Wednesday Throw out
Sometimes art imitates life. More often than not my characters are an extension of myself. I write my feelings better than I verbalize them. So here is all of me, do with it what you will.
This is an excerpt from a different book this week. One I have been working on in the background. I hope you enjoy it just the same.
Relentless Heart
Staring in the mirror, I can’t help but hate what I see. My best friend, who is a professional makeup artist, spent at least an hour applying and blending my face to perfection, and now I can’t stand the sight of it. Tears torrent down my cheeks as I scrub my face with makeup remover. No matter how much shellac you put on, the fact still remains, you can’t put lipstick on a pig.
This night was a shit show from the start. First my dear brother, fresh home from deployment, takes it upon himself to get me laid. It took me half the night to realize this was the reason I was getting looks from so many men at the bar. When I figured that fact out, and made us change venues, I didn’t realize I would be walking strait into a broken heart.
It was as if the planets aligned perfectly, reminding me that I would never have the fairy tale. Ty was there,. obviously wasted, with Jessica the Technicolor dream whore draped over him like a cape. No offense to anyone named Jessica. I am sure there are hundreds of nice Jessica’s in the world. It was just the first name I could come up with at the time, and I wanted to go punch her in her perfect little Jessica face.
The look he gave me said it all. He was disgusted with me. He got what he wanted, and wished he could take it all back. I never could figure out why a piece of tattooed perfection would want anything to do with me in the first place. He was the type that turned heads wherever he went. I was the type that incited fat jokes and snickers at the gym. An older woman, size sixteen, is not what a man they likes of Ty would want. I was never good enough for him to begin with. How in the world did I ever think I would be right for him.
Lipstick on a pig.
The door opens to my master bath and I know who it is before his reflection even hits the mirror. His scent and presence make my senses hum. I refuse to look at him, so I busy myself with a cotton swab of petrolatum, scrubbing at my eye lids to remove the damn mascara Carrie insisted I put on. At least I can pretend the tears are just water from the facial cleansing process.
“Go back to your super model, I don’t have time for games Ty. I am too old to for that shit.”
He steps in close behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. The feeling of him pressed against me is almost enough to crumble my resolve. Sucking in a breath, I find my inner bitch and drag her out of hiding. When the smell of whiskey on his breath hits my nose, I find the strength I need to push him away. Whirling on him, I give him a shove. Ty’s firm, sturdy body doesn’t move, but he takes a step back nonetheless. I push him again and again but he doesn’t move. I use my fists to beat his chest. My strikes are weakened by the screams that rip from my throat. He tries to pull me in an hold me but I spin from his arms.
“NO!” I scream, desperate to put some distance between us. “You don’t get to touch me. You don’t get to pity me anymore. Just leave, just walk away, leave me to myself. I was doing just fine before. Why did you have to make me feel again. I don’t need this. For five minutes I was wanted. For a split second I was beautiful. Until you had to go and prove that it was all a fairy tale. A fairy tale that turned into a nightmare.”
Ty takes a step closer to me and I slash out with a stinging slap to his cheek. His hand raises and I flinch back, but instead of striking he cups his cheek. I can see a flash of anger in his eyes that softens almost immediately. With speed I didn’t know an intoxicated person could possess he grabs my arm and pulls me to him, trapping me in his arms. I struggle with everything in me to get away but his strong arms are relentless. Ty sits on the floor of the bathroom pulling me into his lap. Squirming as best I can in his bear hug, I begin to tire. I don’t even realize I am sobbing until he starts to pet my hair.
“Stop, shhh, just stop.” He holds me tighter and rocks me as I fall apart in his arms. All of my strength is gone now, so I just allow him to soothe me. Even though I know this is a mistake that will cost my heart dearly. "Can't you see your beauty? "He asks earnestly.
"No." I whisper.
"But everyone else does.” He replies.
"That's because they aren't looking through my eyes."
This is an excerpt from a different book this week. One I have been working on in the background. I hope you enjoy it just the same.
Relentless Heart
Staring in the mirror, I can’t help but hate what I see. My best friend, who is a professional makeup artist, spent at least an hour applying and blending my face to perfection, and now I can’t stand the sight of it. Tears torrent down my cheeks as I scrub my face with makeup remover. No matter how much shellac you put on, the fact still remains, you can’t put lipstick on a pig.
This night was a shit show from the start. First my dear brother, fresh home from deployment, takes it upon himself to get me laid. It took me half the night to realize this was the reason I was getting looks from so many men at the bar. When I figured that fact out, and made us change venues, I didn’t realize I would be walking strait into a broken heart.
It was as if the planets aligned perfectly, reminding me that I would never have the fairy tale. Ty was there,. obviously wasted, with Jessica the Technicolor dream whore draped over him like a cape. No offense to anyone named Jessica. I am sure there are hundreds of nice Jessica’s in the world. It was just the first name I could come up with at the time, and I wanted to go punch her in her perfect little Jessica face.
The look he gave me said it all. He was disgusted with me. He got what he wanted, and wished he could take it all back. I never could figure out why a piece of tattooed perfection would want anything to do with me in the first place. He was the type that turned heads wherever he went. I was the type that incited fat jokes and snickers at the gym. An older woman, size sixteen, is not what a man they likes of Ty would want. I was never good enough for him to begin with. How in the world did I ever think I would be right for him.
Lipstick on a pig.
The door opens to my master bath and I know who it is before his reflection even hits the mirror. His scent and presence make my senses hum. I refuse to look at him, so I busy myself with a cotton swab of petrolatum, scrubbing at my eye lids to remove the damn mascara Carrie insisted I put on. At least I can pretend the tears are just water from the facial cleansing process.
“Go back to your super model, I don’t have time for games Ty. I am too old to for that shit.”
He steps in close behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. The feeling of him pressed against me is almost enough to crumble my resolve. Sucking in a breath, I find my inner bitch and drag her out of hiding. When the smell of whiskey on his breath hits my nose, I find the strength I need to push him away. Whirling on him, I give him a shove. Ty’s firm, sturdy body doesn’t move, but he takes a step back nonetheless. I push him again and again but he doesn’t move. I use my fists to beat his chest. My strikes are weakened by the screams that rip from my throat. He tries to pull me in an hold me but I spin from his arms.
“NO!” I scream, desperate to put some distance between us. “You don’t get to touch me. You don’t get to pity me anymore. Just leave, just walk away, leave me to myself. I was doing just fine before. Why did you have to make me feel again. I don’t need this. For five minutes I was wanted. For a split second I was beautiful. Until you had to go and prove that it was all a fairy tale. A fairy tale that turned into a nightmare.”
Ty takes a step closer to me and I slash out with a stinging slap to his cheek. His hand raises and I flinch back, but instead of striking he cups his cheek. I can see a flash of anger in his eyes that softens almost immediately. With speed I didn’t know an intoxicated person could possess he grabs my arm and pulls me to him, trapping me in his arms. I struggle with everything in me to get away but his strong arms are relentless. Ty sits on the floor of the bathroom pulling me into his lap. Squirming as best I can in his bear hug, I begin to tire. I don’t even realize I am sobbing until he starts to pet my hair.
“Stop, shhh, just stop.” He holds me tighter and rocks me as I fall apart in his arms. All of my strength is gone now, so I just allow him to soothe me. Even though I know this is a mistake that will cost my heart dearly. "Can't you see your beauty? "He asks earnestly.
"No." I whisper.
"But everyone else does.” He replies.
"That's because they aren't looking through my eyes."
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