“Let me get this straight.” He took in a deep breath and turned on his side so that he was gazing into her beautiful stormy eyes. “You think that things have changed because I haven’t put any moves on you.” He paused. “When I thought that you didn’t want me to put the moves on you.”
A smile graced her lips. “You make it sound…”
“Do you think that I don’t want to?”
She opened her mouth then clamped it shut. “Because that is the furthest from the truth. I have to take a cold shower every night because I am always overheating whenever I’m around you.” He pulled a careless hand through his hair although his eyes never left hers. And then he was moving closer. To his surprise as well as delight she did not back off but stood her ground. “I’m going to…”
Victoria didn’t give him time to finish that sentence as she pressed her lips to his in order to receive his kiss. At the last possible second, she closed her eyes as Nick thoroughly explored her mouth with a hunger that could no longer be contained.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
The Ugliness of Domestic Violence
While I had always guessed that there was something wrong with our relationship I still thought that maybe he can change. And for approximately two years he had. He had stopped hitting me, sure we had argued but he had held himself in check. It was then that I was convinced that he had changed. It was two glorious years of not quite believing that we had come through some of the darkest days. And then slowly but surely the violence reared its ugly head. It began small and as time moved on it progressed until I found myself back into the thick of the ugliness once again. Those two years were suddenly gone, as though they had never existed. And I found myself in a place where I didn’t want to be. Once again walking on eggshells and once again masking the pain and bruises. Covering bruises on one’s face has to be one of the hardest things to do. Sure, they can be masked but they cannot be taken out of the windows of the soul. Eyes speak when words do not.
What many people do not realize is that you do not need to see a physical bruise to have Domestic Violence present. There are some bruises that no one had ever seen. Great gashes taken out of someone’s self esteem. Wounds that pierce so deep they cannot be seen with the naked eye. Hope shattered to the ground and broken.
I found myself back in a place I didn’t want to be and for the life of me I couldn’t recall how it had happened. How could one word undo everything in the space of a millisecond? How? Like everything else, it was a process. Yet, when it happened again it had been like a great unleashing of the beast. Two years of pent-up aggression came pouring out. I was weak. I was broken. And it was all my fault, though I wasn’t sure how that was possible, I accepted it. I accepted it because I could not refute it.
My mind went on rewind, and suddenly I could no longer remember a time when I hadn’t been abused. Those two years went down the drain in the blink of an eye. Why? Because the abuse had become greater. The intensity was amazing. The walking on eggshells became an everyday thing. It was a part of my life as natural as breathing. The pain became squelched just as sure as my inner flame was being snuffed out. At that point I was only living for my kids. They needed me. Maybe that was my saving grace because there didn’t seem to be anything else to live for at that point in time.
There was more than once when I looked into his eyes and I thought my God, he is going to kill me! This man is actually capable of snuffing out my life. A wave of helplessness came over me that had been crippling. And there were a couple of times that I had been backed into a corner, literally, and I came out swinging.
Life as I had known it became an endless battle of getting through one more day. Somewhere along the line it became surreal. This is what many people never realize. Domestic Violence does NOT happen over night. It is a process, sometimes a long drawn out process. I have often wondered how a person could put their hands on another person, a person they claim to love, and beat them up for something as silly as forgetting to put the silverware on the table. It still eludes me more than twenty years after the fact. It is something I do not understand and am thinking maybe it is something I never will.
What many people do not realize is that you do not need to see a physical bruise to have Domestic Violence present. There are some bruises that no one had ever seen. Great gashes taken out of someone’s self esteem. Wounds that pierce so deep they cannot be seen with the naked eye. Hope shattered to the ground and broken.
I found myself back in a place I didn’t want to be and for the life of me I couldn’t recall how it had happened. How could one word undo everything in the space of a millisecond? How? Like everything else, it was a process. Yet, when it happened again it had been like a great unleashing of the beast. Two years of pent-up aggression came pouring out. I was weak. I was broken. And it was all my fault, though I wasn’t sure how that was possible, I accepted it. I accepted it because I could not refute it.
My mind went on rewind, and suddenly I could no longer remember a time when I hadn’t been abused. Those two years went down the drain in the blink of an eye. Why? Because the abuse had become greater. The intensity was amazing. The walking on eggshells became an everyday thing. It was a part of my life as natural as breathing. The pain became squelched just as sure as my inner flame was being snuffed out. At that point I was only living for my kids. They needed me. Maybe that was my saving grace because there didn’t seem to be anything else to live for at that point in time.
There was more than once when I looked into his eyes and I thought my God, he is going to kill me! This man is actually capable of snuffing out my life. A wave of helplessness came over me that had been crippling. And there were a couple of times that I had been backed into a corner, literally, and I came out swinging.
Life as I had known it became an endless battle of getting through one more day. Somewhere along the line it became surreal. This is what many people never realize. Domestic Violence does NOT happen over night. It is a process, sometimes a long drawn out process. I have often wondered how a person could put their hands on another person, a person they claim to love, and beat them up for something as silly as forgetting to put the silverware on the table. It still eludes me more than twenty years after the fact. It is something I do not understand and am thinking maybe it is something I never will.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Coming Home for Christmas…
Prologue
Twenty years was a long time to stay away. Melanie Winston realized that fact the moment she stepped foot into the state of New Jersey. She had been gone for too long and so much had changed. The cab ride from the airport had certainly proven to be an eye opener. There was no time for nostalgia she realized as a small flurry surrounded the cab as they sped into the night heading straight for a past she had thought dead and buried.
Robert McGowan loaded his tools into the van early Saturday morning. Normally he didn’t work on the weekends but this had been an emergency appointment in the area for one of his prominent customers. As he flexed his shoulders he took a look around at the light dusting of snow that had fallen overnight. Not enough to make a mess but enough to make going without heat even for a couple of hours unbearable.
Leaving town twenty years earlier had been bad enough. Although her parents had made the decision and Melanie hadn’t a choice in the matter did little to ease the suffering it had caused. Now it seemed that no matter which way Melanie could slice it this trip had been long overdue. Truth be known she had missed her grandmother terribly and it had been unfair for all concerned. There were too many deep dark secrets that could be uncovered upon her return. She just had to make sure that she kept to herself for the couple of weeks she would be in town. That shouldn’t prove difficult. When she went back home she wanted to go back with a clear conscious and more importantly an intact heart.
Twenty years was a long time to stay away. Melanie Winston realized that fact the moment she stepped foot into the state of New Jersey. She had been gone for too long and so much had changed. The cab ride from the airport had certainly proven to be an eye opener. There was no time for nostalgia she realized as a small flurry surrounded the cab as they sped into the night heading straight for a past she had thought dead and buried.
Robert McGowan loaded his tools into the van early Saturday morning. Normally he didn’t work on the weekends but this had been an emergency appointment in the area for one of his prominent customers. As he flexed his shoulders he took a look around at the light dusting of snow that had fallen overnight. Not enough to make a mess but enough to make going without heat even for a couple of hours unbearable.
Leaving town twenty years earlier had been bad enough. Although her parents had made the decision and Melanie hadn’t a choice in the matter did little to ease the suffering it had caused. Now it seemed that no matter which way Melanie could slice it this trip had been long overdue. Truth be known she had missed her grandmother terribly and it had been unfair for all concerned. There were too many deep dark secrets that could be uncovered upon her return. She just had to make sure that she kept to herself for the couple of weeks she would be in town. That shouldn’t prove difficult. When she went back home she wanted to go back with a clear conscious and more importantly an intact heart.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Life's a Beach
If I see one more television commercial showing me the shoreline I think I am going to scream. For the last couple of weeks all I have been saying is how I could use ONE beach day. Just one nice clear sunny day to sit on the sand and look out onto the water. I think it may be just what I need to get my creative juices flowing once again. Either that or I may just scrap New Beginnings and go in another direction.
I have so many ideas, some fresh and new, and some oldies still floating around in my head. Guess I just need to peddle on through. Maybe I need to do a rant every now and again just to clear my head. That beach day is sounding better and better each time I am confronted with the thought. One of these days…
I have so many ideas, some fresh and new, and some oldies still floating around in my head. Guess I just need to peddle on through. Maybe I need to do a rant every now and again just to clear my head. That beach day is sounding better and better each time I am confronted with the thought. One of these days…
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Enable
Enable –
allow, facilitate, permit, make possible…
Just your basic definition of a word that Rob and I spoke about yesterday. I thought it was worth posting and I am sure these definitions are only the minimum of what to enable someone actually means in every sense of the word…
allow, facilitate, permit, make possible…
Just your basic definition of a word that Rob and I spoke about yesterday. I thought it was worth posting and I am sure these definitions are only the minimum of what to enable someone actually means in every sense of the word…
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Mother’s Love
No one will ever witness a mother’s strong will
While everyone else thinks she may be weak
That’s usually then when her strength abounds
Though her temperance might sometimes appear meek.
When they’re small she monitors their every move
In control of where they go and what they do.
She is their protection in a world so big and wide
The one when they are frightened they have run to.
Then one day she awakens and the earth has shifted
They no longer need her as they had before
So a little bit at a time she has to learn to step back
The little arguments have turned into a hard cold war.
Although she may disagree with her children’s actions
She may speak up when she thinks they’re headed for a fall
They brush aside the wisdom she tries to share
As they have erected an insurmountable wall.
Sometimes she has to construct her own wall of defense
While she prays to God to bestow His strength from above
Keeping carefully guarded boundaries between mother and wife
While ever prayerful she has to put into effect some tough love.
The pain grips her heart as she feels powerless to help
And while her heart hurts to turn the other cheek
She knows if she doesn’t she will be just another enabler
So she digs her heels in when they accuse her of being weak.
She stands beside her husband to provide a united front
Though he doesn’t seem to feel the same intensity of pain
But a mother’s love runs deeper than any ocean
And she knows that these relationships will come through the rain.
As she stands unwavering while waiting for that break in the clouds
Wondering if there will be just a glimmer of some sunlight
She has faith that the light will eventually come bursting through
While keeping the Lord’s precious promises well within her sight.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
What I consider my children
I consider my children "Diamonds in the Rough." The power of prayer and the walk of faith will eventually make them shine.
I consider my children "Shining Stars." Though they may barely let out a flicker, they will shine brightly as God leads them through life's trials.
I consider my children "Blessed." Though they may not know it at this time. God's promise to His children is that their families WILL be saved.
I consider my children "Gifts." The Lord had blessed me with three wonderful 'gifts.' I will always thank Him for these 'gifts.' and will always pray for the best for all three of my precious 'gifts!'
I consider my children "Shining Stars." Though they may barely let out a flicker, they will shine brightly as God leads them through life's trials.
I consider my children "Blessed." Though they may not know it at this time. God's promise to His children is that their families WILL be saved.
I consider my children "Gifts." The Lord had blessed me with three wonderful 'gifts.' I will always thank Him for these 'gifts.' and will always pray for the best for all three of my precious 'gifts!'
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)