Writing 6

Danny left before Stacy did.

They had talked about it on their walks around the grounds and knew that one of them would end up leaving the hospital before the other. It took Danny awhile to earn the privilege to leave the building unescorted, but once he did the four of them would slowly wander down the shaded blacktop driveway to the gate. As soon as they were out of eyesight of the guards and cameras, they would separate into couples. Danny and Stacy. Ted and Amy. Or sometimes the guys would be stuck with each other while the girls went off to talk.

At first he was left inside, while Stacy was out walking with Ted. Danny knew there was no reason to be jealous, but that didn't stop the dark emotion from bubbling inside him. The window grills separated and marked them as wild animals with strange patterns. They were roaming free and he had to watch while Stacy and Ted slowly left his view.

It was easy for him to move up to GP (grounds privileges). He wasn't in for wanting to hurt himself or others just for the pain that was swallowing him. He wanted to ask Stacy to come out with him, but was afraid that would be too obvious. Danny waited until the chance finally presented itself, and he asked to join her and Ted and have them show him around.

The heat felt good as the sweat started to bead on the back of his neck. It was like the doors opening at the end of a long flight when the temperature stayed the same and the recirculated air tasted stale. Danny wasn't sure if it was the smell of honeysuckles or Stacy's skin that left him dazed from a sugar high. "Danny.... Danny?"

He woke to Stacy's hand on his arm. "Are you alright?"

He shook off the light touch thinking a bug had landed and saw her eyes look into his. Dark, and haunted.

Stacy asked him again and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. It was dry like the cotton the dentist would use. He was nervous that his deep voice would startle her to turn from him. He managed a "mmm hmmm." She glanced into his eyes again, and he could only think of how he wanted those deep pools to sparkle in the sun. A butterfly landed on his shirt and for the first time he heard her sweet laugh and it fell like soft rain cooling his skin.

Writing 5

There came the time when the show could no longer go on. Danny just couldn't do it. It took too much effort to be the person, the people others wanted him to be. He decided to cancel the act but couldn't find the lines to say that fit who he really was. He was lost in other's ideas of "Danny."

The only thing he knew was the pain. The ache in his empty soul that only tears could fill. He was afraid that if he let out the flood it would wash away any slight remainder of who he thought he might be. What Danny didn't realize was that the water could be a refuge and tears could transform him in a pool of rebirth.

He made the decision to go to the hospital on a hot sunny day. He was cold inside and couldn't even be bothered to fake a return smile to the people who claimed they cared about him. He wanted his life back.

No, what he really wanted was a life of his own choosing with the ability to feel all that the world had to offer him; to travel through suffering and pain with tears and anger and arrive at happiness and accomplishment with love and sharing.

What Danny desired was understanding... of who he himself was. What he didn't realize was that he desperately wanted someone else there to be able to do that with him.

And that is how he came to love Stacy. She stood silently and accepting beside him with patience in her slow breaths, and scars of suffering dotted with faded marks from stitches up and down her arms.

Writing 4

He wanted the ache to stop, and the tears locked inside his chest to evaporate. He didn't want people to know how much he hurt and why. The thing is he didn't even want to admit it to himself. Most of the time he was pretty good at acting like everything was fine. "The Danny Show" was what he called it to himself. There were only a couple people he let behind the curtain and even then he didn't or couldn't express everything that was going on with him.

How could he when he didn't understand it himself? All he knew was the frustration, the pain, the longing, and the dreams. "How did he get here?" Was something he asked himself every so often and then he would stuff the questions down and try to forget about them. He would clear his head with a slight shake of no and get back into character.

Make A Wish

Just something that was easy and fun to write



Sometimes it would catch her by surprise. She would look at the clock and there it would be staring at her waiting for her dreams.... 11:11 "Make a wish." That's what her friends had taught her. And she would.

When she first learned about it the wishes were of ponies, a new bike, pink ballet slippers, and a brand new baseball glove that had to be broken in with saddle soap, a baseball in the pocket, secured with rubber bands and then put under your mattress.

She wasn't all girlie girl. Her best friend David could attest to that. Hell, with a nickname like Frankie you knew she didn't sit at home polishing her fingernails waiting for a boy to call.

Baseball was what brought them together. They became friends that first day at camp when she stole his favorite hat from his sweaty head and took off running. She wore it the rest of the day and it didn't bother her that it had never been washed. It was the summer before both of them were going into fourth grade, and they were inseparable.

It's not that they were outcasts. They both had friends of the same sex. It's that they were most comfortable when it was just the two of them . They understood each other. Her friends (girls) didn't get it when she talked rbi's, era's, and her dreams to play shortstop. Day's friends (boys) didn't understand his love of reading and writing. When they were together there was an easiness; conversations switching between how their team could've lost last night's game to which book was their favorite that week.



They hated the teasing, and they got it a lot. Their parents, friends and siblings just wouldn't let up. She was the only girl invited to his bar-mitzvah and as soon as he said hello at the party they both heard the kissy sounds of his classmates. He told her they were jealous when he saw the tears in her eyes as she ran from the party. And it was then that he realized that they probably were and with good reason.

She was special and even if she was only a buddy, she was his.

It took her longer to realize. All through high school, he listened to her as they would throw the ball around, about this guy or another. He never told her how he felt. He was always afraid she would laugh and think he was joking. She dated almost every guy in his class and some in the classes above and below. The almost was that she didn't date him.

It was the summer after their graduation when he told her. They were both going away to school, and he was afraid he would lose her to a college guy. He had almost lost her earlier that year. He remembered listening to her talk once again about how she felt about someone other than him, except this guy wanted to marry her. It shocked him into action.

She laughed while talking about it. Finding it so very funny that someone could even think of her in that way. She still loved baseball and hanging with the boys. She couldn't see herself as someone's wife and then later as a mom.

He took another look at the girl he loved and realized that she wasn't a girl anymore. Other people saw her as a young woman with a brilliant smile that would light up her eyes even if they were hidden behind glasses and under that ever present baseball hat.

Writing 3

It was summertime when he was admitted. Whenever he told the story that’s the word he used… not committed. Committed reminded him of commitment and love and he certainly didn’t feel that way about the hospital, about Stacy, yes, but not about that place.

Packing, driving there and even entering the building didn’t bother him. It was when he walked onto the unit. Keys had to be used to open the door, and when it closed he was extremely aware that he wasn’t the one holding them. In his ears, the soft sound of the door clicking shut echoed like the clang of prison bars. He felt like an inmate and was stuck inside just like one.

There were a couple of sofas, two tables, and some chairs around. All of them colored beige. People were hanging out and even though everyone was looking at him his head wasn’t faced down and he wasn't focused on trying to memorize the pattern of the maroon industrial carpet beneath his feet.

He was looking at the windows. They were big and the length of the room. They reached to the ceiling, but what pulled his eyes to them was the mesh grill that covered them. Another reminder that there wasn’t a way out.

His heart was thumping in his chest really pounding hard and he wanted to get to his room as quickly as possible. He was scared, terrified, and wondering what the hell he had done.

Ted looked up as he entered their room and said, “Hello, you must be the new guy.” It was almost funny to hear that tired cliché. He felt like he should be in an office wearing a suit and shaking hands.

Danny just nodded his head and noticed that the windows were here in this room too. They weren’t as big and had brown curtains hung in front of them, but they were still covered with the grill.

“Freaked out? First time?”

Danny just nodded again. Angry that Ted knew what he was feeling, but also relieved that he wasn’t the only one who had ever felt this way.

Ted walked past him on the way out and said, “The bed by the windows is mine, your’s is against the wall, and that’s your dresser. There was one opposite the foot of each bed in a bland wooden color and made of heavy duty plastic. With a night table next to each bed of the same material.

“Scared. I’m scared.” Those words kept on going around in his head. He was almost glad to be feeling something other than the numbing blackness that filled him. But then he felt the tears starting to rise. The reason he was here.

Writing 2

He never went to the meetings while he was at the hospital. It wasn’t required for him to go. In fact, they would’ve wondered why he wanted to. Everyone in the unit knew they were friends and romantic relationships were discouraged and frowned upon. So he tried to hide his true feelings for her in the friendship that the four of them shared.

They hung out together... smoking, playing cards, talking and playing more cards. But he didn’t smoke. It was just another thing that set him apart. They looked so cool with those cigarettes in their hands and blowing smoke ring after ring.

He wanted to fit in, be cool, manly... and he trusted Ted to show him how. They sat at the table and he learned how to pack the cigarettes by tapping the box so they would burn better. Stacy wasn’t around. There was no way he was going to make a fool of himself in front of her. He knew from watching tv that the first time someone tried to smoke they ended up coughing and looking ridiculous.

That’s what happened to him. His first puff was fine. Then Ted told him to really inhale and bring the smoke down into his lungs. The coughing fit started and so did the laughing. But he didn’t give up. He kept on trying intent on being able to smoke like a natural by the time Stacy got back.

It didn’t work. As soon as she walked through the door, most of the people on the unit including the counselors were vying to tell her how big strong Danny was brought low by some paper and tobacco. While trying to play it off, he noticed a little spark in her eyes and her lips tilted up at the edges ever so slightly. Danny decided that it was worth the attention and humiliation. But that was the end of his smoking.

Writing

I started this months ago and just found it. It's the beginning of a story or something. I usually write poetry but this just flowed out of me.



MEETINGS

He would go to the meetings with her. He wasn't exactly sure why he did it, just that it felt like the right thing to do. But it didn't really feel right. He didn't fit in. He wasn't a drinker and didn't even like beer, something he had never told his buddies instead usually volunteered to be the designated driver.

They met in a hospital. He saw her and wanted to save her, and he always wondered what she saw in him. He wanted to erase the scars on her arms with kisses and show her that life was worth living. He wanted her to live to spend her life with him.

He was so naive.

It wasn't the first time she had been here or even hospitalized. She knew her way around, the schedules, the terms, how it all worked. She seemed to know the staff, the counselors, the doctors, and even the cafeteria workers. She said hi to them all, but rarely smiled back at them.

He followed her around with his eyes. He didn't want to draw any undue attention to himself. The fact was she brought him out of his own misery. When he was thinking of her he wasn't wondering how the world could be so black with only a little gray. He wasn't stuck in his mind and his chest wasn’t aching with all those unshed tears.

Lying on his bed after he unpacked he discovered that he was only allowed to be in his room to sleep. He had to socialize. Just what he didn't want to do. He wished that his hair was just a little longer to cover more of his face. It didn't make sense and he knew it, but he felt that if he couldn't see them they couldn't see him.

Only after they became closer and would sit and talk at the round table playing crazy eights or hearts with other patients, did she lift her head to look at him. He felt her eyes studying him, but he was never quick enough to meet her gaze. He still had no idea why she was in. The scars on her arms were definitely a year or two old, and she hadn't said much but her name when they were all together in group. He felt a kinship with her, even though things had never been bad enough for him to try and disappear from the pain forever.

The longer he stayed in the hospital the more comfortable he felt there. But that’s not where he wanted to be. A little apartment with Stacy was what he was dreaming of. He kept that to himself. It was a dream just like the ones he had while lying in his bed waiting for sleep to close his eyes. In his dream they were happy and together. Her dark eyes would meet his with a smile. And that’s when he usually fell asleep. Thinking of those dark eyes filled with happiness.

The Ones You Love

OK, so I have the title, but what about the rest.

This is just going to be a rambling post. It feels like I haven't posted in a couple of days. I guess I'm getting used to writing. It's become something that I miss like a loved one far away. Perhaps you don't think of them every second, but when your world gets quiet they fill your thoughts.

I had some strange dreams over Shabbos. And I mean STRANGE! My dreams are usually very vivid and that includes this one. I can even remember the street signs and the names of the people I met. It started with someone moving in next door to my mom's house. A couple around my age, with no kids, and a spotted mutt.

They were celebrating their anniversary with a good friend (guy), and their parents. Somehow I got pulled into it and we were watching old movies. The friend and I were hitting it off because I was impressed with the fact he knew the names of the actors and had seen other movies starring them. Actually, the real reason why I was impressed was that the movies were romantic ones, and he just didn't strike me as the type of guy who would watch them let alone remember them.

I felt pulled towards him and shy and embarrassed at the same time which, of course, caused me to trip over my own feet while helping carry the dessert plates to the kitchen. I could feel my face turn warm, and can feel it right now even though it was only a dream.

You can tell that dream was definitely realistic. Sooo something that I would do. Except in real life the plates would have crashed to the floor breaking into pieces.

When I left the house I couldn't remember his name, and I remember getting all flustered again and hoping he didn't notice. Of course, that wasn't the case. He winked like he knew what I was feeling which ended up with me almost falling down the stairs outside.

My dream somehow shifted to ex-boyfriends. (Yes, I have a lot of them) Moshe was the one who had the starring role. In the dream he wanted to marry me. I thought it was kind of funny in my dream because we cared about each other very much in real life, but I don't think he ever really felt that way about me. Just to let you know, I sometimes recognize the fact that I'm dreaming or that my dreams incorporate so much of real life that during them I'm trying to figure out when things actually took place, or feelings changed.

Back to Moshe... He looked like Moshe, blonde hair, blue eyes, Cubs baseball cap, white T-shirt, blue jeans and several inches taller than I was. He spotted me from his apartment where he was having a party and his buddies started yelling at me to stop. They were shouting that Moshe had something important to ask me. I remember being very surprised because it was during a Cub's game, and nothing came between Mosh and his Cubs, but there he was running across the lawn to me. I started running away once I realized what it was he was going to ask me.

I've always loved Moshe. No! Not like that. Even though, we did fool around a bit. I met Moshe my first year in seminary and we both went back second year. You might think that I was rebellious and didn't respect my teachers and rebbeim, but that wasn't the case, even though he did sleep over in our apartment one night. That was a fun night. And no, I wasn't thrown out, even though I walked into sem the next day sporting a hickey in plain sight.

OK, back to the crazy dream. Before Mosh had a chance to ask me the dream slipped into a different scene. It was Pesach and my family was having a seder with another ex-boyfriend's family. They've never really met, and I remember being surprised that we were all together. The ex wasn't there though. At some point his parents made a disparaging comment about me, and my mother took umbrage. (No, I don't use the word umbrage in my regular speech, but it fits here and it's fun to do.) A big fight ensued and I slipped out the door not wanting to get involved.

That's when Mark, Izzy, and some other exes showed up, and I got lost trying to get to some other friends. I was wearing pink yummy fleece pajamas, my winter coat, my big clodhopper snow boots and my usual baseball cap, Yankees, of course.

The rest of this dream will have to wait...

And I think that I'll also write the post that should go with the above title.

Happiness Is A...

...good book, and all the books I've read by Harlan Ellison are included in that category.

I just got a new one today. A special treat because someone had given DB some books we already had at home. We returned them and I let him pick out some for himself. Then I got one.

HOORAY!! It's mine. It doesn't have to be returned at a specific time. The local library doesn't have that great an assortment of Science Fiction. I can read it now and then choose to read it again in two months without having to be concerned that it's been checked out. I can take it with me into the tub and not have to worry about drops of water on the pages. I can savor it along with chocolate chip cookies and care less about the crumbs that fall.

I've got a huge crush on Harlan Ellison. How could I not when he writes the way he does? This book is a compilation of some of his short stories but with an introduction before each one. I totally love (I was trying to come up with a different description but this is what stuck) when an author does this. You can look into his mind and heart and see how he ticks or tocks.

For all you people who kind of tuned out as soon as you saw the words Science Fiction, WAKE UP!!! This man is one of the greatest short story writers. I feel like a fool trying to use the same words he does in describing him. The words that he transforms into thoughts of gold or dung however you choose to see it. He holds no punches and faces the world with his wicked humor and enduring hope. Yes, Mr. Ellison, your hope is evident as much as you might want to hide it and shovel it under the sarcasm of events that your characters endure. This hope, to quote you, is that "you are not alone"... even with your deepest fears.

Going to stop writing and start reading letting my mind follow along with his.