So, I’ve written to page 14, but I feel like I need to redo some of the stuff I’ve written. The current scene isn’t working out as I had planned, and I feel like I’m being told that that’s not how it needs to be. So, I’ll change it and see if that works out better.

Nothing else to report. It’s been a bit busy due to the holidays, but I’m looking forward to Christmas and the break it will bring. I’m sure the girls will be busy with the fun things from Mom and Dad, and that should give me time to think.

Strange. I’m usually so open about this, but here I am sitting across from the most gorgeous man I have ever met, and instead of wearing my heart out on my sleeve, I’m carrying it in my pocket. Maybe you could say I was being safe, cautious, careful, but when have I done that before? I realize that it wasn’t everyday I meet someone as charming and wonderful, and independently wealthy as this, and perhaps that was what scared me.

He was brutally honest, in every question I asked him, or so it would appear. Occasionally his cheeks would redden as I asked him questions about past women he had seen, or been with. And yet as I wanted to allow myself to fall for him, to give my heart to him, I carried it in my pocket. This was an unusual action for me, I would always talk about meeting Mr. Right, falling in love on our first date, going home and having a wonderful night with him, but it wasn’t that way.

As we stood to leave, he gently took my hand and kissed me, twice. I smiled and blushed, something else that was strange for me. He led me to the door and proceeded to help me into my coat, wrapped his arm around my waist and lead me to his car. I felt excited and my heart began to flutter, but I carried it in my pocket. He took me home, took me to the door and kissed me deeply. He made small talk before heading back to his car. And that was it.

As I related my story, her arms fell forward and her mouth opened slightly. Her brow creased and she looked into my eyes. “How did you not fall for him?”

I smiled “I never gave him my heart. I carried it in my pocket.”

I started to work on my book a little bit. I got seven pages written. I think they are good, full of excitement and action. I am going to email my daily work to a sibling or my mother to look over. I just need to figure out who will have the time. In the meantime. I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. I just want to take the time needed to make each page great! So, I may not advance in pages, but the work will be quality work.

I was standing against the cold brick wall in my summer dress, littered with flowers of blue and violet, staring at the dancing fire as it cast light into the otherwise dark room. Occasionally I would glance down at the bracelet on my ankle, given to me by my grandfather when I was a girl of four. How I cared for it each day, made sure to shine it and keep it looking like new.

I heard the door open and looked back at him to see him watching me as he buttoned the top button of his gray uniform. I tucked a loose strand of hair back behind my ear and my heart sank.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” I tried to sound strong, but I could hear the concern in my voice.

He let out a sigh and his eyes dropped to the floor. “I don’t know.” He replied, “We’ll be heading toward the front at a command. “It’s going to be dark soon, and you know he likes to strike in the night.” He glanced at the floor before studying me.

I turned back to the window and fought back the tears that were trying my eyes. “I’ll pray for you.” I said and brought my hands together. I knew he wasn’t a religious man, but I hoped it would make him feel at ease. “I know you don’t believe it, but I think it helps.” I faced him.

I watched his lips twitch. “Thank you.” He grabbed his heavy coat and I crossed the room and entered his warm embrace. The tears won the battle as he kissed my forehead. “Keep well.” He said then walked out the door.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

I couldn’t think of anything to write about yesterday, the topic just didn’t seem to form any ideas in my mind. Likewise for the topic today, Write about a series of mishaps, I could string any group of accidents together and call it quits for the day, but I’m not feeling very creative today. This week has really drained me. I can’t put my finger on what’s going on, but I feel extremely tired and not really excited about anything.

So, I’ll leave this post for today and call it good. That way I won’t feel guilty for not writing and make up for not posting anything yesterday. I graduate tomorrow, I guess I’m excited about that, but for some reason, I don’t feel like it’s as big a deal as it really is. But that’s okay, I’m sure that when I cross the stage tomorrow, all that will change!

I can hardly believe that another year is coming to an end. The time goes too quickly. I did not accomplish much this year, as far as my personal goals are concerned, but I feel that I did accomplish great things. It’s nice to look back over the past year and remember the life changing events, the not so life changing events, and the events that really try and call themselves so. Either way, Welcome December, please don’t be too harsh on us.

It was still as visible to me as if I were looking at it now. She was standing against the back wall, her hair double braided, wearing her blue flowered summer dress that matched her eyes. Her feet were bare, except the anklet she never took off, given to her by an old lover. She cherished that thing more than any other possession she kept, and the way she maintained the shine on it, you would have thought it was new.

A fire was bellowing loudly, dancing color into the otherwise dim room that had a single wooden chair, only feet away. The tattered rug on the floor, a family heirloom as it were, making it’s comforting presence ever known, something she despised. It could have been the faded color, or the fact that even though she was the recipient, she felt guilty that it had been hers for the taking.

I remained still, by the open door leading into her bedroom where a sweet smell occasionally graced my nostril, interrupting my breathing pattern as I stopped to take it in. I had missed the top button of my shirt and was fumbling with it as I watched her. A strand of hair had pulled loose and she tucked it behind her ear.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” she asks me, a hint of concern edged her voice.

I let out a breath and stare at my dirty boots. ” I don’t know. We’ll be heading toward the front at a command. It’s going to be dark soon, and you know he likes to strike in the night.” As I closed my mouth a feeling swept over me that this would indeed be the last time my eyes could behold her beauty.

“I’ll pray for you.” she said as she clasp her hands and turned away from the window to face me. “I know you don’t believe it, but I think it helps.”

A comment like that usually brought a frown to my face, but I held it. I had not prayed since He took my father, eight years ago. “Thank you.” I pulled on my winter coat before crossing the room. She fell into my arms in one last embrace, tears welled within her bottomless eyes. “Keep well.” I kissed her forehead then headed out the door.