#I typed this on my phone while cooking dinner so it’s a little repetitive

[a-lady-in-shining-armour]

I am just not having as much fun on this website anymore. I used to enjoy all the really interesting articles and studies that people would share and discuss, but that’s really dropped off. I lot of the normal women on here used to drop some great common sense content about everyday things like the ‘second shift’ and the expectations of being gender conforming etc that once you notice you see it everywhere. Now most radblr bloggers are as terminally online as any bun-gender person and everything is interpreted in bad faith with overly emotional call outs peppered with emotive buzzwords.

I’m so sick of logging on to see such out of touch takes as ‘expecting me to ever be in a public space with a baby is misogyny’ and the sequel ‘criticising abstinence only sex education is homophobic’.

Some of you need a reality check so here it is:

You are not an activist (necessarily obviously that might be your day job) you are a tumblr blogger engaging in social media for entertainment.

Most of you are not wise sages educating young grasshoppers girls about how having a baby might effect their career (no shit Sherlock) or that domestic violence can exist in heterosexual relationships (is it their first day on earth?). This is basic common knowledge especially for women interested in feminism, you really are preaching to the converted on this topic and it’s annoying as hell when you act like we might not have ever thought about it. Most of us are successful adult women, we know at least the basics about the risks of motherhood and marriage (often first hand) and it’s offensive for some random stranger to tell us that they (and only they) have all the right answers to some of the biggest issues in world for women. Basically, we are all peers here and not one of you has any real authority over anyone else.

The decision whether to have a long term relationship with a man and/or have children (and who you do this with) is The most serious and important decision in most woman’s lives. This is so commonly acknowledged that I have talked about it with my Mum, my Grandma, my sister, my friends, and even some work colleagues. It’s the focus of so many fiction and non fiction books, and in my opinion female anxiety about these choices that disproportionately effect women is why the entire romance genre exists! Our teachers had discussions about it in class and I remember wondering if I really wanted children when I grew up as young as 12. Such an important decision is something that is not taken lightly by any woman (feminist or not) and will never be decided on the advice from online strangers. It’s especially galling that some of the most condescending and demanding bloggers on this topic also post things that reveal that they are young and lack life experience. Obviously that doesn’t mean they’re wrong, but it definitely means they have no right to talk down to women old enough to be their mothers that often have firsthand experience with what to them is political theory.

The risks of heterosexual relationships are well known, I mean who the fuck has never heard of domestic violence by adolescence? If a woman interested enough in gender critical or radical feminism to blog about it in her spare time decides to enter an intimate relationship with a man and/or have children with him it won’t be because she’s ignorant about domestic violence or how hard child rearing can be. I trust myself and other women to make hard choices and manage risks in our own lives.

It is entirely possible for individuals to know and understand the same information and still make different choices. Someone disagreeing with you or making different decisions does not necessarily mean that one of you is right and the other one is stupid. That style of black and white thinking is unhelpful and untrue, people’s opinions and decisions depend on the individual circumstances of their life, about which you know next to nothing. It’s beyond time to retire the smug ‘I always know best’ attitude and acknowledge the shades of grey.

[babyboy-cody]

Hi I’ve recently stumbled across your new Dolan twin stuff and the way you write is amazing!! Are your requests open? If so can you do something w gray where he’s all soft and needy and cuddly and she needs to get school work done so she just sits in between his legs doing work and he plays w her hair etc etc.??

thank you!! and yes, requests are always open! ^.^

Finals week was possibly the hardest and most stressful thing you’ve ever done in your entire life on Earth. Studying for midterms during your junior year of high school, applying for colleges, applying for jobs, studying for your driver’s test - all of that was a piece of cake. You checked it off as though it was a grocery list, moving on to the next thing in order to finish your day. But finals week for your final year of college was a mix of Adderall, panic attacks, no sleep, and bitten nails and nail beds. You’ve never experienced such stress, and it worried not only you, but Grayson as well. You rarely ate, barely showered - he even had to buy you blue-light glasses because you complained about your vision being blurry and getting intense migraines.

He deeply and terribly missed you. He understands how difficult finals can be, and he supports you till the end. But what you’ve been doing is unhealthy. You don’t have a steady schedule to separate your academic life from your personal life, and it’s been causing lots of issues. You’ve been unintentionally snapping at Grayson, especially over the littlest things. For example, Grayson was incredibly sweet enough to clean up your desk area. He stacked your books in chronological order, neatened up your notes, wiped away dust that caused his allergies to spike. Accidentally, he misplaced your glasses. And you had a fit and nervously paced back and forth while biting your already bitten nails.

“Baby…” he softly spoke. “They’re over here.” And he had pointed to your side of the bed where he had put them. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, and you had broken down to tears, to which Grayson quickly pull you into his arms and hushed you quietly while giving you kisses. He understood and he never once held that against you.

Today, you had finished one of three finals. You had one thesis paper you had to research for and a chart project for your liberal arts class. So far so good, you mentally told yourself. Your laptop was open to numerous tabs as you had your books open in front of you. Highlighters, pens, and pencils were spread around the bed. Your back ached and you repetitively cracked and stretched your muscles. You desperately needed a massage, specifically from Grayson because he is the king of back massages. Just thinking about his large, warm hands kneading into your skin while whispered praise in your ears had you sighing softly and closing your eyes.

“What’re you thinking about?” You heard Grayson’s voice as he enters the room, holding a plate of vegan sausages, cauliflower nuggets, roasted potatoes that are seasoned so well that you can smell it from your spot on the bed. He holds a glass of cold green tea in the other and motions for you to scoot over. “You gotta eat, babe.”

Your mouth instantly waters as you take the plate and thanks him with a tired smile and a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Grayson observes you silently as you dig into the delicious vegan dinner he cooked. The small moan you let out as you continue eating. He almost wanted to do a happy wiggle because you were eating without telling him “one more minute” or “i’ll eat later.”

“I missed you,” he quietly told you, pushing you hair away from your face as it gets to close to your chewing mouth. He tucks it behind your ear with his thumb. He strokes the back of your head, smiling you when you nudge your head back further against his hand. “When you’re done eating, we’re gonna set a healthy schedule together, okay? And then you spend time with me for a little bit.”

You sigh quietly and hand him your empty plate. “Gray, baby, I’d love to… but I have so much work to do and have zero time to relax for even two minutes,” you told him in a quiet apologetic tone.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he quickly reassured you when he saw the panic in your eyes. He gave your cheek a few small kisses and put your plate and cup on the table. “I just… missed you, ya know.”

“And I missed you more.” You felt him sit behind you, legs on either side of your crossed arms. His arms wrapped around your stomach, immediately pulling you into his hard chest hidden underneath his Dolan Twins merch sweatshirt. “Gray..”

He whined deep in your shoulder as his arms tightened when you tried to move away. You stifled a laugh by biting your lip and looking up at the ceiling. He always got so needy when you didn’t give him enough attention. If you two are in the same room and sitting too far from each other, he’ll send you a text and look at you over the top of his phone, feeling giddy when you roll your eyes jokingly and get up from your seat to go to him.

“Just a few minutes,” his voice muffled behind your shoulder. You laughed at his childish antics and brought your laptop closer to you. Grayson was happy that you didn’t shrug him off. You allowed him to do as he pleased while you finished your small project. “So pretty..”

“Thank you, baby,” you laughed quietly when he pulled your hair behind your shoulders to braid it. You remember him telling you a while ago that he learned how to braid from Cameron. He was always a curious kid growing up and wanted to learn something new everyday.

Grayson hummed in content as he finished the braid and tied it with the small hair tie he kept around his wrist for his own hair, which is getting a bit long, but he knows you’ll throw a huge fit if he gets a haircut. He wrapped his arms back around you and laid his head against your back, eyes shutting and body slouching. The weight of him got more and more heavy, slowly pushing you forward. You tried sneaking a look over your shoulder, pausing your typing for a second. The movement made Grayson let out a sluggish hum.

“Baby, come lay down on my lap,” you told him, stacking up the books you didn’t need and putting your writing utensils into your case.

Grayson lets out a small “yay!” and quickly moves down next to your lap. When he lays his head down, he gives your thigh a kiss and wiggles his shoulders. You shake your head down at him and use one hand to slowly type while the other makes its way into his thick hair. The slow clicks of your keyboard mixed with the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp and playing with his hair has him lulling to sleep. When you hear small snores, you look down and felt your heart melt. You quietly grabbed your phone and took a picture, his cheek smushed against your thigh and his lips parted.

When you posted it to Instagram, the caption was:

thank you for always supporting me and making sure i’m mentally here. i don’t know what i’d do without you. 💜 @/graysondolan

[princessmariaphiliper]

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 3 The Dreaming

Notes: James Acaster, Ed Gamble (Platonic), and other characters to be added. Masturbation, Foodplay, Not sure of anything else, Cheeseboards?

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader 

Genre: Smut (Self woohoo as the sims would say), Fluff, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,400

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way. 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /  Part 9

Saturday morning you had awoke with a dry mouth, pounding head, and in desperate need of a bath. Thus far you’d taken the day slow. Occasionally needing to lay down whenever another wave of your hangover hit. This had brought you to the position you’d assumed for most of the day so far. Sprawled out on the sofa with a duvet, hoping someone would magically show up at your door with a plate of comfort food.

Past talking to Ed in the smoking area you couldn’t one hundred percent make out the events late last night. You did however have a hazy memory of returning to said spot an hour later for a secret cigarette with him this time. Something Ed hadn’t done in years. You recalled much more terrible dancing, drinking, and sitting on a wall outside a kebab van at 4am, absolutely steaming.

You also had a new name that you remembered James punching into your phone early in the morning. ‘Dairylea’ the name read. Chucking to yourself you pulled up the chat.

How we feeling Dairylea triangle. x

It was late in the afternoon now, and you were idly watching something on the TV as you typed. James responded after a few minutes.

Can we not bring up food please. Doesn’t feel great not gonna lie

Same here. I haven’t moved all day, feels like I’ve become my sofa.

I found a video

You waited a few seconds before it had loaded on your phone. Turning up the sound and watching. It was you James and Ed outside the kebab truck, sloppily eating and chatting to one another. You holding the phone up, thinking you were taking a picture of the three of you.

“Oh it’s a video, fuck sake” You spoke slower than normal. James laughed at you, taking the phone from you to get a different angle.

“I just want to say. These chips are possibly the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Ed nodded silently from the corner, seemingly more to himself than you or James.

“Try one Y/N”

“I have the same ones James”

“Yes but they’re not my chips.” He held one up to your face “My chips are superior”

“Why’s that then?”

“Because they’re mine”

You watched yourself laugh at his boyish humour and bite the end of his chip.

“You’re funny you know” You spoke with your mouth full.

“I should hope so.”

“No like,” You were staring at him now with a dumb smile plastered across his face. You admitted your next sentence shyly “I really admire you and I think you’re a little bit brilliant but don’t tell anyone.”

“Nah. Any old tit can write some jokes and act like a dick on stage. Ed does it all the time. You’re doing like, actual, important things. Changing people's lives, I think you’re incredible Y/N.”

The two of you stared at each other, sharing a long moment of eye contact and drunk smiles. Ed mumbled something through his mouthful of food. Drawing both of your attention back into the real world and James stopping the recording. You blushed a little to yourself, feeling overwhelmed by the honesty you’d shared with him last night. You hoped you hadn’t said anything more embarrassing.

One for the archives, Ed’s making love to those cheesy chips

Aha yeah he is. Was a good night though, I had fun

Yeah me too! We should all get together again sometime

Maybe not drink as much though

If you’re free anytime this week we could have a movie night?

Only if there is ice-cream on the menu

I’m sure I can make that happen, any flavour preference?

All of them. He responded.

You’d had the hots for James all evening. Since the two of you had wrapped up your conversation you couldn’t get that thought of him out of your head. You couldn’t tell if it was the way you’d seen him look at you on the video he sent or if it was simply your own mind ready to flood you with dark fantasies. And so, when it came to ten o'clock you found yourself in bed, wearing only your bra and pants, unable to get him off your mind.

You’d watched the video a few times now. Observing his features cutely scrunch when you talked about him. As well as how they relaxed when talking about you. There was a four second frame in the video where you could see the back of James’s left hand clear as day. You had found yourself mesmerised by the veiny long fingers, thinking about what they could do to you if given the chance. The first three times you’d watched it you felt rather guilty about fantasising over your new friend. But by the fifth watch you sensed a need for release on your own part. Deciding that it wasn’t going to be weird if he never found out. Maybe it was all the flirting you’d done the night previous or simply your hormone cycle. But you were horny and needing to relieve some pressure. You slid your hands inside of your underwear. James voice playing in your mind.

‘Touch yourself Y/N’ he said, and you did as you were told. Following his command, you began to lighting caress on your inner thigh, teasing yourself before the main event. You moved closer into your inner parts, rubbing on your clit and barely entering inside of yourself.

‘Don’t tease’ you imagined him saying. Screwing up your brows before entering inside yourself with one digit. Feeling around your insides becoming wetter and wetter by the minute. You began thinking about his fingers again. How it had felt to have them pressed on your lips and brush the hair from your face the night before. How lovely they might feel rubbing on your clit and reach your sweet spot inside.

“James” you moaned to yourself, breath hitching in your throat as you began to rub on your clit again, harder this time. Deciding fingers were not enough to satisfy your dark fantasy you rolled out of bed to find your vibrator underneath various pairs of underwear in a bottom drawer. Ready to continue you slunk back under the covers.

You took off your underwear and began to rub yourself with the vibrator for a while. The sensation sending waves through you as you pressed firmly against your clit. Already too wet to bear it any longer you slipped it inside, gasping as you did so. You moaned to yourself, Jame’s imaginary voice purring sweet moans back at you. Picturing him rocking in and out of you repetitively as you rubbed more intensely at your clit now. Having something inside being just what you needed. You felt the knot building in your stomach,

‘Y/N’ rolling off his tongue as it has the night before. The thought of his lips laced with tobacco. The knowledge that fucking him would have to be your little secret. All these things turning over in your head as you came closer and closer to your climax. You thought about seeing him again, his last text to you teasing, imagining ice cream all over your body and him licking at you to taste the flavours.

You came then, your climax rolling through you in waves as you fucked down onto the vibrator. Everything going white as you gasped to yourself. Opening your eyes again after dwelling in bliss for some time.

Guilt, shame, and embarrassment clouded over you. Maybe it was more than a crush that you had on James. Ed’s face of disappointment in you running through your mind. You just hoped that James wouldn’t pick up on how you’d been thinking about him next time you met.  

 A few more days passed of you playing back and forth with your emotions, and you’d arranged for a movie night with James and Ed. It was now early Wednesday evening and you’d just gotten home from work. The day had gone just as bad as it had the previous week, and you had half a mind to cancel on the two of them. But ultimately deciding that maybe some company would help to cheer you up. You didn’t know quite what to cook for dinner and so in the end you’d decided a charcuterie board was the safest option. You knew Ed loved one, so did you, you crossed your fingers and hoped for the best response from James. Serving up cured meats, olives, and crispy bread to go alongside it. You hadn’t needed to cook anything, minus the camembert, just simply arranged the selection on a wooden slab.

You wanted to make an effort tonight. It wasn’t often that you had people over and you loved to have people feel comfortable in your own home. It relaxed you as well. You’d bought ice cream, just as he requested with a blush at the memory of a few nights ago. You had deserved it after such a long day at work. Ed arrived first. Making his way up from rehearsals.

“Hey” He smiled, barking at you from the doorway, bottle of red in his hands. “I didn’t want to come empty handed” Ed was wearing a plain blue jeans and a white tee with a casual bowling shirt over the top.

“Thanks Ed, I’ll put it out to share”

“Is James here yet?”

“No he’s on his way, he said he wouldn’t be long”

Ed plopped down on the sofa, you’d brought out your duvet to create a more cosy atmosphere which he’d embraced rather gracefully. He kicked off his shoes (not before asking permission) and curled up underneath the far end. You poured yourself a wine, as well as one for Ed. You joined him now, grabbing the remote and flicking through your movie options, just as a knock rapped at the door.

“Come in James,” You shouted “Its unlocked love”

James opened your door. Wearing a pair of red corduroy trousers and thick cosy sweater. His socks, you noted, were a bright mustard colour. Visible from how his trouser cuffs folded. He fully entered your living room holding a shopping bag in his hand containing a bottle of wine also.

“What’ve I missed?” James asked, giving the two of you a sweet smile.

“Nothing mate I just got here.”

“I brought wine”

“So did Ed”

“We best get them open then”

“Beat you to it my love.” Your words rolling naturally off your tongue as James too a seat down next to you. You hadn’t anticipated how close all of you would have to squeeze onto your three-seater. Needing some air, you quickly announced. “I made us a board. I’ll go get it,”

“Oh lovely” Ed hummed, rubbing his hands together before reaching for his glass of wine. “I’ll pick a film?”

“Yeah sure”

Making your way into the kitchen you thanked James another time for his gift to share. He took it out of the bag for you. Passing you the bottle carefully your fingers accidentally lapping over his own during the exchange. The static feeling shocked you, but you tried not to let on it affected you at all. James eyes met yours for a split second, wide orbs darting quickly towards your lips before breaking the contact. Via eyes and the bottle. You waddled to the kitchen. Baffled by what had just happened. Hoping to god Ed was too occupied with the TV to notice. You needed to get your shit together, why was this man beginning to have you stop dead in your tracks like that. You’d known him less than a week. And although you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that tonight was going to feel like the longest night of your life.

Panicking over, you made your way back into the room with the board and James wine glass held between you fingers. Not wanting to have another moment of awkwardness you opted to place both of them onto the coffee table, rather than passing it directly to James.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Prince of Egypt”

“Odd choice? Not see that in years”

“Me neither. I loved it when I was a kid”

“Yes, plus, Moses is a hunk” James added sarcastically to the conversation. Making you both smile and shake your heads. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let me just…” You stepped over James’s legs between the table. Climbing inside of the duvet between him and Ed. Getting comfortable, you reached over for your glass of wine, which Ed passed you (Notably without sparks or eye contact to have you blushing) and he began to play the film. You relaxed into the back of the sofa taking a sip, running it over your tongue.

The movie played and you all picked at the food you’d made and drank the wine they had bought. At around the halfway mark, James moved his position so that the outside of both your arms were resting against each other. The soft of his jumper’s fabric making you relax into it. Adjusting your hip slightly so that you leant onto him for support. Your actions were subliminal but luckily didn’t offend James as he relaxed into your body too. Only when the film had finished and James had moved to sit on the opposite side of the coffee table, as Ed supposed to play a game, did you notice. Your body missing the warmth that had radiated from his, encouraging you to shiver when he left your side.

“Pudding?” James asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Um, yeah I got,” Oh god. “Ice cream in the freezer”

You’d hoped slightly that he would forget about pudding all together. But you couldn’t exactly convince yourself as you recalled him sloppily describing you how he had a damaging sweet tooth Friday night. He was across from you, directly across from you. And you’d now have to watch him eat Ice cream while the two of you made casual eye contact without getting unbearably hot and bothered.

The two of them left you alone in the room. Ed to dig through your board games for Cluedo, and James to give everyone a helping of dessert. You tried hard not to focus on the torture you were about to endure, that you had caused for yourself no less. It was going to be a very long night indeed. 

[madlyinlovephff]

Chapter Seven

“X Marks the Spot”

“When someone finds something they have been looking for”

-------------------

“Escapes me why you wouldn’t just get ‘Air Edwards’ printed on it, its your’s for god’s sake” Amelia joked at me as the car stopped on the runaway.

I threw her an annoyed look, having heard the joke before “Shut up or I won’t let you on it”.

She pushed me as we got out of the car, her huffing behind me. My security detail including Kyle and Gary had already started getting both our stuff out of the cars and into the jet.

“Answer me sister, why buy it when you don’t even want to claim it?” Amelia winked at me as she stepped towards the jet and I rummaged through my purse for my phone.

Karol and Lima had gone their merry way already, knowing having a complete week off while working for me is both a blessing and a rarity, they decided to leave before me to start their fun; whatever it was. As much as I know and remember, Lima had gone back home to her mother’s for the week.

“Because we share the surname and there’d be no telling exactly whose it is” I sent a cheeky smile her way as we both laughed getting up the small stairs and into the private jet.

We’d decided to travel apart from the rest of the bridal party and a few hours before both the parties to get the house in order. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned before, but my vacation homes are much more used by my friends and family than me. It was almost an occupational hazard of sorts.

It wasn’t long before the plane had taken off and my sister and I settled low on our seats as we were served dinner. The flight was long; 12 hours and a few minutes to be exact but Amelia and I were no strangers to long flights and sleepy nights; particularly in that order.

She turned to look at me when she heard me sighing, “Hey Addy, thanks for coming out for me today. I don’t know how you do it, but you really don’t let me down”.

“I should be the one saying that, idiot. You’re the one who is always there for me before I even ask you. And what kind of a sister would it make me if I couldn’t even make it to your show while I’m on a break?”

“Yeah, a break that began not even 4 days ago. You’re not really taking a break, to be honest Adds”, she gave me a concerned look.

I frowned at her, “I am taking time off and going to Greece for 5 days. How is that not taking a break?” I asked her, confused.

“Mary Olivia’s wedding is very last minute, I know you didn’t know about it 2 days ago because I didn’t either. Don’t use this as an excuse because we both know you would be here even if you weren’t on a break” she said.

I sighed and turned away from her, knowing I couldn’t win with her.

I heard her open her laptop, starting to type. “Well if you’re not going to talk to me, I won’t make you” 

I rolled my eyes, “Keith told me to take a break, you know” I confessed.

If Amelia was shocked she hid it well, “You mean to say Keith told you to take a break too” she said.

I chucked, “Yeah. Said my songs are starting to sound the same; repetitive”

She was quiet for sometime. “He’s not wrong, you know. Addy, I love you but your personal life has been a flat road for years now. I honestly am shocked sometimes by the media attention on you because to be honest, you aren’t the most interesting person out there for them”.

I cackled at that, having missed her blunt tongue.

“I know right? I wonder about that too sometimes. How are they not bored of me yet?”

She smiled softly, “You’re going to have to let someone in, you know. Sooner or later” she whispered.

I nodded, feeling drained of having the same talk with everyone. Could I get a break from this?

________________________________________________________________________________

“Kyle, what did Victoria tell you about the house situation again?” Amelia asked as we both scrolled through her Instagram, me laying my head on her shoulder as we were on our way to the villa in the outskirts of Santorini.

The weather was better, trees were greener, vibes were warmer in Greece. It was one of my most favourite places in the world; and that’s saying something because I’ve been to a lot of places. 

The sea is the best in Greece, hands down. It is the absolute best here.

Kyle didn’t turn behind, instead met her eyes through the rear view mirror as he replied, “Vic just said the caretaker had gotten it cleaned. The security has been posted around the perimeter and at the gate and the pool’s been cleaned too”

I hummed. “What about the cook?”, I asked.

Kyle cleated his throat, “Victoria said she was told not to get a cook”.

My eyes widened as I started panicking. No cook? Who the hell was going to attend to the 14 guests that were on their way to the villa?

“Wha-

Amelia shushed me, “Hey, don’t worry. I was the one that told Vic to do so. I said I’d cook”

I turned to look at her, incredulously, “What? Why would you cook?”

“Why can’t I cook, Adelaide?”

“It’s not that. Why would you cook for 18 people? Have you gone mad? We don’t have Nana’s help here, if you’ve forgotten” I ranted, now anxious.

My sister sent me an exasperated look as if I was worrying for no reason. “You react so violently sometimes, I almost want to slap you”.

“You always want to slap me”.

“Not always”, she winked.

It wasn’t long before we were reaching the familiar neighbourhood and I started getting my purse in order, sighing in relief as we entered the gated area, stopping for security reasons. I made sure Victoria called ahead for extra security, specially at the entrance for everyone that is entering the villa because all in all, I took security as a responsibility if the entire bridal and groom party of my old friends were to be held at one place. 

Being too careful never hurt no one.

“You carry so much security. Sometimes I think you’re a country’s president”, of course my kind sister had to have a comment about everything. But she wouldn’t be Amelia if she didn’t make fun of me for everything.

“Shut the fuck up, Em” 

She threw me a peace sign just as the car stopped at the entrance of my beautiful white villa, very aged in reality but it had been with me for just a little under 3 years. 

Some of the workers were cleaning the gardens and the pools, I noticed at once. There was a man using the land mower, making a lot of noise but I was fine with it until and unless they were done with the cleaning before the guests started arriving.

“I thought the house was polished already?” Amelia asked Kyle, stepping inside the main foyer area, the white walls standing tall beside her petite figure. Kyle shrugged, indicating he was going to place a call regarding the same.

It wasn’t soon before we were both bounded inside, our luggage being dragged in after us that we were sat at the familiar couch in the living area, a coffee already on the stove courtesy of my sister. 

“We have so many memories here, no?” I sighed, as I looked around.

Amelia chuckled, “Every summer for the last 4 years now? I love this place Addy, don't know what I’ll do if you decide to ever sell it” she said.

I frowned at her, “We both know you’d never let me sell this house; and even if I do, you’ll probably buy it from me just so you can stake a claim in your name. You’re forgetting I know you too well” I rolled my eyes, laughing.

“Probably”

————————-————————————————————

There was a knock on my door. “You’re done changing or what? Security is sending them in as we speak” Amelia said, hanging halfway inside my room, then almost slipping on her feet.

I rolled my eyes at her, “You aren’t even wearing heels, Em” I say and I follow her out of the room, turning the lights off as I exit. 

She looked down at my feet, seeing my 6 inch stilettos and face palmed, “I feel under-dressed now so let me just go and change. You know, I really hate being your sister”.

“Yeah right”

It wasn’t long before people were bounding inside, Charlotte Wellesley being the first one to step inside, her Hermeś bag on her right arm. Sophia, Willa and Mary Olivia were the next ones followed by a lot of men, most of whom were from Robbie’s side. However, I could hear a commotion outside.

“Look at this place! I always underestimate you, Addy” Charlotte exclaimed, in a tone I knew I didn’t like. So it wasn’t a surprise that my fake smile didn’t bother her in the least. Sometimes you have to deal with aristocrats like her too.

“What’s going on outside?” I asked Robbie, as I pulled out of our hug. Amelia had just arrived on the scene too, now in her beige 5.5inch heels. 

Robert, Robbie’s brother, laughed at that, “Harry’s security isn’t being allowed to come inside. Your security is giving them hell because of some issue” he said.

After kissing everyone’s cheeks, I was outside like a breeze, worried about the issue. I took hosting at my place way too seriously even if the event had nothing to do with me. I hated tarnishing a good hosting.

Apart from the 7 more cars in my driveway, and more people stepping out of the cars or others getting help from my service for getting their luggage out, there were about 6 people right outside the main gate, clearly in a heated argument.

“Kyle? What seems to be the issue here?” I said, not even noticing that my voice had taken an authoritative tone. 

Kyle and Gary both turned towards my voice, along with the rest of the men. All of them were dressed in black suits, and badges indicating how 2 of them were someone’s security detail.

“Look, miss, His Royal Highness will not be stepping inside if his security detail isn’t allowed to. However, he is here off-schedule so we request you do not waste his time on such a trivial matter” a buff man said, very formally.

I squinted at him in anger, how dare he speak to me in such a manner! I ignored as Gary said something to him as a rebuttal.

“No, you look here, mister. No one steps foot on my property until and unless their background checks were sent to my security prior to their arrival. This includes other personnel of security as well. This is my property and an event I’ve taken under my supervision. So I apologise if I’m wasting someone’s time, but this isn’t a trivial matter for me. This matter is solved, Kyle. Gary, show them the way out where they can wait while I speak to Robbie and Mary in private” I said, anger in my tone and fire in my eyes because if there’s one thing I don’t react well to; it’s authority from someone who clearly has no authority over me.

“Yes ma’am” both Kyle and Gary said in unison, before the rest of my security started showing them the way out and I turned.

“Well, that was quite a speech. I must say I’m impressed” came a voice, I detected the posh British accent in it in a second. 

I turned around to face the man, already done with this shit. I hate dealing with stuff like this.

It wasn’t long before I stopped in my tracks, and I noticed the man did too. For a few seconds, we just stared at each other and I wondered why I had to be in this situation with this man, and this man alone. Couldn’t it be anyone else in the whole wide world?

It was Prince Harry. 

Ofcourse. Robert mentioned the name Harry and his security dropped the HRH. It was right in front of my face.

He recovered first, smiling beautifully. “Adelaide, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you yet” he said, putting his hand forward.

I caught his hand, still not breaking the eye contact. I don’t know why I wasn’t able to look away from those baby blues in this instant, but I hoped I didn’t look like a creep.

“Your Royal Highness, likewise”.

He chuckled, something dimming in his eyes as I called out his title and I noted that he probably didn’t like being called that.

“Uh I’m sorry for the mishap, Ms. Edwards. I fully recognise that it was a mistake at our end-“

“So then you also understand how my security can’t do their work if they let inside someone they had received no prior information about” I cut him off, crossing my arms, almost forgetting who I was talking to but I was in my element in that moment.

He paused for a while there, probably not expecting me to act the way I did. He looked at his 2 bodyguards and shook his head at them.

“What is the solution to this then?” He asked, turning to look at Kyle and Gary.

I frowned at him as my security detail looks at me as he questions them. I cleared my throat, now fully realising that everyone was outside at the garden patio and involved in our drama.

“The solution to this is them stepping out of my property for the next 24 hours which gives my security proper time to do background checks” I said, exaggerating a little but I was triggered. 

Harry visibly sighed, “Is there no other way? They are royal security, if they’re with me that means they already have gone through an extensive background check.”

I took a beat, “Look sir, I have a policy about this that I plan to uphold; it’s the same as if you were here without any security and someone else brought in two highly trained personnel with guns on my property”, I gave him a look because I knew I had hit a correct point with this one.

“Ma’am, you have more than a dozen security officers here right now, it is not possible for His Royal Highness to step in without any prior knowledge to this either”, one of his protection officers said.

I frowned, not acknowledging that he was right to a certain degree too.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair and turning to look at Kyle and Gary, “Alright, here’s how this is going to work; these two security officers will be allowed to enter the grounds, however they will not be entering the building or be allowed in the backyard and the private beach”,

I then turned towards the Prince and his officers, “As is the rule for all of my security detail except for Kyle and Gary, here. This is the best I can offer you” I gave them a look, ready to step out of the conversation because I was suddenly reminded of the fact that we still have no cook and almost 2 dozen people to feed.

As I walked away from the scene, I heard Harry berating his officers but by then, I was over this issue. I walked inside the place, noticing numerous luggage bags all over the place and 2 people in the pool already before I entered the kitchen, squinting at Amelia who stood there, hands on her hip and barefoot.

“Is this the time when I get to say I told you so?” I chuckled, laughing harder when Amelia turned around with an extremely offended look on her face.

“I really didn’t realise just how hectic it’d be considering we just travelled overnight too”, she pouted and I decided to just be the bigger person at the moment because we quite literally have a lot of people to feed.

“Dial Kyle’s number and ask him to come inside, lets just get him to get the cleaning people to distribute cookies and juices in everyone’s rooms” I instructed her, and within a minute Kyle was stood in the doorway to the huge white kitchen, trying not to laugh as well.

“Shut up, get me a cook or two from the city as fast as you can, and get me two of the cleaning staff that can give around juices and biscuits, atleast till we figure this stuff out”

“On it, Addy”, and he was gone.

“I have an idea” Amelia said, and I rolled my eyes. “Spare me another one of your ideas, please”.

“Can you just listen? So let’s just start with salad and cocktails because we are going to be able to get done with them in the next half hour while the cook situation gets fixed” she said and I thought that might have just been the only good thing she’s said all day but I didn’t voice that particular opinion.

“Alright, you can get started on the salad, I’ll take the cocktails-”

“What’s this about cocktails, I hear?”, came a voice from the doorway and I turned so fast at that familiar voice, Amelia almost gave me a weird look.

There stood Prince Harry of Wales in all his glory, visibly relaxed than I’d seen him earlier in my front porch, and I pretended the blinding smile of his didn’t bother me. Because, it didn’t. 

“Uh Your Royal Highness, I had no idea you’d be joining us”, my poor sister sounded so confused as she threw me a similar expression, but obviously held her own because we at the end of the day, we were British.

Harry laughed politely at that, “Yeah, a lot people wished they received the guest list earlier”, he said smiling at me, to which I squinted my eyes at.

Amelia gave me another look and by this time, I was so done with her obvious looks; I wanted to get out of the kitchen. Cutting my train my of thought, 2 of the cleaning staff we’d hired entered the kitchen, throwing uneasy looks at the occupants in the kitchen and not having a clue as to why they were sent here.

“Hello, I’ve called for you here; just do me a favour and hand out some cookies and juices to the guests in all the bedrooms and by the pool, yes?” I said as my sister started getting the said stuff out of the cabinets and onto separate trays. All this while, I noticed how calmly Prince Harry stood leaning against the plush doorway seeing the scene in front of him and didn’t utter a word until the staff was out.

“You were serious when you said this was your property” he stated.

My sister laughed at that, already getting started with her famous Mediterranean Salad as I noticed her fetch the soya sauce out of the fridge, “How come you two have never met before?” She mused, pretending as if she was asking the question to herself.

I sighed, not wanting this to turn awkward, “I don’t to know to your question and yes I was serious to yours; now Amelia, can we please figure out the starters at least until Kyle gets the word out?”

“You take this hostess thing pretty seriously, don’t know?” Harry asked and I could almost sense a teasing tone underneath his words as my sister and I ran about the kitchen, setting stuff up for the preparation of the salad and cocktails.

Amelia glanced at me as she noticed I was in no mood to reply to that comment, mostly because it was true, “You have no idea, it gets taken for granted most of the times too” she said, smiling at him.

“Hi, I’m Harry; it’s a pleasure to meet you” he said after a heartfelt laugh as Amelia introduced herself and they shook hands on it. He looked at me for a moment, probably deciding whether or not he should do the same with me but my teasing smile must’ve made the decision for him.

“Hello there, they call me Harry; what do they call you?” 

“They have too many names for me, kind sir”

“Well, what name do you like to be called by, fair maiden?”, he asked, eyes twinkling.

I pretended to think it over, getting ice from the ice-cooler, “Ms. Edwards, if you will”.

He squinted his eyes at me, the teasing smile still on his face and I could just feel Amelia’s eyes on us throughout the conversation; it wasn’t until we heard a crash that we broke eye contact, just to see that my sister had dropped the knife.

The vibe in the kitchen was too chill for me to even think twice about a Royal’s presence in the kitchen of my home with my sister in attendance. He laughed at my sister’s antics and picked up the knife before she could, turning to look around the kitchen as if he was seeing it for the very first time.

“It’s a nice place you got here, Santorini has the most beautiful water”, he said casually and I smirked as I remembered how I said exactly that to my sister earlier in the day.

“Thank you, I got it on sale actually”

“Oh, did you now?” 

It was quiet after that comment as I shook my head, “you can go right ahead to the pool if you’ve freshened up already; we’re sorting the food situation out”.

Harry leaned against the customised white marble counter, “I heard something about making cocktails and decided it would be highly impolite if you weren’t made to taste some of mine specialities”.

“We aren’t having you work while we host, Harry”, Amelia said, shaking her head at him.

“I’m offering it to you”

“Well, we didn’t ask for it. Our nana would turn in her grave if she were here” I said, setting up all the beverages in front of me to get started on the drinks.

He sighed, looking at the two of us as if he couldn’t believe we weren’t accepting his help. “Is it because I’m too handsome?”

A burst of laughter sprung out of me before I could even think about it, “That definitely isn’t the reason why”.

It wasn’t long before he had convinced us that no one in the world could make a better Black and Tan than him, after he saw the bottles of pale and dark beer on the counter. 

“You will love it, just trust me”, he said and I rolled my eyes as I got started on my cosmopolitan. 

A few minutes later, Kyle walked in with three people; two men and a woman. He stopped short when he noticed Harry standing beside me, trying to snatch the single vodka bottle we had left. He didn’t comment on it because he knew better and just introduced us to the three cooks he managed to get to us in the short amount of time. Amelia thanked him before asking him to get more beverages, to which he quietly responded and promptly left the kitchen.

We decided to set up the late lunch in the beautiful wooden Gazebo outside, that I had had visions about for the longest of time before it got installed in this villa. It could seat well over 25 people. Amelia and I argued about that too but we reached a decision pretty quick when we saw the weather outside. 

The smell of the Greek Sea reached my senses, as the temperature already started to get a little chilly since it was early February. Harry was helping us throughout, bringing his special cocktails out in the sun, walking alongside me, as he placed the tray on the large bamboo table (that I got custom made specially in Brazil).

“This might just be one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever seen”, he said, eyes trained on the vast sea in front of us, which was just a few steps down from the rock the villa was built upon.

I hummed in response and noticed how quickly he got involved in conversation with the rest Robbie’s groomsmen, hearing the word Hazza over and over again. I went inside the kitchen again, checking up on the food when Amelia entered after me and just stood there, staring at me.

“Yes?”

“Don’t yes me; what the hell is going on between you two?”

“Between who two?”, I knew who she was talking about because how could I not with all of her obvious stares.

“Don’t think you can play me, Adelaide. I thought you’d never met Prince Harry before?”, she asked, confused.

I looked around, satisfied that none of the three cooks looked even mildly interested in our conversation. “That’s because I haven’t; well, not before today”, I replied.

“It certainly did not look that way. Why is he being so chill with you?” 

“Hell if I knew. Maybe he’s a fan” I threw her a cheeky smile at that, walking out of the kitchen as she followed me.

“Yeah sure, that’s definitely it”, she said and I didn’t reply to her because for one, I didn’t have an answer to her and second, we were amongst 20 other people as we stepped out once again.

Everyone had started mingling, as I found myself in conversation with Louis Spencer, someone I’d met numerous times before because of his on-again, off-again relationship with my cousin, MacKinley Edwards. He even had been to our family estate over Christmas Holidays two years back.

MacKinley is my first cousin on my paternal side; being the only daughter of my Uncle, Matthew Edwards who is the younger brother to my father. To be honest, I had zero idea about Mac’s and Louis’ current relationship status and I was too afraid to ask. 

I caught Harry’s eyes as I was laughing at something Louis had said and his eyes flitted over to him, frowning as he stepped out of his circle, clearly intending to join Louis and I.

I raised my eyebrows at him, as he handed me another Martini, side hugging Louis as he did some weird fist bump thing.

“You two know each other?” Harry asked, pointing at Louis and I, and we turned towards each other, smiling.

“A little too well, no, Addy?” Louis smiled a Cheshire grin, nudging me with his shoulder.

Harry was clearly very confused at our relaxed attitude. He asked Louis to explain; and I was suddenly hit by the realisation that the two of them looked a little too similar. The resemblance was definitely there.

“You remember MacKinley, don’t you? Adelaide Edwards here is cousins with her”, he replied, sipping his drink.

“MacKinley Edwards? You’ve been going out with her forever” 

“The very same one. Afraid the surname is the same one” I sarcastically said, biting my tongue afterwards as Louis shook his head at my response.

“I’ve known Addy and Amelia just as long as I’ve known Mac; we even spent a Christmas at her estate two- three years back?” 

“Two”

“Two years back”

Harry nodded, clearly a little thrown off by that information as I took that opportunity to ask about their relation, slapping my forehead as Louis relayed the information about them being first cousins as well, on Harry’s mother’s side and Louis’ father’s. I obviously was privy to this piece of knowledge beforehand, however it hadn’t hit me until just that very moment.

“That was wee bit weird, no?” Harry laughed as Louis walked away from us.

“It just keeps hitting me how we’ve never met before today” I replied, taking a sip of my Martini.

He took a deep breath, “That ought to be the truest thing I’ve heard today”.

It wasn’t long until food was being served and everyone was seated around the bamboo table, people pulling their white chairs back to sit. Pizza was being cooked in the natural oven we got installed outside, the smell of chicken overtaking my senses and I realised I didn’t have my phone on me to click the picture of the delicious scene on the table.

I started asking everyone to help themselves as Amelia sat on my right and Louis on my left. Robbie poured everyone Champagne as he remained the only one standing. Once he was done, he told us that he’d like to make a toast and then turned to look directly at me.

“To Adelaide and Amelia ofcourse, for so graciously accepting to host us here and always being the friends that Mary’s frustrated at awful hours of the morning. We love the both of you” He raised his glass as did his fiancé; my sister and I raising it back to them as everyone yelled.

“This is such a beautiful property, Adelaide. I’m in love” Sophie commented and I smiled at her.

Robbie continued his toast only to be cut off by Mary-Olivia as she started hers. We all laughed at their antics. Late lunch which had already turned into an early supper, finally started as everyone helped themselves to it.

I caught Harry’s eyes somewhere in the midst of it, throwing him a smile as he replied with a similar one. I asked Amelia to turn on some music as I didn’t have my phone on me at the very moment as she teased me with ‘Should I play one of yours, hm?’, and I slapped her shoulder at that.

It got worse when someone asked Amelia what had happened as she let out a loud laugh at my reaction; and then she continues to tell them exactly what happened. I rolled my eyes as everyone chuckled at the taunt, Louis being the loudest of them and I mimicked shooting him in the head before he came to an abrupt stop.

An hour later, the guests were sprawled all around the area, some in the pool; others in the hot tub and a few just lounging on the beach chairs. Mary-Olivia and Robbie were dancing quietly and I was conversing with Charlotte because we both happened to be at the outside bar at the same time. I was getting myself a whiskey and I didn’t bother to know what she was getting herself; ducking out of the conversation as soon as I had my drink in one hand and my phone in the other.

I headed down the rocky steps to the beach, initially standing and then just sitting down as I took a deep breath, the wind running through my hair and I felt alive for the first time in a long while. I continued sipping my drink, glad to be away from all the noise when I heard a voice behind me.

Turning to look back at whoever had followed me, I saw Harry; clearly on a with someone. I didn’t think he me until he cut the call, swiping at his phone and turned to look ahead, finding my eyes. I could sense he thought twice about coming over, as he reached me and plopped down beside me on the chilly sand.

“This shouldn’t be considered safe, you know. High tide’s on” he said, eyes locked on the ocean ahead.

“Pretty sure it isn’t”

We sat in silence for the next few minutes, laughter from the house above reaching our ears; clearly someone was thrown into the pool as a shrieking followed. Probably Mary-Olivia.

“I feel like I should apologise, for this morning” he said, turning to look at me.

I shook my head, sipping my drink as his eyes followed my movement; “I wouldn’t worry about it a lot, I do apologise if I let myself get too heated. I just take this stuff seriously because that’s exactly what I’d expect from someone else, you know?”, to which he hummed.

“Also for not letting them inside the property”, he chuckled as he continued.

I joined in the chuckling fest, “You’re very welcome”.

Another silence crawled its way in but it was nice. It was a different kind of silence that wasn’t awkward but serene. Sitting out here with him didn’t feel like an intrusion from either of our sides, and I found myself breathing a little easier. 

Not much had to be said, we were two strangers after all; but at the same time, it felt comfortable. It wasn’t like me to feel so relaxed with someone so soon. There were so many things two complete strangers could talk about, but we chose to be silent.

I caught him looking at me a few times, the blue in his eyes so mellow because of the dark. I thought about what he saw when he looked me.

It felt nice. Normal, even.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Addy’s Vacation Home in Greece

Addy at the Airport

Addy in Greece

[dariamalek]

The Perfect “Quarantine Routine”

Giving it a fun, rhyming name makes it a little less stressful, right?

I have to admit, I have been extremely MIA for the last few weeks and it’s honestly because I didn’t have anything to write to you guys. I have about 8 different partially finished posts in my drafts folder that I just didn’t get a chance to complete and there was just one culprit for my case of writer’s block: quarantine.

Dun, dun, DUUUN.

So we’re all either extremely annoyed of staying home, going through our own cases of the grumps and eating LOTS. I, for one, have been doing all those things simultaneously and I think I found the reason why some people are not very happy with this quarantine.

Many of you have had your jobs or schools temporarily cancelled and closed down, thus having you stay home with nothing to do except binge Netflix and well, eat. This will make someone feel as mush as my grandmother’s mashed potatoes (which would make for an amazing snack along side some Ritz crackers, I’ll tell you) however, I have found the one thing that will make this feeling of extensive laziness go away: a routine. Which, I should mention, is also what many of you lost in the first place that is making you feel this way.

I’ve made posts about routines in the past including my “Bedtime Routine,” “Morning Routine” and “My Perfect Routine For 9-5 Jobs” which are all currently linked. However, I never explained my psychological reasoning behind why and how having routines benefit us, which is strange given the clear biography on my page.

Firstly, routines can help with insomnia and sleeping schedules. Though your brain remains active when you sleep, it is still getting recharged. However, when your brain or body aren’t really working, or doing anything during the day, the brain does not feel like it needs to recharge at night. Thus, making it difficult for you to fall asleep. Having a routine and items on your daily schedule to complete will help your brain feel like it’s actually doing something throughout the day and working and no, watching “Deep Sea” documentaries on Netflix doesn’t count as “working.”

Stress is also big during quarantine. Whether it’s about your job or the literal pandemic going on outside your window (it’s one of those “see but can’t touch” moments), it’s understandable that you would feel extremely anxious during this period. Setting a time for things in a routine help your mind understand that you do have time for everything - and this works especially well if you’re working from home. However, adding some time for relaxation or something fun (in my case, watching Jane The Virgin on Netflix #TeamMichael) will give your brain an incentive, reassuring yourself that you do have time for literally everything in the day. Also, getting used to a daily routine will help your brain slowly predict its daily tasks, thus reducing anxiety.

So now that we’ve covered all the science stuff, here’s a little sneak peak on how I planned out my “Quarantine Routine.”

It’s been a few weeks of quarantine and I’ve learnt that planning weekly is the best way to go, especially if you work at home like me and don’t want to be up until two in the morning in bed typing away, extremely annoying your sleeping partner (because he still has to go to work in the morning). This is also good if you’re a student who has finished their exams and don’t have much to do.

Make sure you have something productive to the three most important elements during quarantine: your job/school, your space and yourself.

Here’s how i planned out my week: I looked at my work at a week’s worth and stretched that along Monday - Friday, that way I am not stuck at a computer screen for hours upon end each day. Then, I found a new part of the house to clean or redecorate everyday. If I have a heavier workload, I will just dust or vacuum the house. Make sure that there is a balance between workload and lifeload. Then, I found something that I wanted to do that would help me with my mental wellness. For me it’s reading, finding a new cooking/baking recipe, writing, painting; stuff that will help you connect with yourself.

Here’s how it panned out:

7-7:30: Good morning!

7:30-8: Take this time to do your morning routine. Brush your teeth, wash your face: taking care of hygiene, regardless of whether you’re staying home or not can impact your mental wellness extensively. Do your morning routine like you would if you were going out somewhere.

8-9: Do a light workout. Since the weather is getting better, maybe go for a walk outside. According to Craig Janes, director of the school of public health at the University of Waterloo, going for a walk is totally fine during the COVID-19 outbreak. Just be wary of social distancing and stay cautious: this means staying 2 metres away from others at all times. Getting fresh air could improve your mental or physical health. During my walks, I also tend to take my protein shake (aka breakfast because I have IBS which means I have scratched off most breakfast foods off my diet list) in order to make sure I don’t get hungry. You could eat breakfast before or after your workout or take a protein bar with you on your walk. I tend to rotate my physical activity from light at home workouts, yoga and going outside for walks.

9-9:30: Take a nice relaxing shower. Don’t be afraid to spend a little more time in there. There’s no rush and really let your muscles relax. Make yourself a nice protein sake while you finish off with your skincare routine. Just because nobody is going to see you doesn’t mean you can’t take care of yourself.

9:30-11:30: I like to do my work at two hour intervals. I try to aim for 4 hours of work a day in order to complete my weekly load. This may be different for you depending on how much work you need to complete or what you attention span is like.

11:30-12:30: LUNCH! I’ve tried cooking my lunches as much as I can rather than having leftovers, which help with the whole “productivity” thing. However, eating outdoors really does help. Fresh air will make you feel much more productive going  back to work.

[TIP]: Keeping a diet log can be super helpful for those who overeat or snack throughout the day like I do. Put down the times you will eat breakfast, lunch and dinner and then you can determine what the right time is to snack for you. It should be 3 meals a day and 2 chances to snack!

12:30-2:30: Back to work!

2:30-3:30: This is when you can binge your Netflix show, read a chapter of your book or just relax, have a cup of tea. NO NAPS! We are trying to make sure you fall asleep by the end of the night.

3:30-4:30/5: This is the time where you do something light and breezy in order to better your space, which is another important element of mental wellness during quarantine. Without taking care of your space, overtime it will get messier and it will become a distraction. Getting into the habit of doing light cleaning will help you better your mental wellness, even after quarantine as well, and lessen your lifeload. On this specific day, I started my deck transformation for spring. Started putting up the table and the barbecue and unloading some spring activities from the shed, and redecorating the furniture on my deck. This is also another good time to snack!

4:30/5-5:30: Relax again, but do something different! Don’t go back onto the TV. Maybe do some writing or art exercises. Play a game with someone if you live with them. Go sit outside for a bit. Sing or play music. Don’t use your relaxing time to do repetitive things, otherwise you will get bored quickly and run out of ways to unwind in the future.

5:30-6:30/7: Depending on whether or not you have a family, intermediately fast or need to cook before you serve, your timing on dinner may be a little all around the place. But that’s okay. If you can, try having dinner with your family, roommates or significant other - all at the table with no phones. This is a great way to have some social interaction during quarantine. It’s important to remember there’s life beyond this and once it’s over, you will get back to your own routine. Try not to talk about “updates on COVID-19″ but rather talk about something new that you learnt today. I’ve started my joke of the day segment which my partner doesn’t find too appealing so I’ve switched to fun facts (because word of the day was too easy). Today it was: frogs absorb water through their skin so they don't need to drink. Pretty cool, huh? Totally forgot about quarantine.

6:30/7-8:30/9: I personally use this time to meditate and connect with my body. Maybe do some stretching and self reflective activities. Just being able to be one with my thoughts and making sure I am doing well. This also includes phoning a friend and seeing how they are doing. Remember, just because you don’t see a face(s), doesn’t mean they’re not out there. Maybe your friends need your spiritual company as well. Feel free to have some fruit snacks as well. I even schedule out my snack times because I don’t want to over-eat.

9-10: This is movie time for me, but again it’s up to you how you want to use your downtime. Spending an hour with your significant other or family is much needed right before bed.

10-11: Start your bedtime routine! Mine will be linked here.

11-Zzz: Lay in bed and close your eyes. If you need to listen to some light piano music, go ahead. Eventually, you will feel your eyes getting heavy and you will drift to sleep.

I understand these are trying times. However, understand they are just temporary. I also urge you all to listen when they are asking you to stay home and be safe, as well as practicing social distancing. This will not go away if we are not listening to our doctors.

Also, take the time to thank our medical professionals who are away from their families in order to work hard to help the rest of us stay healthy and safe during these times. Your service is much appreciated.

And most importantly: take care of yourselves and your loved ones. Don’t panic over every news story. Turn off the news for a little while and just relax and forget about it. We will all go back to our norma lives once this is over only if we listen and cooperate.

Be safe and take care of yourselves.

[NOTE FROM DARIA: You will notice that my writing style is a lot different than in this post. I wanted to be able to comfort and connect with all of you as much as I could in this post, mainly because a lot of people (including myself) are quite anxious about our current standing. I feared if I wrote a piece that was similar to my other posts in tone, it would diminish my goal for this text due to it sounding more like a lecture rather than a helpful piece. I am curious to know whether or not I should continue writing my texts like this, or if you prefer the wordier posts.]

With love,

daria xx

[justlookfrightened]

The Morning After, Part II

Read Part 1 here and Part III here

Jack still had a smile on his face when he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

“Good news?” Tater asked.

“Very,” Jack said.

“You want to share?” Tater asked. “You find new history book? You get money for new rink?”

“Not exactly,” Jack said.

How could he explain that he had just been invited to breakfast -- apparently in his own apartment -- at some undetermined date after they returned from their current two-day roadie? Instead he said, “I just got a text from a friend.”

“A friend?” Tater asked. “Or a friend?”

“A friend,” Jack said firmly, because even though he hoped Bitty turned out to be more, it was way too early to start talking about that. To even think about starting to talk about that. “I was hoping he would get in touch, but I wasn’t sure he had my number. He’s working on the campaign for the ice rink, too.”

“Okay,” Tater said, but he sounded suspicious. “Maybe he has a friend who is a she? Because that’s a smile I never see on you.”

“Nope, just him saying we can have breakfast when we get back,” Jack said, hoping it sounded like a breakfast meeting, to discuss important community ice rink campaign business.

“Okay,” Tater said.

Then Tater’s face lit up.

“You want help?” he said. “Bring me to breakfast. I agree Providence needs more ice rinks. Then more kids play hockey. That’s good, yes?”

“We’ll see,” Jack said, unsure about whether to tell Tater that his friend -- his friend -- wasn’t even a hockey player. He was a figure skater.

When Jack was finally alone in his room, he pulled out his phone and read the text from Bitty again.

If you’re looking for the muffin bowl when you get home, check the concierge desk. Sasha brought your groceries up. I used some to make myself breakfast. Next time you can have some too.

First, he carefully saved Bitty’s number, under “Eric,” to look less incriminating. Then he composed a text to send back.

Sorry about the grocery delivery. I forgot it was this morning. But I’m glad you had something to eat. That looks good. I’d love to join you whenever you can. We get back early Thursday morning, and that’s an off day, so I’m free in the evening, if you are. Don’t worry about the bowl -- I probably wouldn’t have noticed it was gone.

Actually, if Jack knew Sasha, it probably wouldn’t be gone by the time he got back. Chances were, it would be sitting on his counter, clean, probably with a note explaining the circumstances and thanking him for the muffins. Even if he had nothing to do with them.

Sasha, honestly, was sometimes a little intimidating, but Jack admired her efficiency, and he knew she wouldn’t have tried to make Bitty uncomfortable. It still made him cringe -- if he had been caught in someone else’s bed by the building staff, he’d still be hiding in the bathroom. But Bitty, well, Bitty didn’t seem like he was afraid of anyone.

Jack remembered the first time he’d seen Bitty. He’d been on the ice with one of his students, demonstrating a spin. Bitty would do it, his body perfectly balanced, and then let the kid -- a boy, Jack thought -- try, and then Bitty would show him again, drawing attention to the placement of his foot, to the position of his free leg, to the set of his arm. It went that way for three or four repetitions, and then Bitty looked up and caught Jack staring.

Jack had been embarrassed, but instead of apologizing, or complimenting Bitty on his technique, he’d lashed out, yelling about the time it would take to resurface the ice.

It was true, of course. No matter how beautiful figure skaters were -- and Jack wouldn’t argue against that -- they left divots in the ice that took a couple of passes of the Zamboni to fill in. Besides, there were never any more than three or four figure skaters on the ice at once -- fewer as they reached more elite levels -- when you could throw 20 kids on the ice for hockey practice. So why shouldn’t the hockey teams have priority?

But Bitty hadn’t backed down, skating to the boards and telling Jack off for interrupting. “We have five more minutes out here,” he’d said. “And your teams aren’t even ready yet. Why don’t you go tie some skates? Felix here needs to do one one more run-through before he gets off.”

That had set the tone for all their interactions for the next year.

Up until the season Bitty showed up, Jack had only made appearances at the kids’ league to open the season and to award the final trophies. Which he made sure every child got, snarky comments about participation trophies be damned. Those kids all made an effort to get out there and try something new, and Jack thought they should be rewarded.

Once Bitty was on the scene, Jack tried to come whenever his own schedule permitted. Bitty wasn’t there every time, but it seemed like his students had the ice either just before or just after Jack’s minor mites more often than not. Jack wanted to be annoyed at Bitty for insisting on the full measure of his ice time -- he was annoyed, truth be told, when he had 40 kids ready to play a game and Bitty was running one skater through his or her moves for the tenth time.

But he also was more than a little intrigued, and attracted. Bitty was a sight to behold when he skated, and, frankly, adorable off the ice. When he stood up to Jack -- which was every time Jack spoke to him, it seemed like -- he would come right to the boards, even though he had to look up to see Jack’s face. His cheeks would flush pink and his jaw would have a determined set to it.

Despite that, Jack had never seen him in any kind of conflict with anyone else at the rink; even the young hockey coaches Jack’s foundation hired for the league seemed to love him. That was a clear advantage when it came to winning support for a second sheet of ice at the rink, as the event the night before showed.

A new sheet of ice wouldn’t solve all the problems -- there wasn’t enough ice in the world to do that -- but having twice the ice would allow both the hockey and figure skating programs to grow, and Jack, with his celebrity, and Bitty, with his winning personality, were an effective tag team when they were making the case.

By the time the evening was over, Jack was feeling more friendly than he ever had towards Bitty, and he was having a harder time hiding his attraction, until they sat across from each other at the cafe and Jack realized that Bitty was attracted to him too.

Deciding to invite him home might have been the best decision Jack ever made. It also might have been the most reckless.

Jack knew that, and he knew that the very thought of bringing a man home -- someone who knew exactly who he was, and why he wasn’t out, and hadn’t seemed to like him for the past year -- would normally send him spiraling towards an anxiety attack. But when he and Bitty had really talked (okay, really flirted) at the coffee shop, he learned enough of Bitty’s history to know Bitty would never out him.

“I didn’t even tell my mama I was gay until I moved up here permanently,” Bitty told him. “It was bad enough being a gay boy in Georgia. No need for Coach and mama to be the parents of a gay boy in Georgia.”

When Jack looked confused, Bitty shrugged. “With me becoming a Yankee and all, which is what the neighbors think, no one does more than ask politely how I am, and all they have to do is confirm I’m still alive. The scandal of moving to New England is enough to drive anything else out of their minds.”

Sasha wouldn’t tell either. Jack was sure of that. She wouldn’t have told even if she wasn’t paid well to keep quiet about the residents.

He had just settled into a new book on Lewis and Clark when Bitty texted back.

At least while you’re gone no one will yell at me to get off the ice. jk. I have a class Thursday evening but it ends at 8. I could bring you dinner, if you want.

Jack tried to remember the rest of their conversation. Bitty hadn’t said anything about still being in school. Did he teach group skating classes too?

What kind of class? Jack texted.

Cooking, Bitty texted back. I do some cooking classes on the side.

How do you end up teaching skating and cooking? Jack asked, honestly curious. Bitty had mentioned being in college; why didn’t he have a regular job?

You get a degree in American studies, Bitty texted back. Seriously, I don’t like doing the same thing all day. Anyway, I’ll plan something you can eat and make it along with my students, and then I can bring it over. Or we can do something fast at your place. I already know I need to bring some spices. Are you allergic to anything? Besides flavor, I mean?

What was that supposed to mean?

What does that mean? Jack texted.

I’ve seen the inside of your cabinets, and what you order from the grocery store. I can help. I promise.

If it gets you to come over, then fine, Jack typed. But I can’t go far off my nutrition plan.

Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Bitty responded. I used to feed a whole hockey team when I was in college.

Did he mean he hung out with hockey players? Or just brought them treats so the wouldn’t be mad if he was on the ice? Jack was a little pleased that he knew that was how Bitty operated.

How did you know the hockey team? Jack asked.

Um, I was on it? Bitty texted. Captain my senior year and everything.

Shit. Was Bitty mad now? It wasn’t Jack’s fault that Bitty didn’t look like a hockey player, for all he was in great shape, with a compact, lithe body that Jack fully intended to ruminate on as soon as this conversation was over. The way his body and hair glowed gold against Jack’s gray sheets had made an image Jack would have loved to capture.

Sorry, Jack typed. I didn’t know. How do you put the embarrassed face in a text?

The answer came quickly.

You should honestly be more embarrassed to ask that, Bitty texted. I’ll tell you all about it Thursday? Or maybe Friday morning, over coffee.

Part III

[fandammit]

When you need directions, then I’ll be the guide (1/2)

[A/N: A few days late and a two-parter because I don’t know how to write short things for the Kastle fic/art exchange. A gift for @allmyfuckingobsessions for her lovely road trip aesthetic, found here. Can be read as part of the same world as Loss like the sharp edges of a knife, though you don’t have to read that to enjoy this.]

“Hey, Frank?”

He looks up from his book and meets her eyes across the small cafe table. She gives him a small, close-lipped smile that makes the corners of his own mouth turn up on instinct.

“Are you free this weekend?”

He closes his book and folds his arms across his chest as he nods. Doesn’t even have to think about his answer.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Do you want to take a trip? With me, I mean.” She leans forward, her hair dropping over her face. She clears her throat and pushes the strands back behind her ear as she worries her top lip with her teeth.

Of course there is no other answer for him than yes, and he thinks she must know that. He wonders if she’s asking only out of some sense of obligation — if her restlessness is borne out of her worry that he’ll agree.

“I do.” He uncross his arms and shrugs, rests his hand on the table top. “But only if you want me to.”

She smiles at him, the edges of it more relaxed now as her shoulders drop down a fraction.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

He tilts his head at her.

“You sure? Cuz you seem — uh — .” He motions towards her. “Nervous or worried, and — .”

She shakes her head and reaches across the table to rest her hand on top of his. It’s not the first or fifth or even fifteenth time she’s done it. They've spent much of the last month together, in stark contrast to the nearly 12 months prior they've spent orbiting one another, circling the same paths but never crossing.

Now, his morning runs end with him having early morning coffee with Karen before she heads to work. Nights not spent at the boxing gym or out with Curtis are reserved for alternating dinners at one another’s apartment.  

Karen’s a tactile person — or at least, she is with him. Fingertips lightly tapping a rhythm on his wrist as she rereads a sentence that needs reworking; a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him forward in her tiny kitchen as she brushes past him as he's cooking dinner; her feet tucked up underneath his leg as they watch a movie on her couch.  

And of course he, too, has never been as closed off with her as he is in other parts of his life. He catalogues the touches between them that he initiates, because he’s the type of man who might; because these are the type of feelings where each one matters.

Often: a hand at the small of her back as he introduces her to Curtis, to David, to Paul at the boxing gym, to Mrs. Abaya at the animal shelter. Sometimes: a brush of his fingertips against back of her hand as he hands her a cup of coffee. Very rarely: his palm lingering on her cheek as he tucks a fallen strand of hair back behind her ear.

Still, her hand on his makes him smile. He shifts his hand so that her fingers are wrapped up in his, his thumb gently brushing over the ridges of her knuckles.  

She smiles softly at the movement and takes a deep breath, squeezing his hand as she leans forward.

“I came to New York with two suitcases. Just clothes, some jewelry. No photos or, um, keepsakes or…anything from home, really.” She looks down at their clasped hands, pulling at her top lip with her teeth as mulls over her words. “I was the only around to pack up the house I grew up in when I left. I should’ve sold all the stuff or…” She shrugs and looks away from him for a moment, makes a sad sound that’s halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “Thrown it all out, probably, but —.” She looks back at him and runs her hand through her hair and shakes her head. “I didn’t. I just put it all in storage and have never been back ever since.”

There’s a sad, faraway look in her eyes as she speaks, the same one he always notices when she brings up her life before New York. She doesn’t talk about that part of her life often — a late night story about Kevin, now almost four years dead; a short mention of a busy father and a distant mother; allusions to some tragic series of events.

He'd be lying if he said he's not desperate to know more about it. As much as he knows about her — the fact that maple coffee cake is her favorite pastry, that a furrow appears between her brows when she’s looking at a particularly difficult sentence, the color of her eyes in the early morning light versus in the lamp light of her living room — there’s so much about her that remains a mystery to him. And while he thinks he could just look her up — or have David do so — he knows more than anyone that there are some things meant to be spoken out loud, eyes locked on one another, rather than read on paper.

Karen draws herself up and clears her throat, shaking him free from his own thoughts.

“Anyway, I got a call last night from the storage company saying that the land got bought out and they need to transfer all their units. They wanted to know what I wanted to do with all my stuff and I figured — .” She glances over at him from the corner of her eye as she shrugs. “I figured that I should finally go through it all — decide what I want to keep and what I should throw out.”

He nods slowly, taking in her words and turning them over in his mind.

“And you want me there with you for that?”

She nods.

“Yeah, I do.” She takes a deep breath and gives him a soft, small smile. "I really, really do.”

He smiles in return, warmth blooming in the center of his chest and spreading outward. He squeezes her hand and twines his fingers in hers, then nods.

“Ok.”

They leave early Saturday morning. They’re both early risers anyway and Karen wants to get to the storage unit as soon as it opens, which means he shows up at her apartment before the sun has even broken over the horizon.

They decided to take his truck because neither of them trust Karen’s car to even make it to the city limits, much less the 245 miles it’ll take to get to Fagan Corners. Plus, Karen made a reference while they were planning to an apple orchard along the way — a little out of the way place at the end of a bumpy, country road that she’d always wanted to go to as a kid.

So, of course he’d called ahead and made sure they were open that day.

He waits a few moments in his truck to see if Karen has seen him pull up and is coming down on her own. When she doesn’t, he reaches behind him and pets Gracie, her tail wagging as she looks up at Karen’s apartment.

He grins.

“I’ll be right back, girl,” he says quietly, scratching her behind the ears. “And I’m sure Karen will have a treat for you when I do.” Gracie perks up at the sound of Karen’s name and he chuckles at that. Sometimes he thinks she likes Karen more than she likes him, which makes him feel like she was definitely the right dog for him.

Just as he gets out of his truck, Karen emerges from the front door of her apartment building. She’s wearing dark blue, cutoff jean shorts and a dark grey shirt, her hair in loose waves around her face. And while it’s not the first time he’s seen her wearing something other than work clothes, it’s still rare enough that he finds himself momentarily breathless. There’s an easy sort of beauty to Karen, one that radiates out especially when she’s in something as ordinary as jeans in a t-shirt on a quiet Saturday morning.  

She smiles when she sees him and adjusts the bag on her shoulder as she holds up two cups of coffee in either hand from Vigilantes. And even though he could just wait by his truck until she gets to him, he's drawn to her and that smile, and finds himself jogging across the street to meet her halfway.

He takes the proffered coffee cup in her hand, then, because he both wants to and wants to revel in the reality that he’s able to, he leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

She tilts her head and the smile on her face dips into something more apologetic before she motions to the truck.

“I figured it was the least I could do since you’re going to spend an entire Saturday driving back and forth to a random little town in the middle of Vermont.”

He shakes his head and nudges her with his shoulder as they walk back to his truck. He could say that he had nothing else to do, that he’s never been to Vermont in the fall, that her hometown isn’t just a random little town to him.

And those things are all true. But because it’s Karen, and because he’s always tried to be his most genuine self with her, he instead says the most honest thing he can say.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

They spend about five minutes going through the radio stations before Karen gives up on them and just connects her phone to the truck’s bluetooth.

“Any requests?” She asks, scrolling down her phone.

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Just none of that shit that makes me sleepy.”

Karen grins.

“Ok, so no indie.”

He glances over at her phone.

“What do you have on there?”

She shrugs.

“I have Spotify premium, so I have pretty much anything you want.”

He nods.

“They got any, uh, road trip mixes on there or something like that?”

Karen lights up, and he finds himself ridiculously pleased at being the cause for it.

“Good idea.” She taps her fingers a few times on the screen, then laughs quietly. “Ok, no, you’d hate these.”

He furrows his brows as he glances over at her.

“I might not.”

She arches a brow at him and starts playing one. He gets about 30 seconds into a song with an easy baseline, clapping sounds and a young man singing a string of nonsensical, repetitive words before he looks back over at her.

“Ok, you’re right, I hate this.”

She laughs and stops the song, and for a few minutes there’s only silence and the sound of her tapping the screen every few seconds.

“I think I have one. It’s called Classic Road Trip Songs, so I feel like you’d like it.”

The opening drumbeat of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” start to come through the speakers and he grins.

“No better start.” He looks over at her. “What else is on this?”

“Creedence Clearwater Revival…the Allman Brothers…Johnny Cash.” He nods along to each artist, then looks over to find her grinning over at him. “And also a few fun surprises that I’m sure you’ll love.”

“So, I’ll hate them?”

Karen laughs.

“It depends how you feel about 90’s pop music.”

“I’m, uh, sure not very well.”

Bruce Springsteen is followed by The Kinks, which is then followed by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

The first surprising song turns out to Smash Mouth’s “All Star,” which he feels like is a disputable song to put on a playlist called Classic Road Trip Songs.  

He doesn’t say so though, because Karen grins brightly over at him the minute the opening bars come through the speakers and then almost immediately starts singing along softly in the seat next to him. And even though he does, in fact, hate the song, he also wasn’t immune to the fact that there was a point in time where you essentially couldn’t escape it.

He joins in the second time the chorus comes around, his own deep voice matching surprisingly well with the lead singer’s. Karen stops singing completely, staring at him in complete shock before her face breaks into the brightest smile he’s seen from her as she sidles closer to him, her high voice joining his as they sing along to the rest of the song.  

It’s silly and saccharine and utterly ridiculous, and some deeper part of him thinks about the absurdity of a man nicknamed the Punisher singing along to some upbeat pop song from a one-hit 90’s band.

But that line of thinking is drowned out in the flood of music and the press of Karen next to him, is supplanted by the weighty feeling of happiness settling into his bones and falling into the lines of his smile.

He thinks that this silly, absurd moment is the happiest he’s been in a long time.

And part of him even thinks that, despite it all, he might deserve it, too.

[overly-b]

Christmas Jams - Tom Holland

I hope that you guys are having a lovely December so far! Here’s some more Christmas love! This is a pretty short one, but I felt that it may have gotten to repetitive if I had continued. Enjoy loves!!

Warning: little swearing

Word Count: 2k

“Rockin’ around, the Christmas tree, at the Christmas party hop”

The familiar lyrics roll out of the speaker and into the kitchen where you stand swaying your hips. You were just beginning to cook dinner for Tom and yourself when you decided that Christmas music was the way to go for this December night. 

It only took a few lines for your hums to become a light mumble of singing. And only a line or two more for your mumbles to turn into a reasonable singing voice. And before the chorus, you found yourself belting along to the upbeat song, bouncing from foot to foot, moving your hips, spinning once or twice.

You breathe in and out through your mouth as the song ends, grinning to yourself as you lean over the counter to your phone to choose the next song. 

Carol of the Bells caught your eyes and you start to remember your high school days. You had sung this song for choir every year for your Christmas concert. You lightly sing along to your specific part of the song, thinking of all of the fun that piece of music was to sing in a large group. 

You have your hands full as the next song rolled through. The beginning melodies of The First Noel wove into your ears. Being a rather soft song, you opted just to sway and sing instead of dancing around like an idiot. 

Little did you know, Tom was pulling into the driveway. Having spent a long day at the studio, he found himself eager to see you and to eat the dinner he knew you were preparing for him. Being that today was his last day of work before his Christmas break, you had promised him something special. As he walked through the door, he was about to call out for you when he heard the loud ringing of music bouncing about the house. 

Christmas music, he smiles at the thought. As he nears the kitchen, still yet to be seen, he hears the music accompanied by your voice that he loves oh so much. You do not sing around him often, so he considers it a blessing when you do. He finds you at the stove, cooking as you sing. Dressed in a pair of Christmas pajama pants and a white tank top, he smiles at your spirit. 

“Noel, Noel” He listens as your voice captures him as it seems to do every single time you sing. “Noel, Noel” Your pitch reaches higher levels as the line continues. 

Still hiding, he takes a video of you, debating if he should post it on Instagram or not. He chooses not to, seeing as you are quite shy about your singing. He might ask you later. 

As the slow song ends, a new, more fast-paced song takes its place. He almost lets out an adoring laugh as you gasp at the realization of the song. Using your red fuzzy socks, you slide over to the speaker, turning up the volume. 

“Santa tell me if you’re really there! Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here, next year!” You belt, not bothering to start the song lightly. Tom quickly whips out his phone as you start dancing around to the song. He goes on Instagram live. With the camera pointing to his face, he holds a finger up to his lips, as if to tell his fans to keep quiet. He points in a direction that the camera cannot see. 

“Look at how cute she is” He mouths, flipping the camera. Knowing how possible it was for you to do something completely embarrassing that you would hate him for posting, he knew that he had to be ready to flip the camera or turn off the live. 

Your phone lights up with a notification from Instagram. You read that tomholland2013 had gone live. You smile to yourself, knowing that he was most likely doing something stupid with Harrison or spoiling things and decided to film it. 

But in his eyes, nothing that you were doing was in any way embarrassing. Sliding around on your thick socks, using the fabric to spin, slipping every once and a while. He is forced to stifle laughs often as you amuse him. 

You continue along, singing and dancing. The song fades, and you decide to text Tom as the lyrics of “I want a hippopotamus for Christmas” fill your ears. You hum as you type the words

‘Be home soon?’ 

Not two seconds after you send the text, you hear the familiar ring of Tom’s phone coming from around the corner. His head then pops around the wall. 

“Hi love!” He cheekily grins. 

“Tom!” You shriek. “How long have you been there?!” 

“Long enough ” He pecks your lips as your face contorts in a slight confusion. 

“You went live like three minutes ago...” You state. To this, Tom shyly smiles, bringing his phone up to show your face to the camera. 

“Guys I’ve been caught” 

“Holy shit!” You yell. “Thomas Stanley Holland what the hell!” You squeal with a slight embarrassment. You will admit that no, you didn’t do anything crazy or wildly inappropriate or embarrassing. Still, you smack his chest, a blush rising to your cheeks. 

“What?” He asks innocently, shrugging his shoulders, he turns the camera to face him. “Everybody thinks you’re adorable!” He argues, not wanting for you to be embarrassed. 

“I am pretty cute huh?” You joke. He flips the camera so it is showing you and your holiday attire. 

“The cutest” He smiles. To this, you give a light-hearted grimace. 

“You’re not off the hook yet Holland. Get into cozies and help me make dinner” You demand. 

“Can we stay on live? Talk to some people? I feel like I haven’t done a good live in forever” He explains. 

“Why, cause you were banned from making unsupervised videos or going live?” You giggle. 

“Okay come on now” He whines. 

“Yes we can stay on live. And don’t worry” You take his phone from him. “I’ll be supervising” Tom makes a face as he turns to walk up the stairs. 

“I don’t need supervision!” He groans, voice sounding farther away as he enters your shared bedroom. You laugh. 

“Yeah tell that to Marvel!” You call after him. You hear a faint string of profanities as he changes. You chuckle to yourself, looking down at the phone that is still recording. 

“Hi guys” You position the phone on the counter top where it views the entire kitchen. “I’m not really sure how much of my singing and dancing you saw” You point out. “But I apologize for every second that Tom made you watch.” You smile. You peek over your own phone. “What song should I play next?” You ask. 

The comments flood in, each stating Christmas songs of many varieties. But there is one that catches your eyes multiple times. 

All I Want for Christmas streams through the speaker. You turn it down slightly. 

“Holy shit I love this song” Tom yells from the upper level. Not a moment later, he rushes down the steps in a Christmas jumper. 

“I” He begins. “Don’t want a lot for Christmas,” He says in a slightly musical way, holding his hand out for you to take. “There is just one thing I need” He motions for you to sing with him. You take his hand and he dramatically pulls you in close. 

“I don’t care about the presents” You sing, but not in a serious, worried about your singing type of way. In a loud, fun way. 

“Underneath the Christmas tree” You both sing together. You sway together in large steps, but as the chorus nears, the tension builds. 

“All I want, for Christmas is...” Your dancing slowly comes to a stop. “You” You drag on. The song suddenly becomes upbeat, as does your dancing. 

Taking fast steps, you and Tom dancing around the kitchen, still hand in hand. Looking absolutely ridiculous, and not trying very hard at all to look professional, you both laugh and sing. Tom spins you around swiftly. You slide back into his chest as he catches you. 

Individually, you dance your way back to the stove, where you mix around the pot that sits there. Tom waltz’s over to the cabinets, taking out a few things that he knows you need. You both continue to belt the words to the music. 

“Thank you” You grin toothlessly as he hands you the items. Tom leans over the counter, turning the volume of the music down slightly. He talks to the fans for a few minutes as you cook. You make comments every now and again. 

“Taste” You hold out a spoon to him. The takes the spoonful of food, nodding. 

“That's really good babe,” He says, swallowing. To this, you grin to yourself.

A new song comes to your attention. One that you know by heart. 

“Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me” You start, taking on the sassy ego that seems to come to the song. 

“Whoa” Tom turns his head to you, seeing your new demeanor.  

“Been an awful good girl. Santa baby,” You and Tom meet in the middle of where you both were standing. “Hurry down the chimney tonight.” You sing to him, cheekily, giving him an eskimo kiss. The song goes on, and you sing every note about all of the things you wanted for Christmas. At least in the song. 

As you hear the first notes of Jingle Bell Rock your face lights up. Knowing the Tom had only recently watched the iconic movie Mean Girls, you knew that he would get a kick out of what you were about to do. 

“Are you ready for this?” You back away from him, still in the view of the live stream. 

“Am I ready for what-” He is cut off by the lyrics starting, along with you beginning the first few steps to the Mean Girls dance. Tom bursts out laughing as he understands. You laugh along at your self as you dance, hoping that the people watching know that you’re jokingly performing the dance, and not actually trying to be seductive. 

Your boyfriend jumps alongside you, following your messy steps. He goes by what he knows. You fall to the ground laughing as you cannot believe that you were the person to completely memorize the entire dance. 

Tom lends you a hand up and you continue to dance with him. 

“Jingle bell swing” He sings, lifting you up bridal style. Having taken you by surprise, you let out a loud squeal. Tom swings over to the point in which most of your hair is touching the floor. In one swift movement, he swings you back to your feet. You shriek again. 

Your stomach hurts as you laugh, and your cheeks grow sore as you smile. You lean into Tom, sliding your arms around his waist, resting your head on his broad chest. 

“I’m dreaming, of a white, Christmas” The vocals of Michael Buble forms a small smile on your face. “Just like the ones I used to know” 

The two of you rock back and forth to the slow-paced tune, humming it to each other. He gently spins you around, bringing you back smoothly. 

You press your body to his. Holding one hands out, you softly fumble with each others fingers. His other hand rests on your waist, while yours travels from his chest, to his shoulders. 

“I’m so happy your home for the holidays” You sweetly beam, looking up at him. 

“Me too darling. I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you” He kisses your forehead, then as you lift your head, he kisses your lips. After a moment or two, you pull away abruptly. Toms head leans forwards slightly, eyes still closed, confused as you why you yanked your delicious lips away from his. 

“Um Tom?” 

“Hmm?” He mumbles, wanting nothing but your kiss. Your head snaps in the direction of the kitchen counter. 

“Are we still on live?” 

[rueur]

Morning Pages #12 (16.01.2017)

Monday 16th Jan - 9:12 a.m.

A train is leaving South Morang station only seconds from now, because it is now 9:13 a.m.. I said I needed to look up exactly what was going on with the myki fares for this year, because the machine keeps charging me $2.05 for each trip to South Morang from here, and I think from each trip to the city from here. I want to know if they’ve actually eradicated Zones 1 & 2 and it’s just the same price no matter how far you travel. Because I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea, but I don’t know if that’s what they’ve done until I look it up so I’m just going to do that the next time I come to a natural break in my typing. As it is, though, I have a lot to say that’s in my head for the time being.

I realise that Ikaros has really soft hands and I’ve been thinking about that for a while. He said his hands have been really soft since he got the German measles and the top layers of his skin fell off, leaving him super smooth for months. His palms and the soles of his feet still happen to be quite smooth. He used to brag about this a lot and I didn’t think it was such a big deal, but I’ve been touching more boys’ hands lately and his hands, I now realise, are INCREDIBLY soft. They’re softer than my hands.

I fed the cats before I started writing today, because it was 8 o’clock when I looked at my phone. I remember waking up briefly at 7 o’clock, and then I guess I fell back asleep for an hour. I came home around half past twelve last night. Ikaros and I went into the city and we watched Assassin’s Creed; well he did. The cinema was freezing cold and I kept falling asleep, it was horrendous. From what I saw of the movie anyway, it seemed more visually interesting than chronologically compelling. In other words, the storyline was weak. Ikaros verified this for me, after talking exhaustedly about it on the way to the train and then on the train. I was somewhat interested, but also too out of it to really pay attention, which made me feel even worse, considering I’d just fallen asleep and missed most of the film anyway. I should let my brother know that it’s no good, although he had suspicions that it wasn’t before I went to see it. I should’ve listened to him; he’s got the franchise’s best interests at heart so it certainly had to mean something that he’s so willing to boycott this film.

Okay, so I just looked up the myki fares. Turns out there’s a $3 cap on weekends for concession holders, which is amazing. I’ll definitely be going out on weekends a lot this year, hopefully. Zone 1 is $2.05 for one journey, and Zone 2 is $1.40. Combined is $2.05 again. Therefore, daily cap for Zone 1+2 concession holders is $4.10, which is 15 cents more expensive than last year, even though weekend travel is 90 cents cheaper per day. I’m sorry, I need to know this stuff, I’m a uni student studying in the city. Train commutes have been an integral part of my daily life since 2015. Goodness, I hope I get no 6 a.m. starts in 2017. It would make sense that third year students get the best timetables, right? We’d be given priority in regards to room bookings and lecture schedules. They have to, of course. I’ve put up with two years of heinous early morning starts and it is just too taxing for me to be up and ready at 6 a.m. and on a train at 7. It’s just not possible.

I feel compelled to talk about my day during these pages, but I don’t know why I should, really. This is meant to be stream-of-consciousness anyway. I guess what I’m thinking about right now, what’s in the back of my mind right now, is the food that’s in my fridge. I have a little under a quarter of a watermelon, and half of a honeydew. I have two hash browns from a coles deli, a bag of four-leaf salad, a quarter of a choc chip Panettone, a sliver of tofu, half a block or so of cheese, some soy milk, red kidney beans and lentils and chickpeas, and a little one-serve tub of blackberry yoghurt. I think that’s everything, but probably not. Oh, and a loaf of bread. And some jalapenos. I’ve made myself hungry now. The point is that I have options this morning in regards to breakfast. Ikaros stayed over yesterday, and he usually takes me shopping whenever he does. This time around he went rather crazy though. It was a little surprising, considering the odd half-fight we had on Saturday night about my not telling him about Tinder and Evan. Okay, it wasn’t so much a fight as my finally being honest with him about the way he makes me feel. Regardless, he wanted to make sure I knew that he cares about me. I guess that’s why he’s so eager to feed me the way I was so eager to feed him for most of last year.

We ate really well yesterday. Whenever he and I get to cook together, we make and then proceed to eat, the best food. For breakfast, we had diced tofu and mushrooms and kidney beans, served with a rosemary panini that had been scoured and filled with colby cheddar and olive oil, and a large fried portobello mushroom. For lunch, watermelon and honeydew with a tub of yoghurt each and some slices of Panettone. We found a deli at Northcote Plaza that had their Panettones on clearance from after Christmas. We got out large choc chip Panettone for $5! For dinner we had spicy mi goreng noodles with the beans, chickpeas and lentils, served with a hash brown each and two tofu strips. I had the worst dump this morning. So did he, he tells me. But I am so thankful as well, for that day of fantastic food and fantastic company. Although I do feel a bit hungry again now, and my asshole doesn’t feel too great, I still also feel very refreshed from a day of love and self-care.

We also watched pretty much the entire first season of Girls yesterday, and both agree that we would have sex with Adam Driver. Just his voice, his muscular build, his entire screen presence was irresistible and every scene with him in it had our full attention. My partner and I share a similar taste in men and women, I’d say.

For some reason, I’d just found myself on Isaac’s Facebook page, and it turns out that the rock odyssey he’s been working on, Paris, has just been announced to play in July of this year. He’s also doing The Mikado in New Zealand, that’s why he’s in New Zealand. I thought he was there for a holiday, but no he’s still working non-stop, it seems. He’s doing incredible things though, really incredible. His professional bio is getting very extensive now, and with every passing year he just seems to grow more and more impressive. I have no doubts at all about him moving to the United States. It’s a shame in a minute way, just because I really enjoy his company. I know if I ever want to see him again at that point in his career, I’ll need to gain some prominence as a writer. It’s a nice incentive, and I feel that it is in my reach. I feel like I’m starting to apply myself in a very liberal sense, that is during my time off I’ve been indulging my creative self a lot more. Isaac has always said though, that once a project gets on its feet, the creative process takes a back seat and the work becomes a lot more repetitive and tedious, mechanical. I can see that happening with what I’m doing with First Impressions. I think that after this show, I might have to leave First Impressions, move on and begin to do my own thing. I don’t know, maybe I should look into doing something with the Footscray Community Arts Centre. Honestly though, every time I think about the future, the first thing that I want to achieve is getting my license. It’s absolutely ridiculous that I haven’t gotten my driver’s license yet and I feel like that’s holding me back from being able to do a lot. I have near 16 or 17 hours and I need 120, it feels totally out of reach, and my brother is probably going to get his license before me, which is not fair because I’m in a period of my life where I desperately need it, and he’s got two years of high school and three years of uni left before he gets to meet the situation that I find myself in now. He’ll definitely get his license before high school graduation, and I’m trying not to think about that right now despite mentioning it now, because it makes me near-livid. Middle child syndrome. I’m sorry.

Another thing that I’m trying not to think about is Evan. He was so sweet and gorgeous and I really hope that he will call me and I can see him again this weekend, and we can talk a lot more than we did last weekend. Last weekend happened only three or so days ago though, and I know I should just be patient. Good things come to those that wait and all that.

I should stop thinking about him, I know. I should just live my life, and whatever happens happens. What’s happening today? I am going to South Morang again today, for drama rehearsals at 1 p.m., but I will be arriving hopefully around noon, because Martin is coming to visit, just for this afternoon. He’s back in Australia for a brief holiday, visited his family in Sydney, and is now visiting old friends in Melbourne. I’m not sure if he managed to catch up with Emily. I should ask if he knows that Emily’s in Sydney right now. I don’t know what I’m going to say today, or what I’m going to wear. I haven’t even showered or brushed my teeth or eaten breakfast yet, and it is 10 o’clock now. Oh I am actually so nervous to see him again. Excited, but nervous. I’ve missed him quite a bit. He was a very talented artistic director and I’ve sorely missed working with him. Hopefully Paul might learn a little something from him too, if Paul does get to meet him.

I think I might also go home for a little while today. I’ve kind of been neglecting my family for the past week or so. It’s been hard getting in sync with them, actually mostly getting in sync with my sister. My brother’s just always around. My parents are coming back in the night of the 18th of January, so that’s Wednesday. I’m going to go back and see them on Thursday. I should tell my mum I’ve been going out dancing. She’s not a fan, but she might be glad to hear I’m at least being social. Probably shouldn’t tell her about Ikaros for a while, though.

[heartsofstrangers]

What has been one of the most challenging things that you have experienced or are currently experiencing?

“I would have to say that the most challenging thing that I have experienced is trying to reallocate my life after my divorce. I think that has been the most gut-wrenching thing I have ever had to go through.”

Tell me about it.

“Well, I met my ex-wife at a very young age; we were thirteen years old, possibly fourteen. For a very long time I courted her, I would say at least four or five years, probably seventeen years old is when we started our intimate relationship and became exclusive with one another.

“I had my first child very young. I was six months from graduating high school. I’m not saying that I did all that great in high school, because I literally didn’t know where I wanted to go as an adult at that very young age. I dropped out of high school at the age of seventeen to make sure I had medical insurance for my first son being born. He was a blessing, but a burden at that time. Unfortunately, I had to grow up very, very quickly, so I did what I had to do. Anthony was here, was born, and I became a father.

“As far as being a dad, I was pretty good at that. I had nephews and nieces I looked after, brought up, but I didn’t know all the adult circumstances that came with being a father. Mostly financial and mental—that took a toll on me. It had to be three maybe four months into our relationship, as we moved out into our own place, she began being physically abusive. Throwing things, yelling at me, putting me down for some reason.

“After I started working I literally had $50 left over a week to buy diapers, clothes, gas for the car; all the bills were paid, but it just didn’t stretch enough for a family. So then I took another job, I worked longer hours, I was out of the house longer. I spent every waking moment that I had, if I could bring my son to work, I would. I just didn’t leave the burden to her, but within that time we became distant, she became jealous, she became angry, she started throwing things at me, started lying about me. She started breaking things, she broke me. And then we had separated, we had given up the apartment, the condo at the time. I went my way, she went her way.

“She moved into her aunt’s house. Her aunt was addicted to crack-cocaine, and my son was five months old at the time. I would get those periodic phone calls, late at night He needs diapers, and he needs formula, he needs his needs met. But yet, instead of her saying, you could care for him better than I can, giving him a better place to be, that wasn’t the case, it was more like she was treating him like a pawn. After a while it wasn’t really about what I was going through, it was about what he was going through. I took it, I let her dictate what I was going to do with my life, I let her tell me where to be, where to go, who to see, what to eat, how long I could be away from them visiting my own family.

“After a while it really became second nature. I didn’t mind. I basically said, that is what I have to do, so I am going to do it. I tried to keep everything in perspective the way I was raised as a child. I can never remember a day my father or mother didn’t come walk through the door and hug me and tell me they loved me and made sure that I was okay in every way. I had a wonderful childhood. I mean, yes I was an early baby so my mother was very protective of me. Playing outside or hanging out with my friends was not an option. But, everything else inside the home was awesome. I had absolutely no complaints. It’s all I wanted to do for my kids, but I didn’t really mesh that very well, considering. I looked at the other spectrum, which is the negativity that she grew up with, this was just normal. It was normal to yell and scream, fight and argue, pick fights, it was normal. To me I had already lost before I began, because I never saw that, I never did.

“As time went on it slowed down a little bit, the hitting became verbally abusing me—which I could take, I used to block that out a lot. I always used to make her repeat herself, because I really wasn’t listening, since everything that came out of her mouth was negative. After a few years we had another child, which is very odd because I was happy with the one; and one day I came home from work and she immediately ran downstairs and said to me, “We need to have another baby right away,” which I found very strange. And I hesitated, I said no. I said no for quite some time and then I would—well basically find her on top of me in the middle of the night. We ended up having another child.

“After we had our second child she became depressed. I don’t know if it was post-partum or it was—something was wrong because she couldn’t look me in the face anymore. I didn’t understand why. Then the hitting started again, and the throwing me out of my own home started again. It was such a repetitive motion that I knew within five minutes of me walking through the door, I knew what type of day she had. And I knew what type of night we were going to have. I would go throughout my recollections of the past and looking into the future, what can I do to change the things that are going on with her, in her head, so we could have the family that we want. It became, I need to take on the rest of the burden, so I put my sons in daycare, rather than having her stay at home and watch them. Even though she was home, I put them in daycare. Oddly enough it was very convenient, it was only two doors down. I made sure when I came home, I cleaned the house, I cooked dinner, I rubbed her feet, I drew her baths, I bought her clothes, I bought her gifts—anything and everything I could do to make her feel special. To the point where she was just for me, and the more I did that the more she pushed me away, the more she threw me out of the house, the more she couldn’t look at me in my face, and I would leave. Every once in a great while I would get a phone call from her, saying ‘Can you stop by? I need this, I need that.’ Again, a revolving door of the same thing that happened two years ago, is now happening two years later after we have another child. It is kind of like she was as child—a product of many divorces, where it was normal to have kids and that’s it, it’s over, we have kids.

“With me it was different. Marriage actually meant something, so I never asked her to marry me, even though we had our second child. I didn’t think that she would stick around, but she couldn’t live her life without me. So again, another place gone, another start from the beginning, another . . . From the first time it happened to the second time it happened I was already in the hole twice, meaning I took a big brunt the first time, but the second time I got so depressed and I was so down that I couldn’t even look at the future, I only saw the past. I didn’t know if anything was going to change, I didn’t have that butterfly feeling in my stomach anymore, I didn’t have that sense of pride of being home with my family, I didn’t have—all I did was work, that’s it. I threw myself into work, and the more I did that the more I read, the more times I went back to school, even though I had all these things that were behind me, I still felt unknowledgeable about life. I got up, I went to work, I came home, and went to work.

“When we started over on the third time, of course we had another child. To be honest with you, I don’t even remember the physical act of having another child, because it was so few and far between. I used to see people running out the back door of my house, and to save her face or herself, I hid that. Who really looks like the fool, her for doing it or me for allowing it? After out third I sat down with her and I had a very, very serious talk. And the talked just consisted of, it isn’t about you, it isn’t. It is about the children we have. If you don’t want what I have to offer, then please go, leave them with me, but go, don’t use them as a pawn or a meal ticket. Look at it as you are still in their lives. But I wanted her to literally agree with me on this rather than me take her and fight for it. Let’s be honest, she is still the mother of my children, she is still the mother and she gave birth to them, she has more rights to them than I do, in my heart, anyway. But she used them as a pawn, as a meal ticket.

“After five more years, after all the accusations of me running around with other women, after all the accusations of me lying about where I was or what I was doing, she never understood that. The income coming in and the paycheck reflected where I was, I always did the extra. If I didn’t have enough, I always made more. If I spent too much, I always made more. It got to the point where, at this time, she asked me for my hand in marriage and I hesitated for a year. Not saying I didn’t love her, I just wasn’t sure, and again I couldn’t look towards the future, because I was thinking about the past. At that point in my life I said I am going to take a step back, take it in and have that ‘ah-ha’ moment. And I did. I took many, many trips alone to reflect on what exactly happened and if it really mattered. Did it change the way I felt about the situation? It didn’t. It didn’t matter to me if she wanted to go out with her girlfriends and have drinks all night. It didn’t matter to me if she wanted to go on a weekend trip by herself, it didn’t matter to me if she wanted to bring her boyfriend to dinner. It didn’t matter. I loved her as a daughter, not as a wife. My days of dealing with that alone were difficult because nobody—I kept it all in. I stayed home every single night with my sons; we baked cookies, watched movies, I did every single thing possible to keep them entertained as a family. But once those lights went down it was a free-for-all. I got tired of holding her hair over the toilet, still with the verbal abuse, still with the manipulation, still with the drama, there was never a day when I said, ‘Did you have a good day today?’ And it got to the point that if there was nothing wrong in our household, she would bring other things from outside of the household and made it our problem.

“We were married, we had six years of bliss. She finally stopped hitting me, she finally calmed down, she finally stopped running around. Now mind you, we were young, we were very young. Just like her, I did the same, I did the same from thirteen to fifteen, that was my sowing my wild oats and for her it was just a little older. But she lived. I never told her where she could go, never told her where she needed to be, never told her she couldn’t wear what she wanted to wear. I even funded all her little extravaganzas. Whatever made her happy, so that I could possibly be happy.

“So six years of wonderful marriage, everything was in perfect order. And I had absolutely no complaints, none whatsoever. The intimacy part really didn’t matter; I wasn’t with her because I wanted intimacy—I wanted a different type of intimacy from her. I wanted to know her for her soul, from the inside of her very depth, rather than physically. Just like I would come home and if something was bothering me, I would verbalize it and I would get absolutely no answer; I would be talking to myself. After a while my sons, my oldest son started, his first love. Her parents owned a bar and that was it, one night we got an invitation and like I said I couldn’t keep up with him and that was it. It all started all over again, went back to square one. Couldn’t look at me in my face anymore. Now the kids are older and now they are seeing this, so what they didn’t understand is that what they saw in the year 2013, what they saw from their mother was exactly what happened when they were children. Again, I did the same, I didn’t fight, I didn’t scream, I didn’t yell; the first time I was told to leave, I left. I was miserable. It wasn’t that I missed her, it wasn’t that I cared, I never went one day without hugging my kids, I never went one day without telling them I loved them, I never went one day without showing them what I have seen in my life as a person, growing up in my household with my parents.

“I knew they weren’t getting that anymore. I beat myself up, over and over and over again, of the simplicity of me just standing up for myself and saying, ‘Those are my kids too. If anybody deserves to continue the love and affection that I showed them, it should be me.’ My father gave me a piece of advice a long time ago, where he told me that ‘I was his only son and he would tell me that I needed to break the family history.’ This has happened to all of us, but when I left the first time I was accused of being with someone else and she was having my child. That was the whole reason behind it, but what she didn’t understand was neither one of us could have kids, not why wife nor I. When my wife couldn’t have them anymore I felt like, we are a couple and I am in this with you, we will do this together. After the humiliation that she put me through, just by saying that, everybody turned their back on me. Everyone who always asks me for everything, for everything, and I helped with nothing in return, you didn’t owe me a favor, I went out of my way to help them. They waked away from me after twenty-three years like I was nothing. The only person that never talked bad about me, the only person that looked at the positive side, so that I could get rid of that negative side that they had, and there’s the kicker.

“We divorced in 2013. I took one bag of clothes and one car. When I divorced I sold her everything we owned for a dollar and I walked away. Within six months I was paying her bills again. Within two months after that she as knocking at my door: ‘I can’t do this without you. I need you. You can tell me how much of a piece of shit I was. I know I overdid it with the drinking. I need you in my life.’ At that point, I was done. I said, ‘I will help you, because you are the mother of my children, but that is it. I know you are happy, I know you moved on.’ Truth be told, I wasn’t, I didn’t move on, I wasn’t happy. I just started growing a backbone. I started focusing on the little things, enjoying the phone calls from the kids when they needed something and happy to help when I could provide for them and still give them that positive role model, figure that they needed in their life.

“Even when they disrespected me, even when they called me names, I never, not once returned with another fire. ‘I respect you, I love you, I know you are upset, I get it, but I am here, I am here.’ The words that they used, not all the time, but at some points, they hurt more than they actually know, because I didn’t raise them that way. One of my biggest mistakes was, I said, ‘You can say or do anything you want to me, but don’t disrespect your mother.’ She never earned it, and I just gave mine away. At one point in my life I didn’t need, want anything, didn’t need anything, didn’t want anything. It was those six years that I had of bliss, six years of bliss.

“So, she ends up trying to commit suicide in my kitchen, at the same time she tried to do the same to me, in my kitchen. I told her she needed to go to therapy and actually tell the truth, just let it out. As a matter of fact, just tell me the truth, maybe you will be able to look at me in my face again, just confess, go to church, do something. But you need to get that out because it’s killing you inside and with it you are killing our family. My boys started acting like her, they started kicking things and throwing things, things I never saw before, just destroying everything they touched. One by one it went right down the line. I am thankful that it didn’t happen to all three of them at the same time.

“But one by one, all down the line, I saw the change, and it was very, very quickly on both routes, went from negative back to positive very quickly. But they had their moment. So, after a year of me taking her in and spending time with her, not the kids, just her. At this point the kids are adults and they are going to do what they want to do when they want to do it, but I remarried her, because she asked me to. I don’t know why I did it, probably because she told me my whole life that I was nothing, that I was no-good, that I was a cheater and a liar and I was ugly, I was boring. I looked at myself and I said, yeah I am, I’m getting where I feel that way, but it was just in my ear all the time, all the time. I became depressed, I came to a point, where I wasn’t suicidal, but I didn’t care about myself anymore, I stopped going to the gym, I stopped running, I stopped my hobbies, I stopped living. I am in a better place, but I stopped living back then, I didn’t realize that I put all the blame on her, I said this was her problem, that she did this to me, thinking that is why I couldn’t heal. I stepped back and said, what was my role, what did I do, how where my actions any different than hers? She walked away, I walked away, she wanted to fight, I told her you’re right, but I enabled her, coddled her, coaxed her, I didn’t let her suffer, I didn’t let her go through hard times. I was always the one who made it okay; no matter what it was, within thirty minutes, whatever problem it was, was solved, within thirty minutes, sometimes within thirty seconds. Didn’t matter, but I had a lot to do with it. It’s not all her fault. When I took that responsibility and I didn’t have to make up excuses for either one of us anymore. I got fed up with myself. That’s what I did, I didn’t care; I didn’t care if I did end up getting hit by a car, I didn’t look both ways when I crossed the street anymore. I would drive very fast, I would take out my frustrations on myself by not eating, not sleeping right. When I got to the point when I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started feeling encouragement towards the fact that I did spend the first twenty years of my life one way and then realized I still had another twenty to go, maybe even forty, hopefully sixty.

“So I raised my family, I was there suffering, taking the beatings, the scars, the smacks, the put-downs, the lies—I took them. And now I realize that what I wanted to do twenty years ago, I‘ve been accomplishing it, easily. A lot of people don’t have any idea what it takes to be a person of depth and you really, really have to fall on both ends of the spectrum. I’ve been very, very loved, and I have had many, many highs, and either one, I still wasn’t happy. So I reflected on everything I’ve done, everything I wanted to do, and everything I wanted to accomplish but never succeeded, where I went wrong—that includes my marriage, being a father and husband. I worked on myself, but not in a negative way. I didn’t work on myself to be, ‘last time I was too nice, so now I will be a dick,’ or ‘all women are the same,’ they’re not. And not all men are the same either. Once they come to realize that there is a difference, being kind, gentle, and wise doesn’t make you a punk, doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you less of a man if you become domesticated, it means you know how to take care of yourself and whoever walks through that door and wants to spend the rest of their life with you.

“When you’re part of the team it is a beautiful thing, and you don’t have to pick. Someone will pick you, once they see you as who you are. They will always stay the same, someone just like you, someone just like her. Once you stop looking at people for what they look like and taking the fact of how they make you feel, the Zen you will feel at that point surpasses anything that I have ever had in my hands, physically, that I could say ‘Hey, this is mine,’ because it is no longer in my hands, it’s in my heart. Sometimes I feel as if all the things that I have been through, every single time I took a step forward, I took three steps back, because I never stopped and looked at what I did. I always blamed everybody else, I always said ‘they did it.’ But why did I allow it? Because I didn’t want it, make a fuss over something that was so small and minute that it didn’t matter. It just chipped away at my life, one piece at a time, and at the bottom of it all, what was it that broke me? Someone left that last swallow in the orange juice container and put it back in the fridge—that would be the last thing that broke me, that’s how minute it was, that it just picked away at me. It just kept going and going and going until the point where I said enough is enough. I don’t care if you don’t like me, I don’t care if you don’t want to see me, I don’t care what you think of me, I don’t even care if you feel that I am a good person, it doesn’t matter. It matters what I feel, here.

“But when you have unconditional love it is not for a person, when you love everyone unconditionally until they prove themselves different, where you can’t help but say, ‘I’m sorry, but I am not the one that you need. You have to go that way.’ It’s an unconditional love for humanity, for every single living person, thing. How could you not and that takes us to a whole other level? Some people like to go into church or yoga, meditation, which is all fine, enjoy it. I’ll join you.”

What helps you?

“Helping others who really deserve my help, helps me. I don’t expect anything in return. I just took everything that I did in my household and spread it out through the world. That’s all I do, and I enjoy it. There is nothing that I could say, ‘Hey, that is mine,’ because I don’t want it. I just want to see it make a difference. It only takes one and then there is another and another and another, and pretty soon the good will outweigh the bad. But that’s when the bad comes, during the good. And when I mean bad, I don’t mean like, they’re bad, they’re just hurting, you know. We all have some form of hurt. Me, I wanted to stay married and watch my grandchildren and rock on the porch and take care of my ex-wife while she was ill and then live a happy-ever-after life, just live happy. That’s all I ever wanted. I wanted to grow old with her, it’s too bad she didn’t want the same.

“I am very, very finicky who I will put in her replacement, very finicky. What’s the rush? I waited here for four or five years, I got another four or five years in me.”

You mentioned unconditional love. What have you discovered about unconditional love towards oneself?

“When you love yourself within, there is no second-guessing, there is no question that you are going to do the right thing for yourself, there is absolutely—there’s no better feeling than to wake up in the morning refreshed and say, ‘Today is going to be a good day.’ And then you start a little program for yourself, thirty days, you do anything thirty days, it becomes habit, so the month of August was my thirty-day revival. I got up every morning and made my bed, then I removed the towel from the stand, I undressed as I walked through my bedroom to my kitchen, I didn’t change a thing, did exactly the same thing every day. I got to the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, looked in the mirror and said, ‘You are good enough to say good morning to yourself. You say good morning to everybody else in the street, but you never say good morning to yourself. Good morning! You look lovely.’ I did it, took a shower, got dressed, made myself breakfast. At that point, I use to make breakfast for everybody else, but I never made breakfast for myself. And my TV was my window, I drew the blinds, I watched the traffic and the lights, I knew what time it was for me to leave for work by the way the horizon was changing colors. I stopped watching the news, I stopped watching TV altogether. I didn’t set an alarm clock, I got up every morning at the same exact time, I did my laundry the same day, I washed my car the same way. I did everything I needed to do for myself the same for thirty days, now I do it all with my eyes closed. Every morning I get up chipper, every morning I say to myself, ‘Good morning, Sexy. I’ll see you in the shower.’ Go to work, come home from work, travel, I just—I worked on everything that was missing, that I expected someone else to do for me, that was my partner. That’s what I did, and if felt that morning where I had to smack myself on the ass and say, ‘Hey, Good-lookin’, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I did that, It didn’t matter, but I did it for myself, and people started noticing a change in me. My color started coming back, I started gaining a little bit more weight, I started looking more physically better.

“I didn’t fill my space with empty time, I filled it with positive movement. If I saw someone in need and if I had the means to help them, without a question I helped them. If I saw trash on the floor outside, I got rubber gloves on the side pocket of my car. We all live here. There you go. So I chose to lead by example. If more people see me doing weird little quirky stuff that needs to get done, perhaps they will do it too. I even noticed a change in my neighborhood. The kids used to be outside hanging around across the street and down the street, and they would throw wrappers on the ground and when they saw me picking it up, they were like, ‘You work here?’ I said no, I don’t work here, I’m just picking up the trash, but I didn’t yell at them, ‘Why are you always throwing trash?’ They looked at me like, you go out of your way to do that? Now they pick up after themselves. If they need help picking up after themselves, I help them. So I help—what worked for me was I did everything that I needed to do for thirty days. I paid more attention to myself. It wasn’t like I was being selfish. I was being selfless.

“Everything that I wanted someone to do for me, I did it for me.”

What have you learned about yourself through this process?

“I learned that I am pretty much amazing, that’s what I learned. I learned that I have the patience of a saint, I have the strength of a bull, I have people in my life who care and not because they have to, but I have come a long way from where I was to where I am, and I love it, I really do, I love it. There are days where you think to yourself, is this ever going to end? There is that fear of, if I don’t continue this is it going to end, am I not going feel like this forever again. Do I enjoy it now, because this is my six-year break, and I say no. Why would I ever stop loving myself?”

Do you have a favorite quote or mantra, song lyric or piece of advice that someone has offered you that resonates with you that you would like to share?

“There are so many, there are so many. But I would probably say, ‘Do unto others as they do unto you.’

What does that mean to you?

“The complete opposite, that’s exactly what it means to me. I would give you the shirt off my back, but not expect it in return. That is a definite. So, ‘Do unto others as they would do unto you.’ It’s more like a reflection in the mirror, as I was speaking of. Telling yourself, so you are actually telling yourself. It is kind of deep, you got to like really think into that and turn it around, it’s got to go to the opposite direction.

“I don’t think that I would be in the new place that I am if I didn’t look into myself. If I stopped worrying about what everybody else thought, if I didn’t stop doing that, if I didn’t look at what I did.

“First person I forgave was everyone else, but I didn’t forgive myself. Didn’t forgive myself. Now I have, I am at that point. I have forgiven myself along with everybody else and I just didn’t do it, I earned it. I worked at it, I definitely worked at it.”

How has it felt to talk about these experiences and feeling with me today?

“Liberating! Liberating! I have so many things that I had buried but in the last five months I removed. I can’t remember everything that happened to me, before I used to be. Wow! Now it’s like little pieces of my life are being replaced with the positive pieces of my life, and in turn they are now disappearing from my memory bank where I can make space for new memories, for good ones, for bad ones, for ones that hurt and ones that make you happy, but new. Was a different mindset and a different type of outlook on life that really makes me feel wonderful.”

Do you think it’s possible that by sharing your story you may potentially inspire and bring someone else some hope to move forward on their own journey and make some new memories for themselves?

“Hmmm. Well, if there is anything that you are going to take from this, from my story, off of me, the most important thing that you have to do is look at yourself. If you are going to be a judge on anything, lead by example, judge yourself. Don’t ever feel like you don’t have to do something because someone else isn’t doing it. Every single person in this world at one point in time, no matter how much money they have, no matter how smart they are, no matter how many times they have fallen, they need to love themselves—and that is not being greedy and that is not being needy, it’s being real. You can’t ever love anybody, unconditionally, until you unconditionally love yourself. When you say ‘Hey man, I love you,’ but when you turn around and put judgment on that you have to look back into yourself again, keep doing it, just keep looking into yourself. There are going to be so many things that you are going to pick away, one thing at a time, but with age comes wisdom.

“Even if you sit and reflect every ten minutes with your eyes closed in your office, in your car, for some people in an alley, none of that is okay, then it’s time to do something about it.”