Keri’s last chapter

silouhet of profile of woman

Keri’s last chapter…. Or at least  an experiment, starting from the end and going forward….

After reconnecting, Keri was wary. But slowly let down her guard. Though there was never an innocent place for them to land. They said  everything and more. All the things that they ever wanted to say after a lifetime of not being able to.  It was almost like going under water and gasping for air as they hit the surface, taking a breath and going under over and over again. Trying not to respond.  Not wanting to hurt anyone. Weaning themselves, from the connection.  Most of their contact was through sporadic writing.  It was hard to stop.  A year would go by and then one or the other would break the hiatus with a bit of news. His dad died, his wife died, Keri’s friend died, there was always something, always a reason to reach out to the other, and maybe always would be, until God forbid, one of them died.

Keri knew now, that  she’d been deeply in love with the boy,  at least as much as a young girl could be, and recently had come to terms with the fact that her love for Jack the man, seemed to be convoluted with all the memories of Jack the boy.

Though through the intensity of their exchange her heart seemed to explode, Saying things she was afraid to say before but having nothing to lose now. It was empowering and in the beginning she was ruthless. Jack had no idea how crystal clear her memories would be. He’d found her first. From what he could tell, it was apparent that she was married with a family. He told himself that he was going to just ask for forgiveness and move on. Nothing more. But she surprised him by letting him into her life a little more than he’d hoped for. At first the exchange was very guarded and it pained him to know that she feared him. But slowly she began to share memories and he told her that “this time” IT would be about her, that he could take it.

For several months their exchange was lost in a fantasy, when they talked or wrote, they both imagined the younger versions of one another. It was hard to grasp the reality of what their relationship had become. Keri worked non-stop on her book the first year after they’d stopped the contact. And then, something just died inside of her. The need to write about it seemed to lessen. The last time she’d heard his voice gave her a sad panicked feeling, much like when she was a girl, trying to break up with the boy she’d loved so much. In a time she felt that there’d been no place to run.

Now she felt unsettled. Needing  a place to land to write and remember. And so she wrote….

computer2

Why haven’t I learned to trust my gut? My first punch of intuition? Why didn’t I run like the wind like I did the last time we saw each other when I was so much younger and afraid of you? Did you know that  I hid from you? That I hated you? And yet I loved you, she typed  in agony. She stopped suddenly and clicked print. And read. She printed another and another page and crossed things out and added things and all at once she was inspired and for the first time began really writing.

siloette of writer standing up

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Just Like Magic

older couple at the beach

I never thought I’d feel like this again,

And yet…Nothing has changed~

For once again it is about your pain.

couple in back seat

You asked me to forgive you and so I did.

For after all I said, we were “just kids.”

sad couple on beach

Forgiveness is such a simple word,

almost like a magical choice,

an eraser that removes the memories,

of all those times you raised your voice.

Or the silence of  a hundred nights,

from the aftermath of a thousand fights.

Just like magic and POUF it’s gone.

A simple act that rights all wrong.

I might have been able to forget but in the end,

You made it all about  you again.

sad man reading

Keri London

2011©

Revisions

typerwriter keys

Coming back and finding work that is half way done. Work that I once thought as acceptable, perhaps even good. Work that you took your time to read. Work that I actually shared here! Yikes! Well, I am a little embarrassed. As I read and reread stuff that I thought was good enough, good enough to share. Now, I see it just wasn’t. Too many of the same words, too many times I  said the same name on one page, too many times I said words like, had or actually or finally, over and over again! And I see so many mistakes. And yet, I know I have something. Something that made some of you follow me all the way through, so saying it is not worth my effort to continue is not being very grateful to the many of you that took the time to read this story. Besides, I know that I have a story to tell.

In the course of the first page to right now, I have lived through so many emotions since. I have ridden the proverbial wave and I truly think that my story has evolved. And that I am stronger now. That in my head my story and the reason that I want to tell it has changed. And if I’d tried to finish it back when I thought that I’d written the last page, it never would have had a chance. But now, I really do think that at least in my head and the bones of what lie here, I just might have a story worth telling.

writers trash can

The bones are still there. But now it is more than a story of a young girl, trying to save a young boy and his demons. It is more than a story about first loves and abuse, about mental illness. It is about a woman and her scars that reappear when her own daughter starts dating  and about mid-life crisis and trying to go back and right the wrongs and almost losing everything she holds dear. It is about the young girl, running head on into the older woman she is now.  Past her prime and even  middle age, just now finding her voice. After all of these years she seeks the validation that she lost all those years ago. Just now being allowed to say the things she’d always wanted to say.

Today, we find ourselves inside a world of communication that once was non existent. Where once when we lost touch, a lost love was truly lost except by chance. A lost phone number, a changed address and pouf they were lost. Now through social media, in a click of a key and people are finding each other. It’s crazy. And sometimes if by chance, there was no closure, or the ending was bad, people are trying to right old wrongs, and  personal Pandora’s Boxes have been being opened.

At first my story was about the abuse, how subtly young girls allow it. How difficult it is to admit to someone for so many reasons  that you are in a place that is hard to share. It is the story of many young girls, and I feel it is still worth telling. But I think that I needed this time to go back over the pages, over the bones, and revise just a little. To also tell the end of the story. So I am back to tell it.

To those who have hung in here, to my writing mentors who have lovingly supported me, to my readers who have followed me here. You guys are the best! I’m still here, my story is still being written. Now let the revisions begin!

typed to be continued

 

The One That Got Away

sad break up

It all seems like a dream now,

you finding me, all these years later,

trying to pull back the years from yesterday.

I let you in, I closed my eyes and jumped.

All the years in-between vanished.

It was just you and me in that moment,

skin against skin, hearts beating, raging, stopping.

breathing, tasting, rushing.

Breathless memories crashing, youth returning.

Falling in love with each other or just the past?

Never really truly knowing.

And the struggle between the reality and the fantasy,

well it never let us hang on tight enough.

You slipped away just as quickly as you appeared,

beyond all of my values and morals and what people might say.

I allowed you in.

Why?

Maybe because I still loved you.

Maybe because I hated you so much for hurting me

that I wanted you to know what you lost,

What you could have had,

What you didn’t fight for all those years ago,

And maybe it was a little of both

Maybe it is just nice to know now  that there is someone out there…

someone wanting me,

that believes that I was the one that got away.

To Not Know Where You Went…

Some days I can wake up and…

you won’t be the first thing on my mind

crying girll 

But slowly, as my day begins,

you are there as my heart rewinds

peeking through the front door

I still can’t go a whole day,

but now I can go several hours,

without my heart feeling  as if it’s been

scraped upon the ground

sad woman2

I don’t look for you as I once did,

But I don’t need to, you’re always there

lonely window

Though I don’t wander through your life anymore

It’s not because I don’t care.

I just had to find my way back to my life now

to find a way to let go somehow….

phone message2

Sometimes it’s harder to catch my breath

as your memory fills my head like a scent

And other times it is like a relief

just to not know where you went.

Keri…

 letting go poem2

“Just Kids”

Dear Jack,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Wow. What a blast from the past. I am literally sitting here in disbelief that it is really you. I went on a search site years ago, (probably the one that you mentioned) and goggled a bunch of names. Yours was among them. I am sure. I’ve also wondered about you, I mean even if you were still alive. By the way, there is nothing to forgive; we were just kids back then.

Keri

And she clicked SEND. And immediately felt a sick feeling.

mouse

 

 

 

Why did I say that?! Keri berated herself. All of these years, she wanted the chance to really talk to Jack and tell him how much he hurt her and now she had the chance and relinquished it.

frustrated on computer

 

Keri let out a loud sigh and padded down the stairs to refill her coffee cup. She poured herself another cup and let the aroma envelope her. As she looked out at the gray day. It was spring and everything was green. She watched as a school bus drove by and remembered the mornings of rushing Brynne off to school and felt a familiar twinge pulling at her heart strings and rebuffed it. As she admonished herself to not go there today. She never knew that midlife crisis was really an actual thing or that an empty nest would hurt so much but for a while now, Keri felt stuck. She would not go there today she told herself and then remembered Jack and went up the stairs and found his reply waiting.

Oh my Dearest Keri,

I was so afraid you wouldn’t forgive me. I am not proud of the way I behaved back when we were kids. Or how I treated you. I have learned a lot since those days and hope that I didn’t leave you too damaged and remember the good times as well. I do.

Jack

Keri stared at the screen and noticed how quickly he’d clung to the “just kids” comment. She found it ironic that a few months earlier shortly after Brynne left for school, she began remembering the times in the journal. One morning, when Tim was on another business trip, she was in the shower and the memories came in waves, like flash backs, they hit one after another, as she began to reflect upon her life and those days of abuse she experienced from Jack, she used to believe that most of the times had been emotional and never really allowed herself to focus on the physical part of the abuse. But for some reason that morning it hit her and she collapsed crying in the shower thinking aloud. “You hurt me; you really, really hurt me!” As she recalled the physical part of the pain she cried, whispering in sobs over and over again “You hurt me.”

shower crying

 

The pain was still raw and so she wrote about it. Now, as she remembered that post she realized that on her face book page she shared links to her blog and wondered if when he’d been on her page looking at her pictures, he also might have seen the link to her blog. She frowned and considered everything, asking herself if she even cared. He knew it happened, what could he say? But she did care and panicked a little and it all felt a little too familiar and she said to herself; “Get a grip Keri, you don’t have to ever walk on eggshells again!”