LOVE IS IN THE AIR 2
Love is in the Air
A Dazzling Collection of Love Stories and Love Advice for the Romantic in You!
by Rebecca Camarena, Sandy Lender, Gale Sparks, Dorothy Thompson, Michael Witherspoon, and Jamieson Wolf
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Love is in the Air
Book Content Copyright © 2007 by The Writer’s Life Publications
This is a free eBook and may be distributed on your websites, newsletters or used as a bonus eBook for selling your own eBooks or products. However, this book may NOT be sold in any form. All stories in this eBook are copyrighted by the individual authors. None of their stories may be distributed as a single property.
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Table of Contents
THE MIRACLE ROCK by Dorothy Thompson………………………6 AT LAST by Sandy Lender…………………………………………….10 MEETING THE MAN OF MY DREAMS by Abigail Farrier……….19 TO LOVE A SEA CAPTAIN by Hattie Jenkins………………………23 HER BLUE EYES IN THE RAIN by Gale Sparks……………...... 25 THE 3 SIGNS TO LOOK FOR IN A SOUL MATE by Dorothy Thompson………………………………………………………………..35 DAD’S TIPS ON LOVE AND MARRIAGE (5 Answers to Those Questions a Woman Asks in Marriage) by Rebecca Camarena………40 IS HE MY SOUL MATE…OR NOT? by Dorothy Thompson……….45 LOOKING FOR LOVE, IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES by Jamieson Wolf………………………………………………………………………48 ARE YOU IN RELATIONSHIP REMISSION? by Dorothy Thompson………………………………………………………………...63 THE MESSAGE by Michael S. Witherspoon…………………………..67 SIX WAYS TO LOSE YOUR SOUL MATE (AND HOW YOU CAN AVOID EVERY ONE OF THEM) by Dorothy Thompson……………72
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Foreword
By Dorothy Thompson
Thank you so much for downloading our free e-book, Love is in the Air!
Love is in the Air is the compilation of short stories and articles written by the members of the online Yahoo! Group, The Writer’s Life, founded in 2001. Our members consist of writers who wish to share their stories and articles in eBook format as a free gift to you.
You are free to pass this free eBook on as long as the entire contents remain intact.
Enjoy and thank you for downloading!
Dorothy Thompson Editor, The Writer’s Life www.thewriterslife.net [email protected]
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THE MIRACLE ROCK
By Dorothy Thompson
They buried my best friend on September 16, 2001, a day I’ll never forget. This personal tragedy fell into my lap the same week the terrorists destroyed the lives of many Americans on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. Not only was I going through turmoil for my country, but I was grieving also for my friend, who will never see America, the land of the free and the brave, ever again.
The funeral was painful, as funerals often are; but the real pain lay in the story of my miracle rock, which I kept pressed against my bosom. I stood clutching it in my sweaty palm, not wanting to let go. It was my savior that day, as security blankets often are.
As I was a writer, my forte was to be published. I didn’t care what it took; but the thing was, I didn’t know how I was going to even begin to get there.
It wasn’t until I met a very special person, did I realize the dream took a little more than wanting it to happen.
With his encouragement and foresight, he instilled a passion within me to attain my goal. He believed in me and my writing to the point where I believed in me, also.
Although it has been six years since he died, he has continued to guide me and push me to the point where I do not doubt that what I have accomplished today was the result of his insight from the very first day we met.
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Our meeting wasn’t planned. As I was already in a relationship, it was quite unfortunate timing.
I was waiting on tables at the time, and the restaurant was unusually quiet. I seated a man accompanied by his son, took their order and watched as they played hangman on torn up pieces of napkin. Such camaraderie between the two.
A few nights later, the man came back to the restaurant alone. We struck up a conversation, exchanging tales of our sons, the loves of our lives. We also talked about life goals, our children and our respective futures. We talked about journeys we had traveled and journeys yet to take. We talked about dreams we lost, and dreams we had yet to find.
In our conversations we had over a period of time after that, I felt a connection of kindred spirits and a bond that crossed barriers of time. It was hard to explain, actually, and I don’t think either one of us knew where this was going to lead.
Since that first meeting, I have gone on to author relationship books, give soul mate advice and write hundreds of articles about the soul mate experience, and looking back, I know it was because both our spirits connected to a place that neither one of us had realized existed. It was then that I was able to tap onto that knowledge—I call it a gift—of what soul mates are really all about.
I have come to learn that soul mates come in various sizes, shapes and, sometimes, they can come when you least expect it.
In my case, I was already in a relationship; but at the time, I wondered why it was this particular soul mate who I later
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 8 learned was my twin soul, came at a time when I was already committed to another.
However, since then, I have found out why.
All soul mates come into your life for a particular reason. It can be for romantic interests with passion and intimacy. It can also be on a deep friendship basis, and in my twin soul’s case, I know it was to wake up my inner self and to realize my full potential and my future as far as relationships were concerned, as well as where my career was supposed to go. If he had not stepped into my life at the time, I would never have known what the true soul mate experience was all about and live to write about it.
Just like the miracle rock he presented to me before he died, life is full of symbols that have meanings. It is up to you to find these symbols, interpret them as they are meant to be interpreted, learn from it, and use this knowledge and this power to complete your journey toward higher self.
As we go through life with our own miracle rocks, we need to understand that everything that happens to us does so for very, important reasons. Once we understand this, we can take the hard knocks a little easier. Without life’s adversities, we’d be robots. We need the good with the bad to realize our full potential.
A week before my twin soul died, he presented my most important symbol—my miracle rock—to show me that life is full of miracles, and all I would need to do was hold it in my hand and feel the power. This power would give me the strength to handle any road blocks in the way toward finding higher self. It has succeeded in doing that, and all I had to do was believe.
Whether your symbol gives you power or whether it gives you hope that everything will turn out all right, they are
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 9 meant to open your eyes to the power within. Inside each and every one of us exists a sole core of resilience and strength needed to overcome life’s hard knocks and to become the best we can be.
Whether it be as simple as a little blue rock with the word “Miracle” emblazoned across the front, or whether it be that butterfly that flutters across your path or a soft wind whispering in your ear, think of these as signs that have meanings to help you find higher self. Life is full of them. It just takes insight and a belief that your life is worth living, no matter which road your life takes.
*Editor's Note: This story is told in full in Dorothy’s anthology, Romancing the Soul (Zumaya Publications 2004).
About Dorothy Thompson:
Author, PR Coach, and soul mate expert Dorothy Thompson is one of the nation's leading authorities on soul mates. Her book Romancing the Soul and ebook How to Find and Keep Your Soul Mate are two of the most comprehensive guides to explaining what soul mates are really all about. Dorothy's relationship columns have appeared in publications in the U.S. and abroad and she has been quoted in such books as Mean Girls Grown Up: Adult Women Who Are Still Queen Bees, Middle Bees, and Afraid-to-Bees by Cheryl Dellasega. She is a popular radio media guest, appearing on such shows as Lifetime Radio, Single Talk (World Talk Radio), Book Marketing with Fran, Around2It, Cuzin Eddie Show with Penny Sansevieri and 850 KOA-AM (Clear Channel Radio with listeners in 38 states, Canada and Mexico) and other media outlets. She is also the co-author of the paranormal romance, The Search for the Million $$$ Ghost (Mardi Gras Publishing, 2007), and the author of the upcoming relationship book, The Soul Mate Triangle: Unlocking the Mysteries of the Soul Mate Relationship (Zumaya Publications, 2007). You can visit her website at www.dorothythompson.net or her blog at www.overthehillchick.blogspot.com.
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AT LAST
By Sandy Lender
Despite his best efforts to appear nonchalant, Mike feared his turn of the corner looked contrived. Totally planned. Surely the way his jaw dropped whenever he saw Jenni in a new summer dress gave it away. She had to suspect by now.
“Hey, Jen. When d’you get back?” He spoke as if he hadn’t watched her pull into the parking lot behind the dorm.
“Hey. Just now, actually.”
“Yeah, as evidenced by the luggage. Here, let me.”
Ah, as he’d hoped, her 1000-megawatt smile disappeared.
“Thanks, Sweetie.”
He wondered why the smile dimmed so quickly.
“Let me get my mail on the way up,” she said.
Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely” started playing in his head as he watched her move in front of the bank of mailboxes on the wall. They’d known each other so long that neither felt the need to fill the space between them with words. Mike-and-Jen had no need for trite conversation. But he knew something was wrong by the way she held her
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 11 shoulders beneath her brunette curls—not quite bowed or bent, but not as straight and sure as usual. Isn’t she won- der-ful, he sang to himself. He waited until they stepped into the seclusion of the elevator to ask, “So was it his parents?” The knowing smile she cast sidelong at him inspired the harmonica solo to the forefront of his brain. Go, Stevie, go.
“Oh, and don’t you think you know me so well, Mister Baker,” she teased. “No, it wasn’t his parents that have me all moody.” She paused while fiddling with the keys in her hand.
Not a good sign, he thought. She always fidgeted when something really had her upset. If this was just some passing irritation, she’d merely laugh it off, and they’d order pizza and study for finals. No, something “deep” bothered her.
“His old girlfriend showed up.”
“Woah.”
“Yeah. My thoughts exactly.”
They did the “elevator shuffle” as the ancient beast jerked to a stop, and she rolled her eyes. “Well, some things are reliable in my life.”
He paused to let her exit first and resumed his stride beside her. He didn’t have the nerve to point out he had always been reliable in her life. “So did she make trouble before Todd sent her on her way?”
There was that wan smile again and she reached out to punch him in the arm. Not a real punch. She never actually hit him; just teased him, which he found unbearable, really. She just balled up her fist and brought it into contact with
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 12 his arm. He loved it. It was physical contact that said, “If you weren’t my best friend, I’d clobber you right now.”
“Todd didn’t send her on her way. As I believe you’ve pointed out before, he has no spine. He didn’t want to offend her. So I had to endure an evening at the movies with him, his best friend, his past girlfriend, and one of her friends. So I was the fifth wheel while they shared good ol’ stories of the good ol’ days and I sat there wondering what high school they alluded to all night.”
She sighed. “Why don’t men stand up for the women they date? Chivalry isn’t supposed to be dead just because feminism has taken over.”
He wasn’t sure how to answer. Todd was a bona fide loser as far as Mike was concerned—of course, Mike was slightly biased—so there’s no telling what sort of girlfriend he’d managed to attract—and lose—in the past. So there’s no telling what sort of chick had shown up to ruin Jenni’s weekend trolling Todd’s old stomping grounds. He contemplated this while she turned the key in the lock of her dorm room door and pushed the barrier open.
“What’s the heavy sigh for?” he asked.
“Just thankful Lisa’s not here.”
He grinned at her before carting the suitcase to her bed and hoisting it there. “Only two weeks to go and this tour of duty’s over.”
“Thank God. She’s a nice enough gal, but, man, living with Lisa is like living with twenty cheerleaders.”
“You know, that number keeps rising as the semester goes on.”
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She laughed lightly. “Yeah, well, I’m looking forward to moving away from all of them, and not looking forward to the captain of the squad coming back to the room this evening.”
“In all your years at this university, you’ve had no luck with roommates. Come back to my place. I’ll fix ya dinner.”
“Dude, you’re so on. I can’t think of anything better right now than someone else just taking over for the evening.” He pressed her back out into the hall so he could close the door, took her keys to lock it, and led her toward the stairwell. “Surely the whole weekend wasn’t that bad.” “You have no idea.”
“Well tell me something good that came out of it.”
She snorted a sort of laugh at that. “Oh, God. Something good? The only good thing is tainted by all the bad things.” “Gee, only one good thing?” He opened the stairwell door, loving the fact that her shoulder brushed his chest as she moved past. “Didn’t he at least feed you chocolate at some point?”
“Chocolate. Yeah, I think there was chocolate at some point. The only good thing is he finally proposed.”
Mike nearly fell down the stairs.
Okay, just stay calm, he told himself. If she was excited about the proposal, if she’d already accepted it, she would have bounded into the dorm shouting it from the rafters. This isn’t something she’s excited about. Something has to be wrong here.
His internal monologue continued all the way to the corvette at the back of the commuter parking lot, all the way to his two-bedroom house about a mile from campus, all the way
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 14 to the front door where she finally interrupted it. “Babe, you’re mad at me over this, aren’t you?”
“What? No! No, I’m not mad at you. Over what? What would I get mad at you about? Disliking your roommate? Jen, they assign your roommates. You can’t help that Lisa turned out to be a freak—”
She reached out with that oh-so-familiar punch again. “Dork. You know what I mean. Todd’s proposal. You’re thinking that if I marry this loser it’s going to change everything.”
He moved a cello out of the middle of the living room floor into the spare bedroom before joining her next to the piano she stared at blankly. “And now who’s psychoanalyzing who?” he asked.
She seemed to pull herself out of a different train of thought that the piano had inspired, and turned to him. “Hm? Oh, yeah, but I know you well enough to know you’re also dodging my question. And I’m not going to let you.”
He pointed toward the kitchen so she’d move while she spoke.
“If I get married, it doesn’t mean I’m going to instantly cut myself off from all my friends, you know.”
He fixed on the first part of that sentence—If I get married— so he didn’t hear her continue as he led her past music stands and shelves of sheet music lining the dining area. “Well, I might tell Lisa that I’m cut off from my friends so I don’t have to deal with her again, but, you know what I mean. Hey! Are you even listening?”
He glanced back at her from the refrigerator, hoping the look on her face didn’t mean what it always meant—that she
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 15 was analyzing his silence on the current subject. “Yeah, I’m listening. You want lasagna? I’ve got all the stuff for it.” He knew she’d say yes.
“That sounds fantastic.”
Extra cheese, he thought.
“With extra cheese.”
“Like a Stephen Sommers movie, Baby,” he said. He was pleased to hear her giggle over that.
“That would be extra cheesy. Don’t tell me you picked up Van Helsing while I was gone.”
“I did.”
“Can we watch it!?”
“No, I thought I’d just tease you about it.”
When he looked back at her, she had already hopped into the front room again, and he took advantage of the moment to lean against the counter to regain his sense of equilibrium. Okay, so she hasn’t accepted Idiot Boy’s proposal—or has she? I have to ask how she responded. God, I have to know.
He stepped toward the hall to look into the living room where she stood before the plasma screen TV. In her hand she held the Van Helsing DVD he’d bought over the weekend. Isn’t she won-der-ful? He wondered briefly why she ran her hand over the top of the screen. She had that look about her again—that look he’d just seen as she’d stared at the piano. She looked as if she weighed some deep question. Well, yeah, some deep question, he thought. She’s tryin’ to figure out if she’s going to chain herself to this
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 16 freakin’ loser for the rest of her life. Maybe that’s what my thesis should have been. Instead of writing a symphony about the most beautiful woman in the world, I should have written about the death of love.
Shaking his head at his own stupid musings, he returned to digging ingredients out of the fridge until he heard her footstep in the kitchen behind him.
“Mike, umm…why didn’t you go to Julliard?”
“Hm? Julliard?” Strange turn of topic, he thought, considering we’re about to present our masters projects here. “Really expensive school.”
“Expensive? You drive a corvette. You own this house and plan to rent it out after graduation. You’ve got a baby grand, a Strat cello, a sax that half the musicians in New Orleans would kill you for. I don’t think Julliard would have been a stretch. Why didn’t you go to Julliard?” She had his undivided attention, and not just because she was demanding a straight answer, but because she had advanced to block his retreat to the dining room. She had him practically pinned against the refrigerator, those typically pleasant blue eyes flashing with demand. Both hands were on her hips. Whatever she’d been thinking about in the living room had led to this line of questioning, and she was going to force an answer. Crap.
“Julliard is a long way from home and very expensive. I’m leaving here with a masters in music education but no debt next month. So are you. That’s quite an incentive.”
She furrowed her brow. “In eighteen years, I don’t think you’ve ever lied to me before now.”
“Nineteen,” he corrected.
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“What?”
“Nineteen years. We actually met the summer before kindergarten. Remember the kid who saved you from the earthworms?”
She stared at him incredulously, and he felt the overwhelming desire to touch her. She sputtered some sort of laugh. “The earthworms? Oh my God. That was you? You kicked that boy in the nuts? How did you know, at that age, that he’d stop throwing worms on me if you kicked him in the balls?”
“Uhh, I think it’s instinct in boys.”
She laughed. “Oh my God. So we’ve known each other nineteen years?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him then, and he imagined he could see her mind tossing all the implications. He liked the idea that she could be replaying all the good scenes, all the good times, all the daring rescues like the earthworm incident, and he hoped she was about to come to the very good realization that he was the reliable force in her life.
She blushed slightly, which he thought was odd.
“So, ah, I guess you wouldn’t be too thrilled if I accepted Todd’s proposal?”
He got bold. “I think it would be a mistake.”
He wondered why she still blushed. Jenni didn’t usually blush about things. But, then, Jenni didn’t usually place her hands on his chest and lean up to kiss him. As her lips met his, he felt a certainty in his mind fold over him like velvet, covering
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him in comfort. Yes, he’d made the right decisions over the years, and he finally held his future in his arms. Stevie Wonder gave way in his mind, and the sultry voice of Ella Fitzgerald floated in on a wing. At last my love has come along.
About Sandy Lender:
Sandy Lender began writing stories as soon as she learned to string words together on the page. As a child, she entertained the folks in her great grandmother’s apartment building in Southern Illinois with tales of squeaky spiders and mice picking berries, and then won awards with short stories and writing projects as she moved through the elementary and high school systems in the St. Louis area. It was apparent that a career in journalism was her calling, and she found herself proofreading, editing, and (finally) writing in trade publications after she graduated from Truman State University in Missouri. Now she writes in Southwest Florida where her love of sea turtles and all things related to the ocean waters keeps her imagination growing. Her fantasy novel Choices Meant for Gods is available from Archebooks Publishing in March 2007. You can get information about grammar and writing from her blog at www.todaythedragonwins.blogspot.com.
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MEETING THE MAN OF MY DREAMS
By Abigail Farrier
Back when I lived at the outskirts of Arcana City, I had the pleasure of meeting the most incredible man in the world. Now, that may seem a loaded statement at first. Plenty of ladies—girlfriends, mistresses, wives, etc.—view their significant other with such high regard, but this man has a certain je ne sais quoi about him that sets all other men to shame. His name is Nigel Taiman, and I met him in the most innocent of ways.
One afternoon, when I was a young and impressionable eighteen years of age, I happened to be in town with Father and Gellaina, my sister, seeking out the dressmaker’s shop. Now, Father couldn’t afford to buy us store-made dresses— don’t let me put on any airs here—but I had saved up some coins and planned to buy some ribbon to add to a gown I planned to wear to the summer festival. As I reached for the door to the shop, a gentleman reached the bar first and opened the door for me. I looked up into the most handsome face I’d ever seen.
I don’t think there are words to describe the depths of brown of Nigel’s eyes.
I knew who he was. Everyone in Arcana City knew the Taimans. They owned the estate to the south of the city. It’s the estate the city is named after. He was the heir and the wealthiest man I’d ever met.
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But I didn’t get to speak to him at that moment. I was too awestruck! Like a silly schoolgirl, I merely went on into the dress shop and let the man of my dreams walk on to Jonas Miller’s livery down the lane. That just wouldn’t do! Dear reader, I must tell you, that day, I became a bold young lady. Never before had I been so brave as to go up and introduce myself to a man, but I couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. I’d just seen the man I was to marry. I’d just seen the man who was to be the foundation and fortress for my future. I had to let him know who I was!
So I finished my business with the shopkeeper quickly and went straight to the livery where Mister Taiman was still speaking with Mister Miller. (Thank the gods for their favor.) I entered the store boldly, but as soon as his gaze fell upon me, I felt my knees go weak. I didn’t know if my legs would hold me up long enough to walk across the floor to greet him. But I had decided to be bold—and bold I was. I walked up to him and said, “Excuse me, Mister Taiman?”
“Yes,” he responded, and he looked puzzled for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure why a complete stranger had just walked up to him. I think he could tell I was nervous. He looked at my hands, which I wrung together like a foolish child, and then he looked at my eyes. He looked me full in the eyes, and smiled. Oh, how my heart soared at that simple, kind gesture. What a beacon such a smile is. How many people in the world get to know the fortitude of a loved one’s smile, the power in a loved one’s smile? I felt it then.
“My name is Abigail Farrier,” I said to him.
This perfect gentleman’s smile softened so kindly then, and he took my hand in his, the touch sending an excitement up my arm and throughout my body like a bolt of lightning in a
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 21 summer storm. I feared he would be able to feel me tremble!
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.
And then! Horror of all horrors! Father was in the store! How he burst in without me hearing the door open, I’ll never know, but the sound of his voice, loud, full, baritone, filling my head, caused me to jump. “Abigail! Get back to the wagon. Right now.”
I’m sure my face turned every shade of red under the suns. I know I was terribly embarrassed, not just because I’d been caught introducing myself to a man, but because Nigel Taiman should hear my father berating me, treating me like a child here in front of him. I dropped my eyes from his, eager to run from this scene. But Nigel tightened his grip on my hand. I felt his agitation through that hold, and I looked up at him again. There was a darkness behind Nigel’s eyes that I knew was directed at my father, even though he didn’t break his gaze from mine. And then he winked at me. He winked at me! As if we’d known each other for years! (And, perhaps our souls truly had…)
“I’m always pleased to help a lady find the correct time,” he said, just loudly enough that my father could hear this contrived excuse.
And then, oh, Reader, if you can believe it, he lifted my hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of my fingers as if I were some high-society lady visiting him at the Arcanan estate to the south of the city. By the gods, I wished I didn’t have my gloves on at that moment! What treasures I would have given up to have those satiny lips touch my skin directly. But the mild pressure alone was enough to set every sense in my body alight with fire. I couldn’t believe his audacity! But, when you meet your true
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 22 love, audacity and caution must be thrown to the wind. You must go with your instincts.
Father was livid.
He moved our family away from Arcana City merely a month later, and made it quite clear to me that the purpose was to get me away from the foul influence of the Taiman family. My heart broke and I wept the tears of a forlorn lover for years to come. What can one do when one is stripped of true love? What can one do when one has seen perfection and grace walking among the rest of us mortals…and then has been removed from that portrait?
I know that some day I will be able to return to Arcana. I will return to my love…
About Abigail Farrier:
Abigail Farrier is an excitable young lady who used to live on the outskirts of Arcana City. Her flights of fancy led her to write some extremely flowery love letters to a certain Mister Nigel Taiman, who never got the chance to point her in another direction before her father moved her family to another continent. Now she lives in Bellan and posts contents from the diary of her travels at http://AbigailLovesNigel.com. You can learn more about her and the fabulous Nigel Taiman in the fantasy novel Choices Meant for Gods, by Sandy Lender, this March when it is released from ArcheBooks Publishing.
*Editor’s Note: While Abigail Farrier is a fictional character in the book, Choices Meant for Gods, she insisted on Sandy including her in our love story eBook. We couldn’t turn her down.
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TO LOVE A SEA CAPTAIN
By Hattie Jenkins
Somewhere, in the half-light of dusk, lovers walk this shore hand in hand. And the sigh of the tide as it slips out is soothing to them. They often smile. I wonder if they listen to each other the way we did; as if every word held deep meaning. And when the tide swirls back in with its rushing noise, one of them skips briskly up the sand a ways, lifting her hands filled with skirts and seashells as if there were any danger of the water reaching above her ankles.
The older couples don’t act that way. They walk with a quieter grace, the way I imagine we will in our old age. These people often smile as well, the edges of their lips turning up like parchment scrolls beaten by weather and the salt of the sea. Their eyes may be dimmed by the bleaching of too many suns, but they have a brightness in them that only comes from ageless love. I so look forward to sharing that look with you, my captain.
Then there are the children, let out after a day of imprisonment in the schoolroom, whooping and hollering and chasing the tide’s spray. The children smile, too. Even the ones who know they should be home doing their chores grin and gallop like horses through the surf because they love. They love their freedom and their carefree, untroubled days. They spring about the feet of parents or playmates or pet dogs weighed down by a bath in the froth of the ocean.
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What a strange beast is this ocean. How calm and gentle it is most evenings when the children and grandparents and lovers are here playing on its shore. How generous and bountiful it is most evenings when the fishermen return from a day’s work gathering food for our city and storehouses. Yet how changeful and cruel it is on days when it should bring back our loved ones, tired from a long journey through her tempest.
I watch the dances and displays of the ones who love, waiting for your ship to return. They slowly make their way up the shore toward their homes as the suns melt into the ocean’s horizon, one after the other. And your son and I make our way home as well. I so look forward to sharing these evenings with you again, my captain.
About Hattie Jenkins:
Hattie Jenkins grew up in Arcana City with no presumptions of marrying any wealthy suitors. But Captain Henry Bakerson caught her eye early on. You can read about the adventures of Hattie’s captain in the novel Choices Meant for Gods by Sandy Lender, available from ArcheBooks Publishing this spring. Sandy’s blog is at www.todaythedragonwins.blogspot.com.
*Editor’s Note: While Hattie Jenkins is a fictional character in the book, Choices Meant for Gods, she insisted on Sandy including her in our love story eBook. We couldn’t turn her down, either. ;o)
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HER BLUE EYES IN THE RAIN
By Gale Sparks
I was sitting at the exit of the Sears store after picking up a new mail order sleeping bag when I saw a phenomenon. A motorcycle flew down the street with a pair of three-foot braided pigtails flying out from under the rider’s helmet.
I couldn’t find a break in traffic as I stood as high as possible to watch as she disappeared among the stream of cars. The traffic that separated us finally halted at the light, and one of the drivers was courteous enough to leave an open place for me to merge. What I imagine he didn’t expect was for me to pull out, easing my bike onto the white broken line that divided the traffic, and crank down on the throttle. The bike just slightly pulled the front wheel off the ground as I divided the two lines of traffic until I was waiting under the red light.
I stared at it, revving up the bike and watching for the light to turn yellow on the crossing traffic’s side. As the light turned yellow, I revved the bike one last time. When our light turned green, I flipped my hand loose from the clutch as the engine wound out, pulling one more wheel stand.
When I was nearly a block ahead of the traffic, I switched lanes and glanced at the speedometer. The needle was nearly touching the 70 MPH mark.
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A thought quickly flashed through my mind. “What if I don’t catch the girl, and there’s a cop sitting at one of the small cross streets?”
The idea quickly vanished when I saw I had caught up with the group of traffic that had my blonde-haired biker hidden within it.
I joined the rear of the traffic while it sat at the light, slowly edging the bike down the white lines that divided the cars. Occasionally, where space allowed, I would duck into a lane and peer ahead.
I continued this duck-and-run maneuver until I saw the light turn green. As I stood on the pegs of my bike trying to keep balance, I glimpsed her turning left at the light.
Cutting in front of a car, while on a bike is not recommended.
I cut the car behind me off by inches making the left turn in time to see the pigtails fall down across her back as she slowed to make a right into a park.
I pulled abreast of her as I entered the park; the car horns still blaring in the background. My palms were sweaty, making the task of holding the throttle at a steady idle no simple task. We continued to look at each other as we crept along through the park at the enforced 15 MPH speed limit. When we were nearly halfway through the park, we finally came to a pull-off where people often parked to walk.
A cold chill ran down my spine as I saw her right flasher start blinking on the fork of her bike as she pulled off the street. I slowed, barely keeping the bike balanced. First impressions just aren’t good if you flip your bike in front of the chick.
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I pulled over, and after our awkward introductions and stuttered small talk, I asked her if she wanted to keep riding for awhile and maybe get something to eat later. With a nervous and shy smile, she nodded as she flipped down her face shield and pulled out.
We took off into the night and became inseparable for the next three weeks. Our friendship had gotten to the point that when quitting time at work finally came each day, I was clock-watching just to get out. I loved every minute that we had together.
Even with the pure joy of the girl’s advances, I could feel the mountains of Oklahoma beckoning. She was beautiful. Once we had broken through her shyness, we developed a full-blown relationship. But, the west still seemed to carry a siren’s call.
After being together every night, I finally mustered the courage to tell her of my plans to head west. As we sat across from each other at the rear booth of a McDonalds sipping milkshakes, I explained I was leaving the following Saturday morning for a cowboy job in Oklahoma.
I thought I had dropped enough hints over the time we had been together about my love of the west that she would realize that one of these days, I would be leaving.
Her head down low, sipping on the shake, she refused to look up. When I told her I was leaving in two days on a Greyhound, a single teardrop fell and hit the table. I told her my ticket was for eight o’clock that Saturday morning.
She took a napkin, dabbed at her mouth, and wiped her eyes.
I sat there, steeled. I loved the cowboy life, and as I looked into the red eyes across the table, I knew I had to hold
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 28 firm. I was going back to Oklahoma. There simply wasn’t anything going to stand in my path, not even the beautiful blue eyes and waist-length golden hair that sat across from me.
After the awkward silence, we walked out to our motorcycles. As I went to kiss her goodnight, she slid her helmet over her face, blocking my shot.
Before she fired up her bike, she said, “I’m busy tomorrow night.” And, she left.
I stood there, alone in the parking lot next to my bike, completely numb. I really don’t know what I expected. I didn’t think of the three weeks that she had invested in this relationship, not realizing I was leaving. Finally, a feeling of guilt sank in as I straddled my bike, and having my heart feel the slight twinge of heaviness on the ride home.
The next night after I had gotten off from work, I tore home and called her house. Her mother coolly said she wasn’t home and had no idea when she would be back. I tried most of the night, letting the phone ring four times before I hung up.
Finally near eleven o’clock, she answered.
I apologized for leading her on and didn’t ask what she was doing. Mentally, I wanted to think she was sitting home counting the times I called. I knew I didn’t have the right to ask. We finally agreed to meet the next time for one final night together.
The next day was a Friday, and payday. I knew I was going to need most of this check for my expenses. But, still I decided the only decent thing to do for someone as special as she would be to take her to a nice place for our final meal together.
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We met at a small Italian restaurant that was nearly halfway between our homes. The one thing that I learned about our relationship was that we both loved pizza. I’d never taken her there before mainly because I was too tight with money. When I arrived, she was already there, dressed like I had never seen her dressed in the three weeks since I met her.
I looked in amazement as she slung her left leg over the bike, and stood in front of me, her braids gone and replaced with long beautiful golden hair slightly wind-tousled and lying slightly on her hips.
She wore a pair of the sexiest tan suede hot pants I’d ever seen, along with a peasant blouse, not too low slung and just enough to tease a man but still high enough to be considered respectable.
I stood there speechless.
I continued to tell myself the night didn’t matter as we ate. We talked a little until she asked me to describe Oklahoma. From that point on, I dominated the conversation.
She merely nodded through most of it, staring into my eyes over the flickering red globe that held a tea light in the middle of our table.
After finishing the pizza, we managed to dawdle as long as possible. When the manager began cutting us looks through the serving window, I took it as my hint to take my date outside.
We held hands as I walked her across the parking lot to the bikes. After one of the longest and most wanting kisses I’ll ever remember, she climbed on her bike and fired it up.
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Before she left, she simply said that she was taking me to the bus station, and rode off.
It was a sleepless night with thoughts of riding horseback in the mountains of Oklahoma, and of riding my bike with her through the rest of the summer.
The next day, I was sipping my second cup of coffee when I heard her pull into the drive. I tossed the dregs from the cup into the sink and quietly stepped out into the garage. It had been drizzling all night and was still raining when I stepped outside. I don’t know if the chill I felt was from the rain or the unknown of climbing in her car.
I threw my duffel over my shoulder, and bent to slip my saddle across my forearm, and then grab a gym bag that held my bull rope and spurs, with my free hand. I walked over to her old Chevy and opened the back door, slinging my gear into the back seat.
I opened the front door and sat down next to her. Without saying a word, she turned her head and her eyes briefly touched mine, before backing out of the drive.
With remorse building, I would occasionally catch a sideways glance in her direction. All I could really see was her chewing her bottom lip.
I was speechless. This was about as awkward a situation as I had ever been in during the nineteen years of my life. I had never heard of the girl you were dumping driving you anywhere. Anywhere.
We rode the rest of the way to the station in silence.
The bus pulled up, and I silently took my gear from the rear seat and handed it to the driver who was stashing the luggage in the underbelly of the bus, as she stood off to the
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 31 side of the walk. If it hadn’t been for the heavy emotions of the situation, I would have laughed at the look the driver gave me as I handed him my saddle.
We stood there silently holding hands as the driver slammed the door on the storage compartment. I couldn’t look her directly in the eyes.
As the driver climbed the steps, I told her I had to get aboard, letting loose of her hands.
We kissed, nothing like the night before, but a loving kiss never the less. I felt my heart string a tear a bit deeper when I tasted the salty lips from the tears that must have fallen from her silent cries at the station.
To this day, I have no idea how I climbed aboard that bus.
After I took a window seat, I looked down. She was already looking up into the window where I sat. I began to feel guilt, and possibly selfishness as I looked down into her tearful eyes.
The drizzling rain coming down harder, I watched as the rain fell on her forehead and ran down her face, mixing with her tears. When the bus pulled away from the curb, our eyes finally broke contact, and I didn’t look back.
In my mind, I thought, “Thank God we’re on the road,” but my heart was saying something different.
We had gotten one hundred and sixteen miles from home before arriving at the next stop. When the driver opened the storage bin and began to remove the luggage of the passenger’s that were getting off at this stop, my heart won the tug of war.
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I asked the driver if he could pull my gear from the back where he had so carefully stacked it. While reaching around the other luggage, he mentioned there were no refunds and no return trips until late that afternoon, and tossed my things on the gravel parking lot.
Across from the bus station sat a greasy spoon truck stop. I hitched up my load and walked across the road and sat down on my saddle. I waited and waited. A truck driver finally came out of the diner and climbed into a semi that was pointed back the direction of my crying blue eyes.
“How far north are you going?” he asked.
“As far as you can take me,” I replied.
He helped me store my gear in the sleeper cab of his truck without anymore questions. It was a mere ten minutes before I began telling him where I had been headed originally and why.
When I finished this part of the story, he looked over at me, raised an eyebrow, then turned to look ahead northbound. He didn’t say a word, and didn’t need to. I knew what he was saying without him saying a word: why I was headed the way I had just come.
I began at the beginning, telling him about the girl I’d met, our relationship, and how I had left her back at the bus stop crying in the rain. I still can’t be sure, but I thought I saw the truck driver fake a move like he was picking his nose as he wiped away a tear. He then pulled the semi over at a truck stop near the outskirts of my hometown.
As he helped unload my gear, he simply said, “I knew your story had to have a girl in there somewhere.”
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I hitchhiked through town back to the bus depot as I thought I might look a little less desperate if I called her from the station as if I had taken another bus back. Picking up the receiver of the pay phone, a lump hung in my throat and threatened to bless me with a squeaky unmanly voice. I sat the receiver back in its cradle and sat down across from my gear, trying to gather my “cowboy composure” before attempting the call again.
After sitting with my head hung low, the brim of my old cowboy hat touching my legs, I gathered my feelings, and finally felt strong enough to make the call.
I dialed again, and when she answered, all I could manage to say was, “I’m back. Can you come get me?”
I could hear the joy she honestly felt for me before she hung up. All I could do was stand there, dumb-struck. She wasn’t mad; she was actually anxious to come and pick me up. But, she didn’t ask where I was.
The rain had stopped, and the skies were blue. I carried my gear outside, and leaned against the wall of the station. Sitting in the seat of my saddle, my hat tilted over my brow, I leaned back not knowing if I was going to be picked up or be sitting for awhile.
Twenty minutes later, I heard a car pull up to the curb. Knowing that she couldn’t have gotten there that fast, I knew it couldn’t be her, so I didn’t bother to look up.
“Do you want a ride or is that saddle so comfy you’ve decided to stay there?”
My knees buckled as I slid from the saddle and fell on the sidewalk.
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She stood directly in front of me. Smiling. More tears fell as she gave me her hand to help me stand.
We were married three months later and have now been married for thirty-three years. To this day, I can’t bear to hear Willie Nelson singing, “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain,” without an occasional renegade tear, and lump in the throat.
About Gale Sparks:
Gale Sparks began his unusual quest the day after graduating from high school by moving to southeast Oklahoma and becoming a cowboy. After spending nearly two years living in a line shack in the Kiamichi Mountains, he became accustomed to a rough, minimal lifestyle. Working daily as a cowboy on the ranch, he also became involved in bull riding on the rodeo circuit during the weekends.
He spent the last thirty plus years of his life hiking, hunting, and fishing in forty-four of the lower forty-eight states. He has found that he is perfectly at home in a tent in some of the mangiest bear camps in Maine or the redneck haven of the wild hog camps of the Okeefenokee Swamp of Georgia.
After enduring his fifth total hip replacement by the age of forty-nine (three on the left side), he was forced to retire from his life of adventure and take a more traveled path, but another adventure nonetheless. After ditching the college route for thirty-two years, he enrolled in a local community college, where he graduated with a 3.8 GPA with an Associate of Arts degree. After having many of his short stories published in the college paper as well as the schools bi-annual publication The Distillery.
The quest for a Bachelors degree appeared to be within grasp as he was accepted at The University of the South. While attending the university it was discovered that he was just as comfortable in a lecture hall discussing philosophy as, in the hunting camps. Unfortunately during the first semester of attending the university he was forced to withdraw due to an increasing problem with emphysema.
You can visit his website at www.freewebs.com/pappagale/.
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THE 3 SIGNS TO LOOK FOR IN A SOUL MATE
By Dorothy Thompson
I’m always dumbfounded when someone walks up to me and declares that they either have not found their soul mate or says, “There are no soul mates out there for me.”
Obviously, they don’t know how to look for the signs or how to read them once they do find them. There are millions, maybe even trillions, of people in the world who have soul mates, and there are signs within these soul mate relationships which could help you find yours. I am going to explain what they are so that you will find your soul mate(s), too.
Sign #1: Spiritual intuition
You see a nice looking fellow standing in line at the grocery store who has such spark and charisma and you wonder what it is about him that catches your attention. Is it his appearance? His charm? His funny way of cocking his head while conversing with the cashier?
You want to learn more about him. You have this pull towards him, yet you do nothing. You leaf through a magazine, appearing to be invisible, yet you yearn to walk right up to the stranger and introduce yourself. By the time
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 36 you have found the nerve, he has checked out and is on his way to his car (and out of your life!).
What was that, you wonder?
That was one of your soul mates that you just let get away.
How do I know that?
Spiritual intuition is the number one sign to look for when confronting a possible soul mate. It is your inner self bonding with the spiritual insides of another. The bond is invisible, yet it lies deep within you and cannot be mistaken. It is that strong pull you feel towards another. Unfortunately, if you don’t take action when this happens, you will let your possible soul mate get away and you will have destroyed what could have been a long, happy relationship.
Sign #2: Positive karma
Janice works long hours at the newspaper office after the breakup of her long eighteen-year marriage to Matt, an abusive alcoholic who didn’t have anything better to do than knock Janice and their three kids around when he was on his drinking sprees.
To ease the pain, she works constantly, keeping her mind off her past and providing a comfortable living for her and her three children. She has succeeded in getting rid of the negativity in her life and is working on the positive.
Mark, also divorced, can be found working alongside her most days, trying to make deadlines and shielding himself from the memories of his own troubled marriage.
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Neither dates, but feels comfortable in maintaining a friendly relationship with one another in the safety of their work environment.
Is this a soul mate union bound to happen?
Both are emitting positive karma towards the other and, yes, a soul mate bond is, most definitely, in the future. This is an example of the karmic soul mate relationship. All signs look good towards it becoming more, but meanwhile what they have is one of the richest relationships you could ask for.
Friends—close friends—are one of the most important of the soul mate relationships out there. This is the bond that ties two perfectly ordinary people together with no strings attached. What other kind of relationship allows you to do what you want, when you want, with no questions asked?
Will this relationship turn into something more? It is very possible that, over time, once everyone has healed from past relationships, Janice and Mark will find out that being friends is the first requisite to finding lifelong commitment, if that is what they are both looking for. Only time will tell, but don’t ignore these close relationships. They are necessary for your happiness, well-being, and your search for self- fulfillment.
Sign #3: Being in the right place at the right time
They say timing is everything and it couldn’t be truer than for the soul mate relationship.
Melissa was a college student studying for her law degree, something she wanted more than life itself.
Jeff was a student at the same college aiming for a degree in anthropology that was taking too long to acquire, in his
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 38 opinion, but he was determined he was going to have that piece of paper if it took a lifetime to acquire.
While both took classes at the same school, they would frequently find themselves at the same social functions and parties. While there was an evident spark whenever the two were around each other, both had their hearts set on their own goals of finishing college and starting with their career plans before settling into cozy relationships. In essence, they were still looking for their own self-fulfillment before they could be available to fulfill others.
Five years after Melissa graduated and was comfortably situated into her own practice, she had the surprise of her life when Jeff happened to walk into her law office asking for advice. Imagine his surprise when he found out this was the same Melissa that he had a secret crush on all those years!
I’m happy to report that Melissa and Jeff picked up right where they left off, as if time had never passed. Next June, there will be a formal wedding and a reception held at the same college where they both met.
Sometimes you have to remember that even though your potential soul mate might cross your path at some point in time, there may be extenuating circumstances which will prevent the union from happening, but when the time is right and everything falls into place, it will happen. Patience is a virtue and when the signs all point to go, nothing can be more fulfilling than the soul mate relationship.
About Dorothy Thompson
Author, PR Coach, and soul mate expert Dorothy Thompson is one of the nation's leading authorities on soul mates. Her book Romancing the Soul and ebook How to Find and Keep Your Soul Mate are two of the most comprehensive guides to explaining what soul mates are really all about. Dorothy's relationship columns have appeared in
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 39 publications in the U.S. and abroad and she has been quoted in such books as Mean Girls Grown Up: Adult Women Who Are Still Queen Bees, Middle Bees, and Afraid-to-Bees by Cheryl Dellasega. She is a popular radio media guest, appearing on such shows as Lifetime Radio, Single Talk (World Talk Radio), Book Marketing with Fran, Around2It, Cuzin Eddie Show with Penny Sansevieri and 850 KOA-AM (Clear Channel Radio with listeners in 38 states, Canada and Mexico) and other media outlets. She is also the co-author of the paranormal romance, The Search for the Million $$$ Ghost (Mardi Gras Publishing, 2007), and the author of the upcoming relationship book, The Soul Mate Triangle: Unlocking the Mysteries of the Soul Mate Relationship (Zumaya Publications, 2007). You can visit her website at www.dorothythompson.net or her blog at www.overthehillchick.blogspot.com.
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DAD’S TIPS ON LOVE AND MARRIAGE (5 Answers to Those Questions a Woman Asks in Marriage)
By Rebecca Camarena
As my wedding day approached and I thought of Melissa, my bride to be, I was still uncertain as to how to make the marriage work. I figured if my parents could make it through 40 years of marriage that maybe I should ask dad for his success secrets. I thought this would merit more than a phone call, so, taking a break from writing my latest book, I drove the 15 minutes to my parent's house. As I pulled in their driveway I noticed both cars sitting there. Mom had already spotted me and was waving from the front porch. Too late to turnaround and go home, I thought nervously.
"Hi mom, how are you doing?" I said, giving her a hug. "Where's dad?"
"Oh, in the garage," she smiled. "Are you here for dinner?"
"Not sure. It depends on how my conversation with dad goes," I said as I walked through the kitchen and into the backyard.
I found Dad in the garage working on his latest project from Mom's mile-long list. He was putting the final stain coating on a wood shelf.
"Hey, Dad, how are you?"
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"Hi, John, what brings you here?" he said, his eyes never leaving his work.
"I need to ask something," I stuttered, feeling as scared as when I used to get in trouble as a kid.
He put the paint brush down and turned toward me. “Spit it out. What do you need?”
Here goes nothing, I thought. "Dad, did you ever imagine being married for 40 years?”
He cleared his throat and said, “John, on our wedding day, I was a scared kid standing in that church, even though I was 31, and if someone would have told me that I would be married to your mother for 40 years, I would have run from the church and never looked back. I didn’t have the slightest clue as to what I was doing.”
"Is there a secret to a happy marriage?" I asked.
Dad laughed and replied, “If you find it, let me know.”
This is going well, I thought sarcastically.
After a long pause, he told me to sit, offering me the bar stool he kept in the garage. Before he sat down, he pulled out two beers from his little refrigerator and handed one to me.
"Thanks," I said.
Dad took a swallow of beer and said, "There’s no secret to a happy marriage. You take it one day at a time, but it’s the way you answer those five questions your wife will ask that may keep you from spending the night on the couch."
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“How was dinner?” is one. Always compliment your wife’s cooking even if you hated the meal. Otherwise, you might have to learn how to cook. And with everything else on her ‘Honey-Do List’, you don’t want to add cooking. Besides, she may decide not to cook that recipe again.
"'Who do you think the children look like?' is another. Trust me on this one; it's the biggest trap of all. When asked by relatives or friends who the children look like, always reply that they look like their beautiful mother even if you think she could get questioned by the police for taking someone else's kid. If you tell people otherwise, your wife will hear about it and will wonder how you could say that the children don't look like her."
Dad took another swallow of beer and said, "Are you with me so far?"
I could only nod in response not believing what I was hearing.
"Ok, next question your wife will ask is 'How does my hair look?' Women are very sensitive about their looks so remember your wife is always beautiful, no matter how awful her hair looks after that botched job at the beauty shop. Hair grows really fast and by then she might decide to try a different hairstyle. Otherwise, you can suggest that she try hats to keep her hair from being damaged by the harsh rays of the sun."
Taking his last swallow of beer, he threw the bottle into the recycling bin and reached for another one. “Want another one?”
“No, I’m good here.”
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Dad continued with his next two points. I couldn’t believe I was hearing all this from a father who never put much effort into words.
“Another one is ‘Can you tell that I’ve gained a few pounds?’ Just tell her she looks sexier than ever and then ask her what she’s doing after the lights go out. If she keeps gaining those few pounds, suggest lovely walks at night under the stars and moon.
“When she asks, ‘What are you doing?’ your wife is not really interested in what you’re doing. With this question, she’s asking if you’re free to help her with something. Always reply, ‘I’m not doing anything right now,’ even if you’re in the middle of the best football game in television history. Everything else can wait, but it’s the greatest deed a husband can do for his wife and that is to be there for her.”
“Hey, I hope this helps,” he said, standing up from the stool as he heard my mom calling for him. With a look back before he left the garage, he said, “John, at the end of each day, tell your wife that you love her.”
Wow! I knew from those answers that Dad gave me that the one true love of his was his wife of 40 years, my mom.
As I watched Dad walk back to the house and Mom holding the door open for him, getting married didn't seem so scary anymore.
About Rebecca Camarena:
Rebecca Camarena has written for local community newspapers and her articles include news-features, profiles, community events, theatrical and musical reviews. Some of the people interviewed for these articles include Sam Yorty, the former Mayor of Los Angeles in the 1960’s and Elizabeth Waldo, composer, violinist, songwriter and
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She is the editor for the North Hollywood High School Alumni Newsletter. Most recently, she has added e-book writing to her successes and was published in the Writersville Christmas e-book. She is a member of the California Writers Club.
Born and raised in the San Fernando Valley in Southern California girl she was a valley girl long before “Valley Girls” became popular in the 1980’s. She enjoys the outdoors with her husband and three children, two dogs and cat. You can visit her blog at http://rebecca2007.wordpress.com/.
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IS HE MY SOUL MATE…OR NOT?
By Dorothy Thompson
Defining the soul mate relationship as opposed to any other kind of relationship is not so hard once you understand what soul mates are all about. So few people really know how to go about doing this, but it’s not as difficult as it seems.
I had a client not too long ago tell me that she had been with a man for a long time and that she was positive she was totally in love with him—and not lust love—and that she didn’t know how to tell if he was her soul mate and if he felt the same. She wanted to know how she could tell, which is one of the more common questions I hear.
“I’m in love, but is it the real thing?”
The real thing. Just what is the real thing and how can you tell?
First of all, if you are in love with someone, he/she is your soul mate, but just as there are varying degrees of love, there are varying kinds of soul mates. It sounded to me like in this woman’s case, it was the companion soul mate to whom she was referring.
All companion soul mates, unless they choose not to for various reasons, involve intimacy on different levels. The other two kinds of soul mates—karmic soul mates and twin souls—rarely involve sexual relations. Hard to believe, but it’s true.
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As with all companion soul mates, these people come into your life for a particular reason. Is it for marriage? Is it to produce offspring?
Only you can determine that as the relationship gets further along, but one thing is for sure: he or she is meant to be a part of your life. No two soul mates come together without a purpose. That is how you can differentiate acquaintances you meet in your daily life from people with whom you share a soul mate bond.
If you are in love, you are in love. You feel it, it makes you happy and fulfilled and you want to spend the rest of your life with this person. A natural thing to happen to two people who are soul mates.
However, if further down the road, the two soul mates should part because of differences, that soul mate was still meant to come into your life.
When two people come together as soul mates, there is a purpose for them to do so; but when that purpose has been realized as well as finalized, the two may part but that is not because they weren’t meant to be a part of each other’s lives.
It is because their mission together on earth has been accomplished.
When this happens, the two begin to feel as if they are drifting apart and they have no idea what is going on. Their inner self is trying to tell them that there are other soul mates out there that they need in their life in order to be complete.
Yes, it may be sad for one or even both partners, but this is the nature of things, especially if you are just
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starting out in life.
You need to go through necessary steps in order to be complete and it may take one, or it may take several, soul mates to help you with this, but every last one of them that comes into your life are important, and necessary.
My advice is to: live, love, learn. Live to your highest expectations, love like there is no tomorrow and learn what each soul mate that enters into your life is meant to teach you about life, about yourself, and about why the two of you were brought together in the first place.
Once we learn to do this, we are that much closer to finding our higher self and on the road toward a productive and happy life.
About Dorothy Thompson:
Author, PR Coach and soul mate expert Dorothy Thompson is one of the nation's leading authorities on soul mates. Her book Romancing the Soul and ebook How to Find and Keep Your Soul Mate are two of the most comprehensive guides to explaining what soul mates are really all about. Dorothy's relationship columns have appeared in publications in the U.S. and abroad and she has been quoted in such books as "Mean Girls Grown Up: Adult Women Who Are Still Queen Bees, Middle Bees, and Afraid-to-Bees" by Cheryl Dellasega. She is a popular radio media guest, appearing on such shows as Lifetime Radio, Single Talk (World Talk Radio), Book Marketing with Fran, Around2It, Cuzin Eddie Show with Penny Sansevieri and 850 KOA-AM (Clear Channel Radio with listeners in 38 states, Canada and Mexico) and other media outlets. You can visit her website at www.dorothythompson.net or her blog at www.overthehillchick.blogspot.com.
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LOOKING FOR LOVE, IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES
By Jamieson Wolf
Cynthia Nixon opened her eyes and screamed.
There was a man sitting on the edge of her bed. He was perhaps four feet tall, with broad muscular shoulders, curling red hair, and skin that was dotted with freckles. He also had a quiver full of arrows strapped to his back and a large bow. Hence the scream.
"Easy, lady, easy," the man said. "What are you trying to do? Wake the dead?"
"What are you doing in my apartment?"
"You call this an apartment? More like a dive, ain't it?"
Cynthia moved to a sitting position, causing the small man to readjust himself. "Easy, lady, easy. You want me to fall off this bed and hurt myself? I could charge you for workers comp, you know."
It was then that she noticed the wings. "Who the hell are you?"
The man winked at her and ruffled his wings. "I'm anybody you want me to be, baby.”
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Cynthia made a sound of disgust and pulled the blanket out from under him. "No, I mean what are you? What's with the get-up?" She held up a fist to the little man. "And you better start talking, cus I'm in the mood to scream."
"Okay, okay," the man huffed. He folded his wings around himself. "Jeez, lady, you really know how to mark up a guy's manhood. I never asked for this job, you know."
"What is it exactly that you do?" Cynthia asked.
He puffed out his chest. "I'm Cupid."
She snorted. "Yeah, and I'm Little Bo Peep."
Cupid wiggled his eyebrows. "Did you want to be? I've got a great Sheppard’s outfit and I’m sure I could find you a Bo Peep dress."
Cynthia’s mouth frowned in disgust. "In your dreams...”
Cupid leered at her. "It's happened," he said. "Most women find me very charming."
"Why, because you shoot them with arrows?"
"Nope, the arrows are for the men. Most men are too stupid to know when a woman fancies them. The arrow just gives them a gentle nudge."
Cynthia rubbed her eyes. She was not having this conversation. She was not talking to a four-foot-tall man with three-day-old stubble, wings, and bad fashion sense. "I thought Cupid was all cute and cuddly," she said in resignation. "Aren't you supposed to be like, a cherub, or something?"
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Cupid scowled at her. "Lady, don't make me gag. That's just an urban myth." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I supposed you expect me to be wearing a diaper, or something too, right? Some sort of loin cloth?"
"Well, what about the hearts, the rosy cheeks, the floating on clouds?"
"Lady, what have you been reading? Do you really believe all the Hallmark crap? Look, I'm Cupid. I got the job from the last guy, who, by the way, was arrested for looking in at women while they were undressing."
"The last Cupid was a peeping Tom?" Cynthia couldn't believe she was having this conversation.
"Yep, got into real trouble too; a woman went to take a bath and found more than a bar of soap floating in her bathwater."
Cynthia shuddered. "What are you doing here?"
"You're taking this rather well," Cupid said, nonchalantly. "Most women who wake up and find a guy in their apartment need a little convincing."
"This isn't the first strange thing that's happened to me. I attract a lot of freaks."
"Something weirder than a four-foot guy with wings?”
"Yeah, my ex liked to wear my underwear, lip synch to Abba, and enjoyed bathing in chocolate sauce."
Cupid said nothing for a while. Cynthia could tell he was picturing her ex dressed like Dr. Frank-n-Furter, singing “Dancing Queen” while spraying chocolate sauce around her bathroom.
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Smiling, he pursed his lips and moved in to kiss her. "Are you sure you don't need convincing of my prowess?"
Cynthia growled and smacked him on the side of the head. "You come any closer and I'll rip your lips off your face and shove them somewhere that should only be reserved for filth."
Cupid wore a pained look as he rubbed at his right cheek. "Man, lady, try to do a girl a favor. No wonder you can't find a man."
"I can find a man just fine, thank you."
"Oh, no you can't. That's why I'm here." At this, Cupid began to flap his wings and rose slightly above her. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. I'm here to find you a man."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Look, lady, it's not like I want to be here, all right?" He scoffed and settled on her bedpost. "The upshot is this: if I don't help you find a man, I don't get paid. If I don't get paid, I don't get laid. Kapeesh?"
"That's too much information," Cynthia said.
"Look, lady-"
"My name is Cynthia."
Cupid sighed. "Fine. Cynthia. I'm here to help you find a man, that's all there is to it. Is there anyone you're attracted to?"
"Brad Pitt?"
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"Gay."
"Johnny Depp."
Cupid rolled his eyes. "Way out of your league."
"Harrison Ford?"
"Eeeeuwww!" Cupid made a face. "He's old enough to be your father! Do you have a thing for Daddies?"
Cynthia scowled. "Tom Cruise?"
"Do you read the tabloids or what?" Cupid spat. "He's taken. Married a way younger girl to get back his manhood. You've got to think realistically, Cyn. I can make dreams come true but I ain't no miracle worker."
"Well…" Cynthia blushed. "There is this one guy. His name’s Taylor Wood. He works down at The Black Beetle, a bar down on Second and Fourth." Cynthia blushed. "He's a bartender."
"A bar?" Cupid smiled. "Perfect. I could use a drink. Get dressed, we're going out."
"Where?"
Cupid sighed. "Do I have to spell out everything for you?"
He started flying again. "We're going to the bar to get you a man. A little zap with an arrow and Taylor will be naked and wanting you in minutes."
"But I'd rather he find me attractive without your help," Cynthia said.
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"Spoken like a woman who hasn't gotten laid in months. Now hurry up. After you're done showering, I gotta take a piss."
“But it’s not even twelve o’clock!”
Cupid shrugged. “Meh, its beer o’clock somewhere in the world.”
* * *
The Black Beetle was in full swing when they walked through the doors. The barstools were occupied by the less fortunate, and there was a band played what passed for music on the stage.
Cupid had folded his wings and had put a black leather jacket over top of them.
“What’s with the jacket?” Cynthia asked. “Aren’t you like, invisible or something?”
Cupid rolled his eyes. “Honey, this ain’t A Christmas Carol. I’m not invisible and people can see me, all right? Folks tend to get a little freaked out by a man with wings, as nice as they are.”
“Too bad they’re compensating for something,” Cynthia said absently.
It took a minute for the jab to sink in but when it did, Cupid gave Cynthia a withering look. “Let me assure you, Cynthia, that I am all man. It’s like a freakin’ third leg, kapeesh?”
Cynthia smiled, happy that she had ruffled his feathers, so to speak. “Whatever you say.”
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Cupid grumbled something under his breath and started walking towards the bar. “I need a beer. Let’s meet this guy quick so I can stab him and go home.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Cynthia said. She took out her compact and gave her make-up a final inspection. Satisfied, she pulled down her shirt so that more cleavage was showing and pulled up her black skirt a bit so that more leg was visible.
“Why you doing that?” Cupid asked.
“What?”
“Making yourself look cheap?”
Cynthia felt rage boiling inside her at the insult. “Thanks, thanks a lot. I’m just trying to look attractive for Taylor.”
“No, what you’re doing is trying to look cheap.” He gestured to her cleavage, which was pretty easy considering her breasts cast a shadow over him. “You’re a gorgeous woman. Why do you have to show more cleavage than Dolly Parton?”
“Because it makes men want me more?” Cynthia wasn’t sure where this was going.
“No, it makes you look cheap. You can attract a man fine just the way you are; and I’ve seen you when you wake up. You’re pretty with your hair ruffled. You don’t have to flash your Changas to get laid.”
“Changas?”
“Hooters.”
“Hooters?” Cynthia looked at him blankly.
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“Bazoombas? Hohos? Dirty pillows?” Cupid threw up his hands in frustration. “Geez! What is it with you? Boobs! I’m talking about your boobs!” He huffed. “God, try to pay somebody a compliment! C’mon, I need a beer.”
They strolled up to the bar where Cynthia had to help Cupid up onto one of the stools. Cynthia felt her stomach start to flutter when she saw Taylor Wood working behind the bar.
He was well over six feet with a shaved head and an earring in one ear. Cynthia sighed.
“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you find him attractive,” Cupid said.
“What’s it to you?” Cynthia retorted.
“Well, he’s bald. Wouldn’t you be interested in dating someone who has hair?”
“I like the bald head thing.”
“Yeah, but he looks like Daddy Warbucks,” Cupid chuckled.
“Oh, that’s right, you have a Daddy thing.”
“I do not have a Daddy thing!” Cynthia huffed.
“I don’t know…” Cupid said “Harrison Ford is pretty old. I wonder if he’s gotten any work done. You should date someone more….”
“More what?” Cynthia prompted when Cupid fell silent.
“More like…me,” Cupid finished softly. He looked down at his lap but Cynthia could see a red blush starting from the collar of his shirt and working its way up to his cheeks. Cynthia felt her heart flutter unexpectedly. I couldn’t possibly be
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 56 attracted to him, could I? He was crass, rude, ignorant, a pervert, and he had wings, for God’s sake!
But he was also honest, straightforward, and had the most gorgeous blue eyes. He had also paid her the highest compliment she'd ever received. He'd told her that she looked pretty right out of sleep, that she was a gorgeous woman, and that she was fine just the way she was.
Cynthia couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t had to change something for a man. One boyfriend didn’t like her hair; another said her crooked eyetooth was an imperfection. Another didn’t like the mole on her left shoulder.
Cupid liked her just as she was.
Her heart went out to him but before she could respond, Taylor Wood was in front of them, wiping heavy mugs with a cloth. “What can I get for you?” he asked. His voice was dark and smoky and Cynthia knew she wasn’t the first woman to fall under his spell.
“I’d like a Mai Tai, no, make that a Long Island Iced Tea,” she said. “And he’ll have a beer.”
“I don’t serve girly drinks,” Taylor said.
“I’m sorry?”
“We serve beer here, or wine or hard liquor. We don’t serve girly drinks.”
“You could mix up a Long Island Iced Tea out of the liquor,” Cupid said. “It’s just vodka, rum, triple sec, and gin, right? With a splash of coke for flavour? Even you shouldn’t have a problem with that.” Cupid looked behind Taylor. “You have all those sitting there on your shelf.”
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“So?” Taylor said.
“So you could mix the lady a drink.”
“I don’t make girly drinks,” he repeated. His voice was firm. “And I don’t serve minors.”
“I’m not a minor,” Cupid said. “I’m just short.”
“You’re a freaking minor and I won’t serve you.”
“Then at least make the lady a drink.”
Taylor looked Cynthia up and down and then smiled slowly.
“I don’t see a lady here. All I see is your cheap date. How much did you pay her?”
“Excuse me?” Cynthia asked. “Did you just imply that I’m a hooker?’
Taylor laughed. “Ain’t no implying about it. You look like a hooker, smell like a hooker, and only a prostitute would be caught dead with a guy like that.” He jerked a thumb in Cupid’s direction. “How much is he paying you? I bet I could double it and give you a real good time.”
Cupid slapped a hand on the bar top. “You apologize to the lady.”
“Like I said,” Taylor retorted, “I don’t see any ladies here. Except maybe you.”
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” Cupid shot back. “Do you shave your head so your wig stays on straight?”
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Taylor leaned down so he was looking right into Cupid’s face. “What did you say to me, short stuff?” There was meanness in his voice and everyone in the bar was looking in their direction. A live show was always better than television.
“I want you to apologize to her,” Cupid said.
“And if I don’t?”
“You can deal with me,” Cupid said, his eyes narrowing.
“Guys, guys,” Cynthia said. She knew that things were about to get dangerous. She could feel the tension in the air. “Let’s not fight over me, okay?”
Taylor spared Cynthia a withering glance and scoffed. “You’re not even worth spitting on.”
There was a hush as the other patrons in the bar sucked in a breath. “All right,” Cupid said between clenched teeth. “That’s it.”
Without warning, he whipped off his black leather coat.
While Taylor was dumbstruck by Cupid’s wings, Cupid dug an arrow out of the quiver on his back and lunged forward, stabbing Taylor in the groin.
“My dick!” Taylor screamed. “My dick, you stabbed my freaking dick!”
“It’s a wonder I was able to find it,” Cupid spat out. “Being that it’s so small and all.”
“What normally happens when someone is shot with an arrow?” Cynthia whispered.
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“Give it time,” Cupid said. “It takes the magic a second or two to work.”
Sure enough, when they looked back at Taylor, his face had changed. He was still clutching his crotch, but now his brown eyes were serene and soft and he looked longingly at the mechanical bull in the corner. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered, a smile lighting up his face. “I wonder if she’ll let me ride her?” he asked wistfully, his eyes as bright as stars.
None of the other bar patrons moved as Taylor came out from behind the bar and strode up to the mechanical bull. He started stroking the leather surface and murmured to it in a soft, sexy voice. “Do you come here often?” he asked it.
Cynthia looked down at Cupid. “I’d say it’s time we head out, wouldn’t you?”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
Cynthia helped him down from the barstool, grabbed his leather jacket, and they walked quickly out of the bar. It wasn’t until they were down the street that Cynthia started laughing. She had to stop walking and bend over, tears sliding down her face, as her body was doubled over with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Cupid asked.
“I can’t believe you got him to make a pass at a mechanical bull!” she said, “And the way he walked towards her with the arrow still sticking out of his crotch?” She laughed harder and swiped at the tears running down her face. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in months.”
“You must not get out much,” Cupid said, grinning.
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Cynthia’s laughter died away as she thought about it. “No,” she said finally. “I guess I don’t.”
They walked in silence towards Cynthia’s apartment. Cynthia wanted to talk a few times, but held on to the silence.
Finally, Cupid spoke. “What did you ever see in a jerk like that?”
Cynthia shook her head. “I don’t know. Just blinded by good looks, I guess.” She shrugged. “About what you said in the bar-”
Cupid waved his hand. “Forget it.”
“No, I won’t.” She stopped walking and turned to face him. Cupid looked down at the ground and she could see a red flush blooming on his skin again. She got down on one knee and put her hands on his shoulders. “You really meant what you said back there, didn’t you?”
Cupid mumbled something.
“I’m sorry?” Cynthia said. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Yeah,” he said, a little louder. “Yeah, I did.”
Cynthia knew then that Cupid’s tough front was just an act, and she was seeing him as he really was.
“But you’d never want to go out with a guy like me,” he said.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You are probably the most infuriating, narcissistic, perverted, egotistical man I know.”
Cupid looked up, a pained look on his face. “Geez, way to go and spare a guy’s feelings.”
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“But you’re also honest, straightforward and you paid me the best compliment that I’ve ever received.”
“What? That you have nice chumba wumbas?”
Cynthia laughed softly. “Nope.”
“That you have a nice butt?”
“I do, thanks, but nope, that’s not it.”
Cupid held out his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Then what, for crying out loud? Geez, give a guy a break here, lady. I’m doing my best.”
“You told me I was attractive, just as I was.”
Cupid blushed. “When I popped into your apartment, to take on this assignment, I saw you and…I thought you were the prettiest woman I’d ever seen.”
Cynthia smiled at him. “That’s a wonderful thing to say, Cupid.”
“So what are you saying?” he asked. “What’s this all about?”
Saying nothing, Cynthia leaned forward and kissed him softly. His lips felt soft and there was electricity there, there was fire. It had been so long since she had felt that with any man, mythical or otherwise.
She pulled away from the kiss and saw Cupid’s awestruck face. “Do you still have that Sheppard’s outfit?” she asked softly.
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For a moment, Cynthia thought that Cupid wasn’t going to say anything. But then a wide smile spread across his face, making his blue eyes brighten like jewels in the afternoon.
“Oh boy, do I,” he said.
About Jamieson Wolf:
Jamieson Wolf is the author of the best-selling books Electric Pink, Electric Blue, and Garden City-A collection of stories. He is also the author of the non-fiction works Finding the Muse: Learning to Write from Inspiration and Watching the Rose Bloom: Observations on the Dark Tower.
Jamieson currently writes for Linear Reflections: The Review Site, where he has written over a hundred book and music reviews and teaches a course on writing called The Muse at A Long Story Short School of Writing. He has also had his work published in the biography Susan Sarandon: a True Maverick, by Betty Jo Tucker.
Jamieson lives in Ottawa Ontario with his husband and his cat Mave. He also loves to hear from readers. More information about Jamieson and his work can be found at his web site: http://jamiesonwolf.tripod.com/.
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ARE YOU IN RELATIONSHIP REMISSION?
By Dorothy Thompson
Everyone’s been burned, cheated on and totally deflated by their loved one at some point. It’s not a fun thing to go through, and sometimes it causes the person to become disillusioned with the whole idea of romance, relationships or beginning anew.
They retreat into a shell, vowing to never allow anyone to penetrate this invisible shield of protection to their heart because, after all, they don’t want to be hurt again. And do you blame them?
These people whose hearts have been crushed to the point where they just say “no” to relationships are in what I call “relationship remission.”
As a relationship expert focusing on the soul mate relationship in particular, you would think that I would discourage closing off your heart for awhile, but there comes a time in one’s life when it’s often necessary to take a step back and find out who you are and what you want out of life.
At the tender age of four, Molly envisioned what her husband was going to look like and that they’d have two boys, two girls and all the puppies and kittens they wanted. She had a “pretend” marriage with Alfred, the little boy next door, and while the adults thought it was cute, Molly knew, even back then, that she wanted a fairytale marriage and was going to live happily ever.
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Fast forward thirty-nine years later, and Molly has been divorced three times and never found the fairytale marriage she was looking for. She became disillusioned with the whole dating scene after two attempts of rape, relationships that never lasted and several therapy sessions in which she felt she was the reason her life had turned out so horrible.
Had she not grown up to believing that life was one Cinderella story after another, maybe she would have been prepared for the frogs along the way. But then, who is to know what the future has in store?
No matter how hard you try, the relationship factor has baffled everyone. Since time began, man has always looked for that magic key that would open the lock to that fulfilling and lifelong relationship, without any problems or grief. So far, no one has been able to find that magic key.
Until now.
That magic key lies within you and by entering relationship remission, you’ll find out what it is you need to do to unlock that door to your heart and find the Cinderella life that’s been eluding you.
By taking a time-out and examining yourself closely, you’ll hopefully discover:
1) The only person who can make you happy is yourself
2) In order to be the person someone would want to love, you have to love yourself first
3) Being a queen instead of a pawn guarantees self- confidence and self-satisfaction
4) Self-love comes first and relationships naturally follow
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5) You are queen of your own destiny
When you have had time to regroup, you discover things about yourself that you might have been ignoring, and it’s a perfect time to fix those things that are making you unhappy. What is life? Is it is a continuous pattern of hardships and mistakes?
In my relationship e-class, I teach that self-love is the most important thing. If you don’t have self-love, you have to go back to square one and fix it. It’s not hard to do, and if you don’t at least make an attempt, your relationships will go nowhere.
Taking a break from relationships when the need arises is very necessary. It’s the time when we can sit back and evaluate our past lives and try to figure out how we went off our intended path and how to get back on it.
The irony of this is that this is when your soul mate does appear—when you least expect it!
So, take time off when the need arises and listen to your intuition, which will guide you to make the right decisions. Follow your gut instincts when things don’t feel right and when things do feel right, it just means that it’s meant to be.
The soul mate relationship isn’t hard to figure out. But, sometimes, we need to regroup within ourselves to realize why our knight in shining armor just never seems to be within our reach. Fairy tales are fairy tales, but why not turn your life into your own fairy tale and live happily ever after?
While no relationship is perfect, you have the power to make it into anything you want it to be. After all, you are the
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queen of your own destiny and hold that key to your future happiness and well-being. Use the power.
About Dorothy Thompson:
Author, PR Coach and soul mate expert Dorothy Thompson is one of the nation's leading authorities on soul mates. Her book Romancing the Soul and ebook How to Find and Keep Your Soul Mate are two of the most comprehensive guides to explaining what soul mates are really all about. Dorothy's relationship columns have appeared in publications in the U.S. and abroad and she has been quoted in such books as "Mean Girls Grown Up: Adult Women Who Are Still Queen Bees, Middle Bees, and Afraid-to-Bees" by Cheryl Dellasega. She is a popular radio media guest, appearing on such shows as Lifetime Radio, Single Talk (World Talk Radio), Book Marketing with Fran, Around2It, Cuzin Eddie Show with Penny Sansevieri and 850 KOA-AM (Clear Channel Radio with listeners in 38 states, Canada and Mexico) and other media outlets. You can visit her website at www.dorothythompson.net or her blog at www.overthehillchick.blogspot.com.
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THE MESSAGE
By Michael S. Witherspoon
“Thanks for the beer and the conversation, Jeff, but I've got to be heading home,” Sandy said.
Jeff grabbed Sandy by the arm. “Hey man, it’s still early yet. Traffic is still backed up. Have another beer.”
Sandy laughed. “I'll drive slow. I know Danny's planning a surprise party for me tonight. He dropped his list of things that he still had to get after I left for work today. You only turn 40 once and people like to make a big deal out of it. And I know that Danny called you to keep me busy for a while longer so everyone can get there and welcome me to the old farts club.” And then he laughed.
“Well, just drive slow so he won’t hate me tomorrow.” He gave Sandy a quick kiss and wished him a happy birthday again.
Sandy and Danny had been together for five years and next year it would be Sandy’s turn to throw the over-the-hill party for Danny. Sandy had never known what real love was until Danny came into his life. He was his father’s nurse that enabled his father to live out his last months at home instead of dying in a nursing home or a hospital. Sandy helped out wherever he could but his father would have had a fit if his son quit his job to take care of him when he had plenty of insurance to pay for his care and his nurse. It was his father that first pointed out all of Danny’s qualities, as if
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 68 he hadn’t noticed them all and then some. His father insisted that Danny would be a good partner for him. The man was dying and trying to play the part of a yenta.
Danny was there 24/7 for his father and they had plenty of time to get to know each other before his father passed. Sandy was the only living relative that his father had, and all of the arrangements had been made for the funeral so that he would be buried next to Sandy’s mother. All that was left was the waiting game to be over. And after it was, then and only then, did they consummate their relationship.
And that was five years ago. Danny works a couple of days a week now, no more of this live-in stuff—he lives with Sandy. Money was never a problem. Danny had plenty of his own, and after Sandy’s father died, Sandy found out that his father had stocks and bonds plus realty holdings. Still they lived modestly, except for the cars. They had matching BMWs that looked out of place in the quiet little neighborhood that they lived in.
The causeway going from Tampa back to Clearwater was pretty much bumper to bumper. Sandy thought about the fact that he could be back at the bar having a second beer. Behind him was a SUV or pick up truck with its bright lights on and it was getting very distracting. The Beamer was overheating and he knew that he needed to pull off and put some water in it. It would give Danny another half hour to get things ready. There was a boat ramp up at the light and he felt that he could make it that far with out any problems. One more light and he would be able to make the right turn.
Sarah Miles was sitting in traffic in her husband's oversized pickup. She had just spent the last four hours with her mother at the nursing home. Why she stayed that long was a mystery. Her mother didn’t recognize her anymore—hadn’t for two years. But she loved her mother very much and sat
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 69 and talked to her about her grandchildren that she would never see again—or if she did she wouldn’t know who they were. The visits had become harder and harder. But when someone took care of you all of your life, this was the only way to pay them back.
Her husband was at home with the girls and called her on the cell phone to report that one of them was running a fever. She tried to explain that she was on the causeway and would be there as soon as possible. The traffic light turned green and she said that she would be home in fifteen minutes but for now... the phone slipped out of her hand and onto the floorboard of the passenger side and she went for it. Her foot was on the gas and it went to the floor. Sandy had taken his foot off the brake, and she rammed him hard as he was turning. His car went right into the water.
Several people ran into the water, which just covered the top of the BMW and the door was locked. Someone came into the water with a tire iron and broke the back window and opened the front door and got Sandy out. But he was already dead. The paramedics said that he had to have died instantly with his injuries. They fished through his suit jacket pocket and found his wallet. His name was Sandy Duran and there was a contact number on the back of his driver’s license to call Danny Boyd.
The police called the phone number and asked to speak with Danny Boyd.
“This is he. What can I do for you?”
“Do you know a man named Sandy Duran?”
“Yes, he's my lover. What’s this about?”
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“I’m afraid that there has been an accident down on the causeway.”
Danny grabbed his brother Patrick and out the door they went without saying anything to the people there for the party. All he could think of was getting to Sandy. He brought Patrick along because he was a cop, and he could understand better what they were going to say. He worried that Sandy and Jeff might have had too much to drink and Sandy had had a fender bender. Patrick could drive Sandy’s car home and Danny would drive Sandy.
Danny wished that he'd listened longer to what the officer had to say because he could see about a half a dozen cop cars down by the boat ramp. How many cops does it take to give a man a ticket? As they made the turn at the light, they saw Sandy’s beamer being pulled out of the water and the ambulance sitting on the other side. He said to his brother, “Oh my God, what the hell happened here?”
The police and paramedics were finished with Sandy and they allowed Danny to see him before they took him away. He appeared numb while his brother Patrick was falling apart. Danny told Patrick, “We had five good years together. Time isn’t promised to anyone and I really never knew what love was before we got together. He taught me all about love and made sure that he gave it to me in large doses. It isn’t over, we will meet up again. Come now, we have to go let the others know what has happened.” Patrick just stared at his younger brother wondering where he was getting his strength from.
After everyone left that night and Patrick was in the guest bedroom, Danny noticed the light flashing on the answering machine and played it. It was Sandy’s voice saying, “Danny, I won’t be coming home tonight, but I will always be with you. You are the love of my life and you always will be. I'll
THE WRITER’S LIFE PUBLICATIONS LOVE IS IN THE AIR 71 be around to watch out for you, until you tell me to go away. I love you.”
Then Danny sat down and cried—cried like he never had before in his life. Patrick heard him and came out to comfort his brother. Danny told him to listen to the recording on the machine for himself. But there was no message. Danny checked it twice and it was gone. But he had heard it and he knew that it was only for him to hear. He sent Patrick to bed and then he went into the bedroom and crawled up on the bed that the two men had shared for the last five years and would continue to share.
About Michael Witherspoon:
Michael Witherspoon writes primarily for the gay and lesbian community but his works have crossed over into the straight community as a form of entertaining reading. He has only been writing as a profession for about six years but has been making great strides in that endeavor. Also, he is a 15-year survivor of AIDS and is attempting to pay back in some small way by co-sponsoring a group called WHAT with fellow author Linda L. Rucker, also from The Writers Life, Writers Helping with AIDS Treatments, www.freewebs.com/justsaywhat. The principal goal behind the group is to collect short stories from as many people as possible about AIDS and then create ebooks to sell with all of the profits going to AIDS treatments. Michael is also working on a compilation of his own short stories to be published by the end of the year.
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SIX WAYS TO LOSE YOUR SOUL MATE (AND HOW YOU CAN AVOID EVERY ONE OF THEM)
By Dorothy Thompson
Soul mates. The very phrase conjures up images of happily- ever-after and someone to lean on when things get tough. And then…reality check. You find yourself sitting home watching Blind Date with a boxful of tissues because your supposed soul mate ditched you for that co-worker you just knew was putting the moves on your one and only.
No one likes to be in this situation, but it’s happened to the best of us. As they say, some things are meant to be, but were there some things that could have been preventable?
Here are six ways to lose your soul mate and how you can avoid every single one of them:
1. Become his mother
It was once believed that in order to keep a soul mate you had to show your soul mate that you could do everything for him his Mama used to do: cook those nice, big Sunday dinners, mend his shirts, and basically be at his beck and call whenever he was in dire need of guidance. Okay, a bit old-fashioned, but you’d be
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amazed how many women still do this. While it’s a great thing to show your mate how much you care by cooking him a pot roast dinner after a long day at work, it gets a little overbearing when it’s starting to look like he married his mother and not the vibrant, young woman he fell in love with. What women sometimes don’t realize is that the man doesn’t want to be married to his mother; he wants to be married to you. Be yourself and mesmerize him with your own talents. It’ll pay off in the long run.
2. Doubt his word when he gives you no reason to do so
Trust is one of the most important things in a relationship. If you can’t trust your mate, you may as well hang it up. It’s not going to work. If you have doubts about his honesty, something is wrong. Unless you can work it out whatever is bothering you, the relationship will fail.
To learn how to trust is to learn how to take attention off of him or her and focus it on yourself. Do what makes you happy and before you know it, unless he or she gives you reasons to feel otherwise, everything will fall into place. If it still doesn’t, rethink the relationship and move on.
3. Play the silent treatment
One of the most important characteristics of the soul mate relationship is communication. If you can’t say what’s on your mind without your significant other going off the deep end, something is definitely wrong. Repressing your thoughts and opinions is stifling your self-growth as you know, so say what’s on your mind without bottling it up. Your soul mate will respect that and think more of you.
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4. Rely on your soul mate to make you happy I must have preached this a million times. No one can make you happy but yourself. If you have to have someone in your life or if you rely on your soul mate to provide the happiness that you can’t provide yourself, what is going to happen is that your soul mate is going to back off because the relationship is off balance. To create a happy and harmonious relationship with your soul mate, do things you love to do and became the person someone would want to love.
5. Crowd his/her space
Togetherness goes hand in hand for the soul mate relationship, but what happens when there’s no time for exploring one’s self? While we may or may not be aware of it, we’re creating an atmosphere of total consumption. Allow your mate to have interests outside of yours and you do the same. Before long, you’ll be creating a well-rounded and happy relationship that will last a lifetime.
6. Take the other one for granted
Finally, don’t let day-to-day routine become so monotonous that you forget the wonderful person you fell in love with. It’s easy to do because as time wears on, you both become comfortable with one another and it’s only natural you take their love for granted. While this stage in a relationship is gratifying, don’t forget the reason why your soul mate has come into your life and show him or her every day how thankful you are that they are in your life.
About the Author:
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Author and soul mate expert Dorothy Thompson is one of the nation's leading authorities on soul mates. Her book Romancing the Soul and ebook How to Find and Keep Your Soul Mate are two of the most comprehensive guides to explaining what soul mates are really all about. Dorothy's relationship columns have appeared in publications in the U.S. and abroad and she has been quoted in such books as "Mean Girls Grown Up: Adult Women Who Are Still Queen Bees, Middle Bees, and Afraid-to-Bees" by Cheryl Dellasega. She is a popular radio media guest, appearing on such shows as Lifetime Radio, Single Talk (World Talk Radio), Book Marketing with Fran, Around2It, Cuzin Eddie Show with Penny Sansevieri and 850 KOA-AM (Clear Channel Radio with listeners in 38 states, Canada and Mexico) and other media outlets. You can visit her website at www.dorothythompson.net or her blog at www.overthehillchick.blogspot.com.
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