first! My future is so bright.  I am rich in happiness.  I have successfully found my inner peace. I’m enjoying the wealth of good health that is lending to the fulfillment of my dreams. I’m 47 and have no addictions, no major ailments, and good heart and mind. I am a force of nature and I have been unappreciated for way too long. I’m about to remind the world just what I’m capable of achieving.
Kindness – I seek kindness most of all.  My world had been so dark and so toxic for so long – that simple kindness is a golden treasure.  My soul is thirsty for kindness, and my shield is polished, and my sword is sharpened to protect me from cruelty. Whether friend or lover, if you’re not a kind person – I’m walking away – quickly.  The sharks swim beneath the water, but I’m not in the water, I’m in the air. I’m fire. I’m a phoenix risen from the ashes. It’s a new day, watch me blaze in the light of the sun.
Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Hypnotic - Zella Day



Yep, I’ve got another one… another great song has been added to my playlist. I want to thank my very special friend who understands my passion for music, for stories, for a beat and a melody that moves my heart and touches my soul. He’s got a very special gift for knowing what I’ll respond to, and I appreciate that more than he’ll ever know.

Switching tempos… it’s time to get down to the marrow of this particular song – Hypnotic by Zella Day. I’ve been listening to it now for a couple of weeks, along with the rest of her album “Kicker”. I’m a fan – for life. I just love her style and can really feel a connection to a lot of her stuff. Her music speaks more to that sexy, sensual, sultry part of me. It’s taken me a long time to get in touch with that particular part of myself, and so I really appreciate how her music appeals and inspires me.

While this song makes me move (I mean, I literally can’t sit still, my hips automatically start swaying, my shoulders start moving, even my fingertips want to get into the dance.), it also speaks to something deeper, something bigger, something more than just the erotic sensationalism.

Have you ever met someone that by all practical common sense, you know-that you know-that you know is someone that will be difficult to mesh with because you’re so different, yet when you’re with them - NONE of that other stuff, none of those differences, none of those fears, doubts, or compromises mean anything? Hell, I can’t even think straight when I’m around him. I literally get dizzy, stumble over my words, forget all my ideas and plans, and just BE in the moment. Man… it’s terrible and great at the same time. That feeling of connection, that bigger-than-you-can-comprehend, magnetic euphoria makes everything seem so right, so perfect, so … hell, I can’t even find the word. It’s just something hypnotic.

This one feeling (it could be like a million feelings all compounded into one) has stripped away so many of my core beliefs, ideals, morals, and practical sense, and I’d do just about anything to feel it again. It pulls me out of the person I think I am, that mask I represent most of the time, and transforms me into someone else, strips me naked and bare for just a little while. Just like the song says, “I don’t want to come back down, I don’t want to touch the ground. Pacific Ocean dug so deep, hypnotic taking over me.”

Does any of that other shallow stuff really matter? Isn’t the things we find in the deepest part of us, the hidden parts, the parts so cavernous that no light can touch, and the pressure is so hard it crushes us, the parts that reveal who we really are? I’ve walked away from a lot of potential relationships for very many shallow reasons. Perhaps I’m just trying to protect myself because I’m afraid of what waits beneath the surface, in a place where my feet can’t touch the ground, where I can't see clearly, where I  find certain attributes I don’t particularly like, and I move on. Am I looking for Mr. Perfect? I know perfect doesn’t exist. Yet, I’ve experienced something with one of these opposites that I can’t shake. In the deepest part of my heart I WANT to always do what is right, what is just, what is fair, what is wise, and what is noble. I think I have one of the biggest hearts in the world. I have all these intentions. I have sacrificed so many times in my life to walk a certain path. I used to have solid, defined opinions about what I’d do, what I wouldn’t do, what I thought I needed, what I thought I didn’t need. Yet, I forget all those things… every fucking single one of them… with a single hypnotic glance. I’m entranced.

Thank you, Zella Day, for your lovely song… and thank you readers for riding this wave with me. Now, sit back (well, get ready to move) and enjoy the latest addiction to my music collection.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray


(Ahh ahh)

I wanna be on the front line
Knotted up suit ties
Talkin' like a headstrong mama
Gotta picture in your wallet
Makin' me a habit
Wearin' your vintage t-shirt
Tie ribbons on ya top hat
Tellin' me I'm all that
Just like the girls from ya home town
Sweet blooded and I'm stranded
See if I can stand it
Drinkin' in the shallow water

Magnetic everything about you
You really got me now

You do it to me so well
Hypnotic takin' over me
Make me feel like someone else
You got me talkin' in my sleep
I don't wanna come back down
I don't wanna touch the ground
Pacific ocean dug so deep
Hypnotic takin' over me

(Ahh ahh)

White threads on my laces
Stuck on the hinges
Swingin' the door to the to the back yard
Got splinters walkin' tight ropes
Spun like a bandage
Touch on the outer surface
Bright eyes of the solstice
Wherever your mind is headed for a freight train city
Locked up till your moon lit
Brushin' my hair back
Feelin' ya lips on my cold neck

Magnetic everything about you
You really got me now

You do it to me so well
Hypnotic takin' over me
Make me feel like someone else
You got me talkin' in my sleep
I don't wanna come back down
I don't wanna touch the ground
Pacific ocean dug so deep
Hypnotic takin' over me

(Ahh)

Hypnotic takin' over me

You do it to me so well
Hypnotic takin' over me
Make me feel like someone else
You got me talkin' in my sleep
I don't wanna come back down
I don't wanna touch the ground
Pacific ocean dug so deep
Hypnotic takin' over me

(Ahh)

Hypnotic takin' over me

(Ahh)

Hypnotic takin' over me

(Ahh ahh)

Thursday, April 09, 2015

Stay a Little Longer

*Flash Fiction/Short Story by T.L. Gray*

~

The second hand on the clock ticks, ticks, ticks away.

Father Time, make it stop. Keep me in this moment. Hold me in this place and time the way his arms hold me now. How long?

Sensations prickle all over as he runs his thumb lightly over my shoulders and down my back. A steady heartbeat sings to me as my head rests on his chest. He’s so swarm, so hard, so safe, so beautiful. The scent of him makes me dizzy. My whole body worships him, aches for him, even now as our legs lay tangled. How long?

I’m home in his arms. Please stop, clock. Please let me stay a little longer.

Where do I end and he begin? The most delicate flower, so intricate, so complex, doesn’t compare to his beauty. His eyes, more dazzling than the darkest rose. His scent, more intoxicating than the honeysuckle. His beautiful skin, more exotic than any lily. The power he wields over me, more potent than the poppy. How long?

I lay bare before him, more than skin, more than flesh, all of me open and exposed, every deep and secret part of me, my soul, my heart. How long?

I’m lost in his arms. Please stop, clock. Please let me stay a little longer.

When we come together we become one. We burn hot. When we turn away, magnetic polarity ensues and an invisible force comes between us, pushing us apart – life, yesterday, tomorrow. The world dims. I become numb, a pile of cold ashes. How long?

The second hand on the clock ticks, ticks, ticks away.

~


Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Thursday, March 05, 2015

One Last Night



*A Flash Fiction Piece by T.L. Gray*


Gray clouds billow above the white foamy surf as fog rolls like a trampling stampede upon the surface of the cerulean sea. The crash of waves upon the rocks reminds me of my lovers tryst; the sea spray our wild release. I stand at the widow, staring out at the cold, magical, monochromatic morning, my chest heavy with sorrow, but no regret.

The view before me blurs amid the hot, silver tears as they fill my eyes. I flush as each warm memory fills my mind’s eye. I wrap my arms tight around me and let the images take me back, take me into our one last night.

~

Dark eyes stared into my soul, undressing me, exposing the deepest part of me, stealing my breath.

Strong, gentle fingers slowly traced the side of my face, moving slowly down my neck, and onto my shoulders, shakily leaving a trail of prickling anticipation and sweet adoration.

I shivered.

He smiled.

I let go.

Two hearts beat in unison as our bodies converged into one, staring into each other’s eyes, feeling the love, forgetting the world outside. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered. Giving. Receiving. Loving. Worshipping. Sharing. No words. No promises. No lies.

My eyes grew heavy as my head rested on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, feeling the comforting warmth of his arms wrapped around me, his fingers gently caressing me. A perfect moment.

I didn’t look back as he left. I couldn’t.

~

I now stand empty, cold, and alone. I can still hear his gentle breathing and feel the lingering sting of his touch, but only as ghosts and silhouettes. I walk toward those cold, crashing waves, letting go of my will, my fight, my resolve, shedding my earthly shell and the last tendrils of my humanity. I disappear into the abyss.

Death holds his bony fingers out toward me and asks, “Was it worth it, your one last night?”

I take his hand, look up at him, and smile, “What night?”

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

I Dance, I Ditch, I Die




Feel the beat, beneath our feet as the music plays.

You take my hand, I feel the warmth of it as our fingers interlock. But I don’t see them, I’m too busy staring into your eyes, those captivating eyes. They hold me prisoner in their gaze, hypnotized by their intensity. I’m spellbound.

You lead me to the dance floor. I don’t see the other dancers, just you bathed in golden light. Everything else is in shadow. All I can see is your eyes, your smile. We weave through the dancers with agility and grace. You lead. I follow.

We stop in the middle of the dance floor. You circle me, appraising me. Though your eyes are locked on mine, I can tell they see all of me. I’m your prey. You’re the hunter. I long to be devoured.

Your strong hand brushes across the small of my back. I shiver. Your other hand grabs the one hanging by my side. Our fingers lace and you bring my hand to your beautiful lips, brushing their soft, plumpness against the back. It’s like fire licking my skin and dancing upon the hair follicles.

You pull me close and we start to sway back and forth in time to the music. You hold me so tight I can feel your heart beating in your chest. I feel so beautiful, so safe in your arms. Your aroma makes me dizzy. Your warmth makes me melt. Your intense gaze exposes my soul. Your lips snare me, induce me, seduce me.

You dance with me. It’s beautiful. I’m lost. I’m found. I’m scared. I’m safe. I’m alive. I burn. I worship you.

You kiss me, and I cease to exist. I’m yours. I’m lost in you, in your arms, in your love.

The clock strikes twelve.

I feel the façade fade. Fear consumes me. I know you could never love the simple girl inside. In fear, in doubt, and in confusion - I run.

Only in this fairy tale - you don’t run after me. I don’t lose a piece of me for you to find, because you’re not searching for me.

My heart now burns to cinder ash, and I’ve become numb. Many ask me to dance, but I feel nothing – not the music, not the fire, not the passion. The more I refuse, the more they want me, but I only want to dance with one.

Every day I am being transformed into the image of the princess I had once pretended to be – the one you wanted me to be – yet you can’t now see. You dance with the other princesses, hypnotizing them with your intense gaze, seducing them with your cunning cleverness. They don’t run.

My ashes cool and only a cold pile remains. I hate it. I smile, but I’m crying inside. I want to live, but I also want to die. I want the magic, but I have no wand. I’m shriveling to nothing and soon will be nothing but ash floating in the wind. My fairy tale has ended and my Prince is gone. I’m trying to survive. I’m trying to move on. I can’t breathe.

I hate who I’m becoming. She’s everything I despise. I’m no longer Cinderella, but a big, bad witch in disguise.

Till next time,

~Wicked Witch of the World

Friday, August 01, 2014

The New Bachelorette: Dating After 40 - Opposites Attract



Wow, this journey into twenty-first century dating over 40 is really opening my eyes to a lot of things I wish I’ve never seen, but then again, every experience enriches my life in some way, whether I like it or not.

I’m really learning a lot about myself and the things I like, want, don’t like, and definitely don’t want in my life.  Some of these things really shock me and other things I could have seen coming a mile away. So, today I hope I will have some of you shake your head, while others will have your eyeballs widen in disbelief.

Sometimes in this dating game, well almost all of the time, I’m clueless.  I know how to be married, how to be committed, how to be selfless, and how to put the needs and wants of others before me.  That’s how I’ve lived my whole life.  Being single is the total opposite of all that, so I’m often clueless, miss hints, don’t understand many of the terms used in today’s dating realm, and signals ... it’s like I’m still using smoke while the rest of the world has moved onto 1’s and 0’s.  I hope I can find a balance.

You’ve heard the old adage, ‘Opposites Attract’?  My first instinct is to say, “bullshit” but I’m finding that there are certain opposites I find attractive.  Case in point – all the guys I really want to date are guys who’ve been dating, serially, for years -  not guys who’ve been in committed relationships.  While I eventually want a commitment, I’m not in a hurry.  I’ve just come out of a huge commitment.  I’m not looking to get hitched again. I’m not looking for a husband.  I want a partner.  I want someone to go on adventures, experience life, explore the world with me… as-I’m-doing-it. I’m not looking for someone to complete me, but compliment me, and to whom I can be a compliment. I don’t want middle-class, raising a family, pursuing a demanding career kind of life.  I’ve been there, done that, and the tee-shirt is worn out.  It has fond memories, but the time has come to put it away.

I do everything bass ackwards.  When I was young, beautiful, and energetic, that was the time to explore the world and take on wild adventures.  Instead I took care of a family, and then raised one of my own, chased an education and a career, and have since walked away from it all.  Most of the guys my age are in the former state, while I’m in the latter.  In this instance, the opposite wouldn’t attract.

I think it’s quite pathetic when 50 year-old men are JUST NOW wanting to start a family so they try to find themselves a young 20 or 30-something year-old child to marry.  But what other choice do they have? 40 and 50 year-old women are past child bearing age.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to get some stiff feedback for this statement… but I think it’s ridiculous and quite unfair to the women, both the younger and older.

I can hear the older men say (because I’ve already heard them say it), “It’s fair because I can provide a luxurious lifestyle and a comfortable living for the young woman because I’m financially secure.  I can offer her experience in love-making (yeah, you pervert –it’s because you want that young, fit body instead of appreciating the beauty of an older woman’s body), life, and save her a bunch of trouble.”  Give me a f’ing break.  I’m sure there are young women, mostly damaged women with daddy issues (*raises hand in the air), who find it appealing for an older man to take care of her basic needs and be able to teach her about life because God-forbid she actually experiences and learns anything for herself (I hope you caught the sarcasm).  Isn’t the point of life to get out there and learn about it as you go? What happened to the older women who stood beside these older men as they were making their way in this world?  Most likely she gets tossed aside for the younger, child-bearing, unexperienced girl?  Fuck that.

Needless to say, those are often the first thoughts that run through my mind (I admit – I could be wrong) when I get hit on (because I look younger than my 43 years) by 50-60 year-old men when they tell me they’re looking for a wife and want to start a family.  I’m getting ready for grandchildren (kids – if you’re reading this…hopefully not for a few more years).  In these older men’s faces I can also see the future of the younger men (25-35) who also hit on me.  Those young men express how at this time they either don’t want a family, or is something they’d want to pursue at a later time  - when they get in their late 40’s or 50’s,  and are now just looking for that adventure partner – like me, that older woman they can have fun with – but don’t have to commit. While the thought of being a Cougar is quite appealing (what woman in her right mind wouldn’t fantasize about a hot, fit, sexy young man with lots and lots of stamina while she’s going through the hormonal changes of menopause and her libido is through the roof…what was I talking about, again?  Oh, yeah… partners), it’s just a heart-break waiting to happen.  When he does grow up and finally want that family, the cougar isn’t a viable option. While men can often sow their seed until the day they die, women have to compartmentalize that part of their lives because they are on a biological clock.

Just because we women in our 40’s are older, it doesn’t mean we can’t fall in love, or don’t want to fall in love, and be loved just like we did when we were 16.  I think men, both young and old,  forget that. Just because we’re more refined, smarter, experienced, know how to compose ourselves, independent, and classy, it doesn’t mean we’re not also spontaneous, crazy, wild, freaky, and still have that young romantic girl inside us.   In a way, we’re all cougars – because I’m always looking for that playful, horny, sexy, crazy young man inside every mature man I meet.

 So, do opposites attract?  Of course they do.  There’s something inside all of us that wants what’s different.  But, sometimes it’s not prudent when the opposites are just a little too far apart.  That’s why I think it’s important to know what you want, to know what works best with you, what traits about your partner will enrich your life.  Love – real love – can override any rule, even those of age, race, social status, culture, etc.  But, you should always be honest when it comes to those opposites to know which ones will work for you.

Here’s six traits and qualities about myself and what I want.  I’d want someone that could work with these particular things, because in the end – balance is the key.

· Age – 33-53 (I’m not interested in being a Sugar Mama or a Nurse Maid), but I can work within this age range.  It’s ten below and ten above, anything more is just asking for unmerited difficulty, sacrifice, and heartbreak.  Balance is key… remember?

· Race/Relations – I’m open to all races.  I find beauty in all shades.  The only color I’m concerned with is the color of the heart. I’m not a racist, but I’m extremely prejudiced.  I don’t like racists and will never be with one, I don’t care what our ancestors have done in the past – I’ve got relatives on both sides of every issue. I wasn’t there, it wasn’t me, and if everyone looked hard enough we can all find tragic and horrible stories in each of our family histories.  Holding onto the hate of past wrongs only produces more hate, and we all know two wrongs don’t make things right.  I don’t like bigots and could never be in a relationship with someone who carries around so much hatred and resentment toward other human beings.  I also don’t like hippy/pacifists who don’t live in the real world – one filled with evil people and evil acts and sometime harsh decisions need to be made to stop them.  Free love flowers don’t mean shit when  you’re trying to protect those you love.  I don’t like thugs, enablers, punks, perverts, pedophiles, players, cheaters, liars and thieves. No one is perfect, but some of us are really, really, really fucked up.

· Wealth – I’m independent and don’t need the support of anyone else.  I’m not rich, but I’m not desperate.  However, if you can’t manage your money and are in debt up to your eyeballs, or you’re extremely wealthy and used to buying everything, including the people in your life – it’s not going to work with me.  I won’t enable you and your bad habits, nor will I become your possession.   I’m looking for love, connection, a relationship – not to be taken care of or to take care of someone else.  I’ve had money, and I’ve been dirt poor.  Money is important, but I’m a very simple girl and that’s not just a phrase.  I’m the least materialistic person I know. I hate shopping, I like costume jewelry, I’m most comfortable in cargo pants, tee-shirts and hiking boots, I only buy what I need, and would rather spend my money on filling my life with adventures and good food, and not stuff.  I don’t need a big house, a fancy car, or diamonds and pearls. I don’t give a shit about social status and I’m not going to run away and join a commune and live off the earth.  I won’t stand in political rallies or religious gatherings.

· Health – I work hard to be fit, healthy and energetic.  There’s a lot of things I want to do in this world and they require me to be healthy and strong.  I’m not going to want to do these things alone.  While my partner doesn’t have to have a six-pack or walk around with less than 5% body fat, they do have to be physically capable of participating in general activities.  I have nothing against disabilities and I’m not opposed to someone being a bit overweight… but I won’t be with someone that is detrimental to my healthy lifestyle or who is lazy or requires a pharmacy to get through the day.  It’s hard enough to encourage myself.  I’m hoping to find a partner who would inspire and encourage me even more in my quests, not someone who will tempt me or encourage me into an unhealthy lifestyle.  So, if they’re not into eating healthy gourmet food but have to have their Southern-fried meat and potatoes – you’ll go hungry.  If they’re not into regular exercise, or opposed to participating in outdoor activities and exploration– they wouldn’t be good for me. They don’t have to be maniacs and run in marathons, but they do need to be active.

· Sex – I definitely love a strong man, and I’m not talking about physical strength. I like a man of a strong mind, independent thoughts, confidence (that’s the sexiest trait in a man).  However, I want a man in physical shape so we can have great sex. He doesn’t have to be perfect (I’d really like it if he still had some work to do), but his health should be important.  I want a sensual, strong, and sexy man.  I plan to have lots and lots and lots of sex.  He’ll have to be able to physically and emotionally handle that. But sex can’t be the most important thing to him.  His health and happiness should be first. If he’s healthy and happy… the sex will follow.  Also… my heart follows my body… not the other way around.  I’m not interested in being a FWB, or in a casual, polyamorous, or  swinger relationship. I’ve tried to apply those concepts to myself and failed miserably, because it’s just not who I am. I don’t judge those lifestyles, I just happen to be a faithful, monogamous, heterosexual, one-man woman.

· Clever Mind/Sense of Humor – I can’t tolerate ignorance, bigotry, or hate.  I love independent thinking, individuality.  I don’t mind strong opinions, even if they differ from mine, as long as they’re genuine.  I don’t like mouth-pieces, people who only repeat what they’ve heard but have no clue what they’re talking about - repeating party lines, quoting scriptures out of context, or regurgitating talking points.  I hate hypocrites – people on a crusade to make others just like their ideals, yet they themselves don’t follow their own agenda.  I’m a woman of faith, but I’m not religious.  I’m educated and understand the basic elementals of business, politics, and government, but I’m not a mission to save or convert the world.  I just want to be happy. I want to smile. I want to laugh.  I really love a man who can make me giggle, especially with witty, pithy, and clever comments. The stronger original opinions he has, the more I’m impressed.

So, opposite or twin,  this bachelorette over 40 is hoping she’ll find that balanced partner out there someday.  In the meantime, I’m still taking wild adventures, seeking thrills through extreme activities, and making crazy moves on my own.  I’m happy and content with who I am and the life I now live.  It’s taken me a long time to get here, but it’s so worth it. I’ve made lots of mistakes, but I’ve also made lots of great memories and met some really great people.

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Why So Cynical?


I don’t know if my cynical radar is amplified, but it seems lately it’s picking up a particular signal and I don’t like what it’s playing.  I don’t want to think it’s the people around me, that I’d choose to surround myself with such an attitude, but it seems to be like an infection spreading over the universe.  What disease or situation am I talking about?  Cynicism, especially when it comes to love and romance.

According to Webster – a cynic is:
1.   A person who believes that only selfishness motivates human actions and who disbelieves in or minimizes selfless acts or disinterested points of view.
2.   One of a sect of Greek philosophers, 4th century BCE, and who advocated the doctrines that virtue is the only good, that the essence of virtue is self-control, and that surrender to any external influence is beneath human dignity.
3.   A person who shows or expresses a bitterly or sneeringly cynical attitude.

Where are the romantics? Surely they don’t just live in novels, because that would truly prove a depressing world in which to live. So, I ask myself WHY?  Why are people so bitter and cynical?  What’s happened to create this atmosphere and social paradigm shift? 

My only guess would be pain, heart-break and disappointment.  But, that is something we all have experienced in one form or the other, or if we haven’t yet, we will.  It’s like a human right-of-passage.  Pain cannot be avoided.  But, allowing that pain to replace hope, romance, or a positive outlook on relationships shouldn’t be accepted. 

I know too many people who are romantic at heart, but refuse to allow even a modicum of romance in their lives.  They’d rather be alone, than risk being hurt or rejected.  They’d rather protect themselves with an armored coat of cynicism than get lost in the idea of romance.

I’ve been hurt.  I’ve been let down.  I’ve been rejected.  I’ve been unloved.  I’ve been disappointed.  I’ve been used.  I’ve been abused.  But, where is MY romance, adoration and the opportunity to be cherished? When do I get a chance to be the girl deemed worthy enough to put it all on the line and risk everything, to give everything, or to trust enough to place the most precious of hopes, dreams and aspirations into her hands?  I seem to always find the damaged men who have given up on love and romance because they have failed in a previous relationship.  You know what?  It failed in my previous relationships too, but I refuse to give up.  Instead, I hope even harder. 

Someone I once loved used to tell me, “I tried that romance stuff before… the poetry, the flowers, all that junk, and all it ever got me was looking like a fool, because the first jerk that came around and treated them like dirt walked away with them.”  Perhaps he was right, because he never used any of that romance stuff on me, in fact, he withheld all romantic and intimate feelings and acts, and I stuck with him for twenty years.  If anyone should be a cynic, it should be me.

I have a friend who says he’s no good when it comes to romance, and believes he will mess up any relationship he has that involves it, and thus has decided to abort all romance from his life.  He hides that part of himself from the friend whom he claims to love and honor most.  He has convinced himself the friendship is better without it; safer, truer, though it was initially built partly by romance.  Perhaps that’s true on his part, but doesn’t he think his friend would want all of him, including the romantic side?  If he keeps that part of himself isolated, he’s cheating them.  He gets all of them, or they are forced to deny a part of who they are and only give half of themselves, and they only receive half of each other. Two halves, in this case, don’t make a whole. His cynicism of romance and the rejection of it is damaging to the relationship. 

The act of NO romance will eventually kill a relationship just as much, if not more, than previous failed romantic endeavors.  I hope cynicism doesn’t destroy this relationship and the cynic is able to keep his friend, even if it’s just as a friend.  Unrequited love hurts more than lost love. With lost love, at least the love was there at one time before it became lost.

I have another friend that doesn’t even try to have a relationship at all, who cuts themselves off from even being in any position to accidentally stumble into a romantic relationship of any kind.  Yet, sometimes I can see a small glimmer in her heart that tells me the harder she pushes the possibility away, the taller and thicker she builds her walls, the stronger I know she really wants it, but too afraid to open herself to it.  She’s convinced herself she doesn’t need love and romance at all.  We all need love, that’s how we were designed… to love and be loved in return.

I hope I can inspire her to heal her cynicism, though I feel I’m a terrible example.  She’s watched me go through my pain, my adventures, my new meetings, new experiences and new hopes, saw my tears, felt my heart-break and listened to my disappointments when I failed, yet again.  She is there with me as I fight through these fears and even with a freshly-wounded heart, watches me as I open it yet again knowing full well it could get crushed, abused or used.  I could very much fail again and fear the solidification of her cynicism. 

I believe with all my soul that as long as I keep my heart open to romance, no matter how much abuse it receives, someday… someday it will receive the love, desire and romance it deserves… that I deserve.  The only thing I know is … if I close my heart and allow this disease of cynicism to consume me… I will never receive it.  The love I have for myself continues to heal me, sustain me, and give me the strength to get up and try again.  I may get my heart broken over and over, but I also… just maybe… maybe find love.  

I choose to remain optimistic.  I wish I could inspire my friends to do the same because I truly want them all to be happy and deliriously in love.  Maybe they are perfectly happy in their cynicism and it’s my romantic notions that don’t understand. If that’s the case, and it could very well be, then I don’t want to understand and become cynical too; I am meant to be romantic.  I could love and accept them as a cynic, and hope they can love and accept me as a crazy romantic in return.  I’m not saying they’re wrong in their methods, I’m just saying their methods are not right for me.  My methods may be the wrong kind, especially in light of my constant failure, but I can’t give up.  I hope they still love me after they read this blog post… they are cynics, after all. 

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Tuesday, September 03, 2013

Romance - Wherefore Art Thou?


I’m not a big reader of romance.  I’d like to say it’s because I find the genre lacking in any real substance or literary acclaim, but that wouldn’t be the truth.  I know several romance writers who are wonderfully talented and their skills are quite evident in all their work.  So, I have to ask myself why I have such an aversion for the genre.  I believe the answer is a sad, but simple one – because I don’t know romance personally.
Being 42-years old, it’s hard to believe that a woman, a beautiful woman at that, has never really experienced romance.  Unfortunately, it’s true.  The part to this tale that’s even sadder is that I believe I’m a very romantic person.  So, for those shaking their heads in disbelief let me try to explain.
Through life circumstances in my youth, I didn’t get to really enjoy a dating period. This is often where most people experience their first samples of romance.  I wasn’t ignorant of it and saw it all around me; I just didn’t get to participate. At twenty-four I met my best friend who soon became my husband and father to our children.  He was a good man, one I will always love and respect, but he wasn’t a romantic and we didn’t have what would be considered a romantic marriage.  Even before we were married he told me, “I did all that romantic stuff like buy flowers, write poems, and be silly before with other women, but it didn’t work.  So, why bother with it?”  Over the twenty years we were married he never bothered.  He tried on occasion, but it fell flat and felt awkward because it was a forced effort, not a desired one. He told me on several occasions, “It’s better to be best friends than be romantic. Romance fades, but friends last forever.”  He wasn’t the first to say that to me, nor was he the last. I seemed to be cursed with finding myself always in the proverbial ‘friend zone’. Many of current friends are men who will only ever see me as a good friend, yet fall romantically in love with other women.  I often wonder what those other women have that I don’t. 
It is said that a writer’s best work happens when they draw from experience and from elements they intimately know. I can’t write romance.  I tried last year during the NaNoWriMo.  I actually finished the 65,000 word novel, but it’s severely lacking, because I couldn’t simply write a decent kissing scene (kissing is something else I’ve little experience).  I’ve since tried my hand at erotica, and I have to say I’ve written a few good pieces, but even in that there’s a small disconnect.  I would never pursue or write it professionally. 
Whether you like Fifty Shades of Grey by E. L. James or hated it, there was something in it that my soul cried out for and was desperately thirsty to drink, and it had nothing to do with BDSM or sex at all.  As I read it, the editor within me wanted to get out my red pen, but the woman in me cried inside the whole time.  Christian and Anastasia had me at their first email exchange.  There’s a lot the story lacks, but there’s an underlying current that resonates with women… women like me.  We want - no, we need to feel wanted, loved and desired. Respect is wonderful.  Trust is a must.  We are more than just wives, mothers and partners.  We are women, sexual beings, intelligent, loving and nurturing. 
I can understand how and why the romance genre is as large as it is, even if I still don’t connect with the stories myself.  I have to believe that one day I’ll meet someone who still believes in romance and will share their romantic feelings with and for ME.  I’m foolish enough to believe I deserve to be the girl of their affections.   
Someday.
Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Review: Sea Scoundrel by Annette Blair

*As published in West Georgia Living Magazine March/April 2013 issue.

"Falling in Love with romance all over again with ..."



Review by T.L. Gray







Author: Annette Blair
Publisher: ABA LLC; 2nd edition Expected Release Date: May 10, 2012
Pages/Genre: 267/Romance


Bio: A New York Times best-selling author, Annette Blair left her job as a Development Director and Journalism Advisor at a private New England prep school to become a full time writer. At forty books and counting, she added cozy mysteries and bewitching romantic comedies to her award-winning historical romances. She also stepped into the amazing world of self-publishing.
Awards:
1997 RWA Golden Heart Finalist
1991 A Heart of the Rockies Award
1991 A Dallas Area Romance Authors


Book Description:
Publication Date: May 10, 2012
SEA SCOUNDREL, Knave of Hearts, One of Four

--Lady Patience Kendall crossed the sea to marry, but her intended died before she arrived. Penniless and stranded, she found only one way to get home: Bring rich American Misses to England to find them titled husbands. At the ship, she realized their mothers expected each to wed the Marquess of Andover. She'd have to seek an introduction. On the journey, Captain Grant St. Benedict was anything but friendly. Just because her girls caused a few mishaps? Grant had never met a woman more irritating, or more desirable, than the Lady Patience Kendall. But however dangerous his interest, he couldn’t resist teaching the delicious distraction that independence was nothing to passion.


Review:

I’m not much of romance reader, preferring most often the heart-felt coming of age young adult stories, the mystery and magic of historical fiction, or getting lost among the adventure often spread over a series in an epic fantasy.  Not since I was a teenager have I delved into a good, old-fashioned romance.  What is a good, old-fashioned romance?  I’m not sure, but it sounded virtuous to declare it as such.  My idea of romance is Jane Austen’s Price and Prejudice, and for many years believed that the historical beauty simply set the bar too high, and no other romance would be able to compare, so why bother reading them.  I’m glad I reconsidered after all this time to give a romance novel a chance, or at least a little glance.  I’m so glad I did, and have since filled my Kindle full of Annette Blair’s lovely stories.

In the mood for a sea adventure, working on my own epic fantasy based upon the rolling waters of the open sea, I came across a copy of Sea Scoundrel by Annette Blair.  It sat unopened, unconsidered and very much neglected in my eReader for a few weeks, mostly due to my romance bias.  But, one Saturday, with a free afternoon, and a sense to do something out of my comfortable box, I scrolled across the title and opened my mind, and heart, into the world of Lady Patience Kindall and Captain Grant St. Benedict. 

From the moment when the young, vibrant, determined Lady Patience tripped and found herself sprawled out in an un-ladylike fashion on the docks for the entire world to see her in her humiliation, I was baited.  Then, when the hand of a gruff sailor reached out to help her, I saw the writing on the wall.  My heart instantly latched onto the seaman and never let go for one moment throughout the rest of the story.  I fell hard very rapidly, so quickly, in fact, I questioned whether I carried enough objectivity to read and give an unbiased review.  I smile when I say, with all confidence I am, and tout my quick affections to the effective, powerful and excellent writing of the author Annette Blair.  

I spent the afternoon lost among witty banter, embarrassing situations, and lots of moments of passionate outbursts, prejudices, and pride built from steel.  Though not quite as epic as Austen’s ingenuity, it held its own and sailed right into my heart.  The quest:  Lady Patience is to escort a handful of rich young American ladies to the English gentry in an effort to secure them a wealthy and connected family. Of course, no journey ever ends as was intended, and each of our characters, especially the young Lady Patience and the dashing Captain St. Benedict, discover who they truly are, what their personal strengths and weaknesses may be, and then making the choice to be what makes them happy.  I’m all for a Happily Ever After.  In our fast-paced world, a little character development is much needed.  This is a clean read, not filled with sex and violence, and one I found that really pulls on the heartstrings.

However, this tale doesn’t stand alone on its own, but is part of a Knave of Hearts, a band of unruly boys from the Zebulon Fishkill Academy in 1805, who make a bond, to swear an oath, to be there for one another, to call on each other in times of trouble, whatever life hands them.  Knowing about this pact from these young boys, who all grew up and become dashing romantic men, always stayed in the back of my mind as I read this adventure.  And so compelling of a writer was Annette Blair, I found myself instantly downloading and jumping right into the next story, the next part of the Knave of Hearts and haven’t even given a glance backwards. 

So, am I now a hopeless romantic?  Perhaps I’ve always been a romantic, but I’ve found a work of art that has the power to sweep me away for a few hours and allow me to go on an adventure that is not only romantic, but filled with intrigue, humor and witty banter. 

I highly recommend this series, or any book or series from Annette Blair (having now devoured most of her publication list) for any reader who wants to take a light-hearted adventure. 

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Reviewed By:
 Reviewer:  T.L. Gray is a local author from Temple, Georgia.  She has five publications including: The Blood of Cain, Keezy’s 10 Awesome Rules for Teenaged Dating, Milledgeville Misfit, The Arcainians and A Kid in the Park as part of the anthology, Triumph Over Tragedy: Anthology to help Hurricane Sandy victims.   Ms. Gray works as a full-time novelist, editor, writing tutor, social media specialist and website manager.  She is an active Member of the Carrollton Creative Writer’s and Atlanta Writer’s Club, contributing writer to Impact Times Magazine and The West Georgia Living Magazine.  T.L. Gray is a 2012 Nominee for GAYA (Georgia Author of the Year Award), a NaNoWriMo 2012 Winner, and panelist in the upcoming Friends of the Library Literary Festival in Carrollton and the 2013 Georgia Literary Festival in Milledgeville.  www.tlgray.net