Promises Kept and Promises Broken

The moon refused to hide our sins just as the sun denied us our blessing.

Perhaps it shined brightly but all was lost in the twilight of the moment.

Once we had been kings but hubris had stolen our crowns.

Promises Kept, Promises Broken

The storm left us on opposite sides of the great river and for a long while you could watch us stare across the water at the other.

If you listened closely you could hear one call for the other and occasionally catch the reply of the other.

But what you couldn’t see is how neither could hear the one or the other or the frustration that came with it

He watched her give up on all she had promised and sworn not to do and wondered if she did it because she wanted to or if she had to.

That was what led to his deciding she didn’t care if he lived or died. He declared she saw him as a notch and a conquest and swore to give up on her.

It was her mistake and her lost, none would love her better, harder or more deeply.

Exhaustion Sets In

The big boy decided he wanted his birthday dinner to be at The Cheesecake Factory in Southlake.

So off we went, accompanied by all four of his grandparents we wandered in knowing there would be a bit of a wait, but not really expecting it to be a full hour.

Don’t know why we thought otherwise because if we had been in LA it would have easily been that or longer and this location is across from a theater in prime shopping.

But there wasn’t a particular schedule that had to be followed so we went over to Barnes and Noble to wait for the call to eat.

We wandered the shelves and at some point I noticed I was next to the romance section. There were 1,938,838 different books there.

I grabbed a few and flipped through the pages and wondered if maybe that is what I should focus upon.

If I want to be a professional writer maybe that is the hook. It was the inspiration for the goofy crap I wrote before all this.

Hell, if those shelves are any indication I could write about past relationships and make a living at it.

I could tell you about the girls who loved me and those that hated me and all that came in between and make a buck.

A couple of ‘graphs about how she made me promise never to let go or the one that demanded I never speak to her again and then screamed at me for not doing so might go a long way.

I can see it now.

“She said she never said I love you first, but made an exception with me. I asked her why and she said it was because she was addicted and had never felt anything like that before.

Suddenly we were overcome with passion and found ourselves rolling upon the floor covered in flour.

One day it would be an amazing story, the one we’d share about how we made inside the flour factory next to a giant flour sifter.

Yeah, that was the time I had to save her life when she asked me what I was looking at and I said ‘look¬† Yeast!’

She laughed hard and gagged harder.

For a moment I feared having to explain to her family about how she was hurt because of unsafe sex practices in a flour factory.

Would her children see me as a the Brave Baker that saved their mom or just some life like version of the Pillsbury Doughboy.

Fortunately that was one crust I’ll never have to crack so the yolk was on them.

Is that goofy?

Yeah, it is.

I could share some tales about things that really happened and it would be pretty damn goofy too. I have a few stories I could throw out that would make a few heads spin.

It would cross the ‘kiss-and-tell’ threshold but I don’t know if they would care or if I would. Hell, I don’t know if they give a damn what I do anymore so maybe it doesn’t make a difference.

After more than a decade of blogging I have encountered situations in which people complained about stories I shared and asked that I delete posts or adjust them.

Sometimes I honored the request and sometimes I didn’t, it was always on a case-by-case basis.

But I do understand there are some boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed or at least carefully evaluated.

I usually give the most focus to stories involving my children because I want them to get a chance to develop their own digital footprint without outside influences.

Adults are different and while I can’t say I will write about everything I can’t say I won’t either.

Life is life and the choices we make as adults are in theory grounded in logic and reason or so we like to pretend.

What I know for certain is that truth really is stranger than fiction and that I have learned to never say never because things happen.

So while I want to say one day people will read my stories and I’ll make a living from it there is no guarantee that said living will come from novels that become classics.

‘Cuz life has proven to me that sometimes shit happens and I could just as easily be JW the cheap romance novelist as anything else.

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