Tuesday Tales...Ahh, it's Valentine's Day- Are you in the mood for love?
Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.
A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image. You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- love. This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take.
Enjoy!~
When I was
younger, I couldn’t wait to fall in love. Love as I saw in the movies or on TV,
you know a devilish, yet compassionate rogue who couldn’t get enough of me. His
soft side always glistening in wait just below a steel surface exterior. To most
folks he’d appear as a warrior, or maybe a scoundrel biker, gritty, his heart lined
with sandpaper.
I’d know the
truth.
That was my
husband, the hopeless romantic who made me believe men were kind and
compassionate, as well as rugged and protective. He brought my imagination to
life in wonderful, astounding ways. When we argued, it was passionate and
determined, before we stopped to practice empathy, attempting to see the other’s
side. You see, we respected each other enough to know we had strong
intelligence and even differing opinions had some common ground from which we
could understand each other. We grew as human beings because of our differences
and our many talks under the midnight moon, or the warming sun. I became a
better person because of him. How often do folks say that? How often do we credit
the ones instrumental in our lives? We can’t selfishly believe it’s all us on
our own merits. We have folks who shape us, force us to take the leaps which
become bounds of amazing miles.
My husband
did that for me.
My husband
is gone. He died and I don’t know who will be that coach for me now. I feel so
lost. I’m afraid I’m stunted and will never recover and what will that mean for
my son?
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