To say I’m not ready for NaNoWriMo would be an understatement. My life has been taken over by our new theatre company since June and I’ve barely had time to think about writing much less write. But I have won NaNoWriMo the past four years and this would be the fifth, so I’m gonna push for it.
50,000 words in one month is 1,667 words a day. When I’m in the groove, I can knock that out in less than two hours. On a really good day, an hour. I can find that time. I must just have to give up a bit of my sanity to do so, but I can find that time.Read More »
This is a poem I have been chewing on for a while now. A long while. It’s a different side of my writing that I typically keep to myself in my journal, but this one keeps coming back to me. It is a comfort when I wonder if I made a mistake in leaving or when I need release from the hurt that lingers.
While God has given me freedom from the toxic relationship that fed this poem, I pray it might give others hope. Malice disguised as love is a cruel cage, one we often allow ourselves to stay locked in. You can free yourself from the cage, from that relationship that seeks to crush you. Finding freedom starts with simply choosing to stepping outside of the lies and see the truth: this is not what love looks like.
You’re too kind to attack
So I’m not allowed to fight back
Lest you be proven right
That I was the villain all along
Somehow my feelings matter less
And my perspective doesn’t exist
If I want this to last
If I want to stick around
It’s exclusively on your terms
With only your hurts
And I’ll take every fall
All the assumptions and unmet expectations
You’ll be the victim again while I lie here beaten
So don’t cry
Don’t cry, you say
There is no blame to share
Only my apologies if I want to hold on
To this thing we’ve built
And what is it, really?
What does it matter if the way we survive
Is with abuse and pain?
What is there to save?
Except the slave
I finished my re-write of POLARITY (previously under the working title Colors to Stars) last week and I am very thankful to see how I have grown since writing those final words. At the end of the first draft, I was very emotionally raw. I knew what I needed to say to my main character, to myself, but I wasn’t ready to accept it:
“I think if I let it go, it’s like giving her a free pass for everything.”
Jason nodded. “Maybe it is. But maybe it gives you some kind of freedom too.”
And that was the end. Maybe. Certainly not revenge, but only maybe forgiveness. When I finished that first draft, I knew what lesson I had to learn – to let go of revenge and justice as paths to find true freedom from the past. The theory had been tested in my story, and I could see the results.
After a month of space, I dove into re-writing, and while so much of the story still rings true, when I arrived that that final word, “Maybe”, it felt insufficient. But I’m still stuck on the same thing as my MC at the end.