Word 14: Room


Something held my hands together…it could’ve been rope, or chains, or wire…I couldn’t tell though. It was the darkest dark where I was. The kind of dark that not a ray of light could penetrate…that even if the door opened…the hall leading to this room would be as dark. I was sitting in a chair that felt hard and cold…it must’ve been metal. It was cold and causing me to feel colder than it really was. I began wriggling my way free. The binds that bound me were looser than I thought.  I got my hands free after painfully yanking my hands in opposite directions repeatedly. It turned out, my restraints were barely tied and made of thin threads. I untied my feet and before long was feeling my way through the blackness. I walked and walked, looking for a piece of furniture, a door, a window…but, I seemingly walked for minutes upon minutes…what clearly turned into hours, with me stopping and resting on my knees. I tried each direction, hands outstretched…and nothing. No furniture…no windows…no doors…no walls.

NO WALLS! I was in a dark, vacuous space…nothing barring me…my own restraints, feeble and incompetent…my attempts to escape failing.

…and then I opened my eyes. 🙂

14~ Romance, No Chance

Recreate your most romantic date (a real one)…

See, ANOTHER damn instance of me creating questions without myself in mind. SHIT.

I’ve been in a couple significant relationships in my life…guys I can say I was in love with and felt we’d be together forever. One relationship spanning almost the entirety of my 20’s…but, never a truly “romantic” date was experienced.

Let me just say, I think that a romantic date doesn’t HAVE to have candles, dinner, music, walks on the beach, etc. Romance is not the event…it’s the INTENT. It’s, “Baby, I made you dinner…it burned a little…but I made it for you and bought your favorite wine and sorbet…”. Romance is the result of having listened to your mate and showing them that you’re listening. It’s not a plot to get out of something you’ve done wrong. It’s not an attempt to keep them from “bitching”. It’s not a once-a-year commercially induced ploy to get some extra nookie. It’s reminding them that they mean the world to you by giving them something that is private, intimate, and personalized.

I’ve never been to an exclusively romantic dinner…

I’ve never had someone just pop up and surprise me with a favorite thing…

The one time I DID receive roses…it was because he’d fucked up…

I’ve had nice things done for me sporadically…wouldn’t call them “romantic”.

I’ve never had a man, plan a day around me…do something especially for me…aver his love for me in a special way…ever.

I’ve done romantic things for others though…so maybe that’s it. The romantic dinner I had…was planned BY me, for my ex and I.

It was our 1st anniversary. I spent all day cleaning and cooking (we’d just moved in so I had a lot to do). I made him Turkey Wings, Homemade Mashed Potatoes, and Skillet corn…and a yellow cake w/chocolate frosting. I bought some Vanilla Haagen-Dazs…and made sure when he got home everything was ready and perfect. That particular night…I knew that Whitney Houston was having a concert on HBO from South Africa…and quite appropriately…she sang one of our favorite songs, “Lover for Life”.

He enjoyed the meal and the dessert…and the concert…and me. LOL So yea…that’s my romantic date. 🙂

(See how sometimes you’re learning the perspective of things? I saw how I’d been thinking of being romanced instead of romancing and hadn’t given thought to a moment that was indeed tender. Even if it was me who had to initiate it 🙂

Dia Catorce~ A Hero Who Has Let Me Down

I cannot say that I’ve had a hero.

When I was younger…I thought the sun rose and set on Whitney Houston’s ass. Her voice was phenomenal and I learned all of her songs by heart and hit every not she did. When she began her downward spiral into drugs and public humiliation…I didn’t feel “let down”…I felt badly for her and prayed.

I’ve never put stock into one human being like that. I can’t call it…but, for me the heroes of the world were the teachers and such. To that end, my teacher Mrs. Brown, who taught me in 5th & 6th grade (it was a Gifted Program [Intermediate Humanities as it was called] that I stayed in for two years) …MIGHT be considered my hero at one time or another. Still, I can recall no one who I lauded in a heroic way and then felt let down by.

Maybe I’m lucky in that way…*shrugs*