So I have been debating recently about putting more thoughts on paper. I have all these crazy (and sometimes far fetched) stories bouncing around in my head. I just wonder what could come of them if I put them down for the world to read. 

Good or bad? I’m not sure. My hold back is the vulnerability that comes with it. I’m not a strong writer and I definitely have a bad habit of assuming you know what I’m talking about and not properly conveying important points like the setting. I barely know how to write to make you feel, smell, or taste anything in my story, which for me is frustrating because I want people to know and love my writing. For it to be great. 

Nevertheless, I think my biggest hold back would be that in each of these stories there is a piece of me. A piece that I don’t expose to anyone. Critical comments would be taken personally and be very hurtful. 

Ultimately I think I need to get this thoughts out. Regardless of the risk, the challenge and relief would be worth it. Plus, I have the time to write and develop myself. 



The panic. The fear. The breathless. The The illusion of reality. Until it becomes real then what you do?

You wake up.

You start to lose the visions in your mind. You start to panic just a little bit inside. You think. You think hard. Yet every thought seems to escape you.

And some form of reality begins to make sense. You’re not where you thought you were.


You get that uneasy feeling that settles in the pit if your stomach. You know something is wrong. You don’t know where it begins, where it ends.

And one profound thought fills your mind. Negative overwhelms you. You try to ignore it. But it just keeps coming back. It is at the fore most thought of your mind at all times even though you don’t want to be. You know something is wrong but you cannot do anything.


I want you here with me now. So I can hold you my arms and cry silently. But alas, we are worlds apart. Some by our choosing, some not.

Return to me.


I hate that moment when you realize that you miss someone. That moment when all you want to do is curl up in their arms and relax and fall into a deep sleep. Cry silently to yourself.

It’s in that moment that emotions win. They get the best of you. They are uncontrollable and sneaky. And I can’t control them. They leave me marginally breathless. They untie the very strings that hold me together. Disarm me. Make me vulnerable.

So do you.


It was this incredibly great moment of pure bliss. Surrounded by floating feathers, bouncing like small children on the bed without a care in the world. Odd to think that the series of actions that led to this delightful pause was anything but care free. Perhaps careless, but not care free. Amazing how chaos can lead to clarity.

What began as a simple outing to the theater, quickly dissolved into violence, understanding and revelations.

We were having an evening of relaxation and progress in our ever evolving championship. We were seated and the show began right on time. We were building through the storyline, the plot was thickening. Suddenly, as if part of the production, people swarmed in, orders were given to the audience. I thought, “Wow. What a great directorial call. Literally encompassing the audience, making them the action.” But the immediate change in his body language told me otherwise. It was very subtle, but I noticed it. I notice everything about him. I could see he was making a plan, attempting to conceal us. To protect, escape and evade.

Then he moved with the swiftness that told me this was not his first rodeo. I knew the seriousness of the situation before he even spoke. He never had to utter a word. His look was communication enough. It was all there in a brief glancing moment: “Never take your eyes off me. Do not speak. Do as you’re told.” Done. I never questioned a thing.

I ran. I moved. I followed with absolute precision. Crouched against the wall I could feel his back pressing me there. I dared not make a move or a peep.

We dropped to the floor. Ran along the row of seats. A blur of velvet red. There were screams. People dashing and some frozen in fear.

“Pop. Pop. Pop.” The rhythmic gunfire accented the frenzy.

It was the longest three minutes of my life. Like Simon says: green light, RED LIGHT!

Through the rows. Up the aisles.


A flood of air whipped through my lungs.Cold floor. Lobby. Shit. Pounding. Elevator!

We made it. I breathed if only for a moment. Here I was in a dinky elevator with him and that ridiculously corny elevator music. Only in the movies I thought.

I look at him–us. Standing side by side. He was a million miles from me. Lost in some expansive thought that was multiplying like white mice.

Simplicity was our thing. I held his hand. Closed my eyes and repeated, “Come back to me.” I let it fill me up. Slowly, until I was beaming inside. Then there he was. He was with me in that moment in that dinky little vertical moving box.


Damn. Moment was gone but it was a snap shot. Imprinted on my brain forever. I was so wrapped up in my Polaroid that I failed to realize we were rushing out into some unfamiliar underground garage. This wasn’t the way we came in. I looked. Then I really saw. Holy shit! What a collection of cars! The black on black ’10 vet, the hot red ’69 white rag top mustang, the ice white ’12 Audi R8 spyder. In love——

Snap back into it Nelson.

He was ripping through a room. 30 seconds later he appeared with a leather jacket. I took it without question. He disappeared again to the darkness of the garage.

Weird. Never thought I’d be standing in a garage in high heels, jeans and a borrowed leather jacket surrounded by the most breath taking cars.



Click. Click. That’s my package of hotness on a bike. Lord kill me now. Only this happens in the movies.

Without hesitation that rumbling beast stopped six inches from me. You don’t have to tell me twice to ride. I’m on and we’re off!  Fierce. Powerful. Cutting through the night at a blur of fury. I was at home with this moment. Raw with this man. We–I–had no direction but he knew where this path lead. Up a winding cavern road. Climbing away from the city lights. I was so lost in my thoughts that never noticed the monstrous house rising up from the skyline. The glass and curves. The way it blended with the earth. An architect’s dream. Truly devine.

The rumble was gone. We where stopped. I dismounted and wondered aimlessly up the front walk. Truly overwhelming. He lightly touched my back. A thousand miles away.

I followed him into the house but he was gone. In his own world. I felt so out of place. My silence was interrupted by an describable sound of manly frustration.

Uh oh.

I rushed to find him. He was destroying something. Violating the innocence of an object. I rounded the corner to witness a grown ass man ripping apart feather pillows. A manly man surrounded by delicate lightness. Oh the irony. He never faultered. He continued to dominate.

Slowly coming back to me. He realized his absurdness. His body language began to alter as if perplexed. Embarrassed by the site. He turned to face me.

I moved across the room until I was six inches from him. What to do? What to do?

I did the most natural thing that came to me. I looked deep into his sea blue eyes with every bit of my soul. I let my hands wander to his face. I leaned in and kissed him with every ounce of my being. I knew in that moment that I loved him for exactly who he was. He knew it. I knew it. There were no words to be spoken; no questions to be answered.


It was a carefully considered moment that was devoured by reality when I threw those feathers in the air and giggled like it was my first love.

Wedding vs. Marriage

After reading the article below, I had a moment of revelation. I saw the light. The light bulb was burning bright in my head. This is Goose.

Background: Goose and I have been friends since high school. I’m not really sure why but we are somehow still friends. Goose is and always has been insane when it comes to men. I’ve never known her to be without a men for more than a week. Typically she doesn’t leave one man until she has another lined up. She is truly one of those women who cannot live without a man.

Throughout most of our high school years she dated one guy. One of those on-again, off-again things. Mostly on though. She was totally engrossed with him. He was all she could see. After we graduated she continued on with her relationship. She broke up with him for about a year at one point. But never fear they got back together.

In June of 2010 they got married and planned their happily ever after.

Modern Day: She filed for divorce about a year after she got married. I was shocked. Honestly floored. We discussed some of the issues they were having, and she did keep a great deal to herself. I assume (not having been in the situation) that there are just things that she knows but never wants to say aloud.

I asked her at one point if she knew on her wedding day that she didn’t want to get married. She said yes. I asked her why she did then. She replied with “Because I was doing what everyone else wanted me to do.”

I don’t get it. How can you get married and know that you really didn’t want to? Again, floored but this information.

But never fear, there are more surprises in store. She cheated on her husband. An emotional affair with just a kiss, but nonetheless cheating. She is still with the guy. She’s a hopeless romantic honestly. They’ve been together for 4 months. I see both good and bad in the relationship. He encourages her alot to write, develop her music, dance, expand her mind. Again, all positive things, which I’m very grateful for.

But here’s the kicker. He’s still married (in the process of divorce) and has a child. (Wait for it) And they are discussing marriage! 

Again, insane!  I really am trying to be supportive but things like this make me never ever ever want to get married. It’s scary as hell.

I also worry that she is going to jump into something and later realize it was a horrible idea. One divorce was hard enough. Two would nearly kill her. Not to mention the fact that the whole idea of marriage has been completely defiled.

Marriage is like a new game. It’s just for sport and I don’t want to play because the rules are too damn crazy!

Little Words

“It’s amazing, some people, they just say these small little things, one sentence and it changes the way you feel about them in an instant. Small little words that can hurt you so much or make you fall deeply in love forever. It changes everything, nothing between you is ever really the same again, even if they don’t know it.”


Words. So simple yet so powerful. Whether used alone or in conjunction with a number of other signs, they speak volumes of your character. I’ve learned to never underestimate the power of words and the mark they leave behind. Words can cut deep into someones soul, leave them scarred. Or they can be the golden light needed to save someone. They can inspire rage or happiness; delight in the present or scorn the past. Words are innocent, yet full of guilt, remorse and regret.

All you need to decide is if they are real.

Wounded Warriors

The Virginia Military Institute is doing a fundraising event for the Wounded Warriors Project called “Pullups for Patriots”. Click on the link above and sponsor on of the guys please. They are all VMI cadets. There is at least 1 veteran on the list with 2 deployments under his belt. And most of them are commissioning in the military on May 15th.

Please help support the men and women who gave their lives for your freedom.

(Side note: Mr. Soup and Mr. Breadstick are both on the list if that helps motivate any of you.)