The Reality of Wright and Wrong
Page 28
Maybe you didn’t fit her anymore. Maybe her style changed and you no longer matched her outfits. Maybe you were reserved for the rare, special occasion.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Whatever the reason, you found yourself in a box with a ballerina on top. Though, she hadn’t danced in a while. The music hadn’t played in a while. The outside light hadn’t peeked inside in a while. And all along, there you sat.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
One day, the box moved. It fell. Tumbled to the ground where the splinters and long lost jewels scattered about. The ballerina would never twirl again. The music would never play again. But you’d be safe, Painite. You’re rare. Precious. Valuable and worthy. Surely you’d be found and remembered. Worn again. Shown off like a brilliant diamond.
No.
You were swept up. Swept away. Carried out with the pieces of wood and broken mirror and shattered dancer. Lost in the shuffle; mistaken for something else.
Something less rare.
Something less precious.
Something less valuable and worthy.
Lost. Moving from one place to the next. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting to be found. To be taken home. To be loved and cherished again. To be worn by her again.
The heavens cried. Their tears carrying you away until the tides found you. The current picked you up, cradled you, and sent you on a journey.
I, too, was on a journey of my own when you washed up on my beach. At my feet. Practically in my lap. I saw you. I knew you—your value and worth.
With you in my hands, I smiled. I laughed. I danced and I sang. I felt like I had been found. Like I had been looking for you, Painite, all my life.
Yet we both knew that happiness would only last a moment—a brief moment. For you weren’t mine...never were. I wasn’t a thief; I should not have taken something that wasn’t mine to begin with. So with an aching heart, I set you back out to sea. Back on your way to the one you want more than me.
The surf lapped at my ankles like hands, desperately trying to drag me to you. Yet I didn’t move. Didn’t budge. I stood at the edge, feet buried in the sand for ten thousand lifetimes. Crying ten thousand tears. Begging. Pleading. Hoping and praying you’d come back.
But you never did.
The rare ones never do.
—Kristen Clark
Leddy’s Notes
I don’t even know where to begin with this one. This book was easy and hard for so many different reasons. When I first started, the words flowed with little to no effort from me. They just poured out of me, as if they needed to be heard. But after a few chapters, my personal life took a hard hit, and writing became difficult. The story was still there, yearning to be told, yet I lacked the motivation to get it out.
Writing has always been my outlet. My therapy. From a very early age, if I was going through something, I’d work it out with fictional characters. Rather than write a story about people going through what I was, I’d use metaphors, create parallel issues for the characters to deal with. It was my way of taking a step back to sort through what was plaguing me. I’ve always been good at giving advice and spinning a situation so my friends can see the other side—devil’s advocate, if you will. But I’ve never been good at doing those things for myself (or using my own amazing advice). So, writing has allowed me to give myself the kind of advice I’d give my loved ones.
Brogan and Mercy’s story helped me in so many ways, but at the same time, it hit a little too close to home, which is probably the reason I didn’t want to write very often. After all, I am the queen of procrastination. It’s much easier to fix other people’s lives than it is my own. But I digress. When I did sit down and write, I poured my heart and soul into their world. A lot of their emotion was personal, something that came from a place inside me I couldn’t deal with on my own, so I lent it all to the characters. It was cathartic in a way. It was also very emotionally draining.
I didn’t want to finish the book, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Part of me feared I’d get to the end without discovering any personal resolution. Another part of me clung to superstition and believed that the end of the story would signify some sort of finality to a relationship I don’t want to lose. However, a large part of me didn’t want to type “the end” because I just loved Brogan and Mercy so much. They are such a big piece of me, and the thought of closing their book pained me. I didn’t want to let them go.
I’d like to say that finishing the book means I’ve worked through my own issues. But I can’t. If anything, I think their journey made me take an even closer look into my life. It made me think of things I never wanted to, made me analyze myself and the people around me. It made me appreciate many relationships, while leaving me to question others. But I guess I can’t complain. As long as it got me thinking, that’s all that matters…right?
My only hope is that Mercy and Brogan has touched others the same way. That their story has allowed others to think and feel and analyze. That it’s made you appreciate the journeys you’ve had to go through to get where you’re at, or offer you hope that you’ll get where you want to be.
If there’s one thing I can say that I’ve taken away from their story, it would be to trust in fate. That very little in life is an actual coincidence. And to never allow fear to keep you from your destiny. Through this couple, I was able to learn that if you want something bad enough, if you believe in something enough, then it’s worth fighting for. But you can’t be the only one on the battlefield. And just because it doesn’t immediately work out in your favor, doesn’t mean it never will. Have faith that everything will end up the way it’s supposed to, and nothing can go wrong.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
Find your will, and the way will present itself.
Acknowledgments
Once again, I couldn’t have gotten this far without my family. Every single one of you. The ones I share blood with, the ones I gained through marriage, and the ones I’ve adopted into my life by choice. Your support is immeasurable. Thank you all, for everything. I love you.
Steph—you are my woobie, my security blanket, the one person I can always count on when I’m homesick. We’ve been through lots of highs and lows, sunshine and rain, laughter and tears. And there will be loads more ahead of us. The one constant is that we go through it all together. You really are the ham to my cheese, the tuna to my fish, and the crack to my pipe. Love you, Woobs!
Kristie—since you can read my mind now, there doesn’t seem to be any point in wasting your time reading what I have to say to you. You’re welcome.
Crystal—I told you a long time ago that one of these days, you’d see proof that you inspire me. And I must say, there are lots of things in this one that were inspired by you. I hope you approve, because if you don’t, then you get no more characters in my books! LOL! Love you, Best Friend. ITS for life!
Marlo—I absolutely adore you…more than you know. You’re my lobster, and even though I do a shitty job at proving to you how much you mean to me, you’ve stuck by me. For that, you’re a saint. You’ve definitely secured your place in heaven! Here’s to another book I wouldn’t have been able to do without you! (PS: I can’t wait to come see your new house!!!)
Amanda—I shluv the shit outta you, Biffle. Let’s hope this year gets you back at my side, where you belong. No lie…my life has been chaotic without you. It’s time you leave that nine-to-five behind and come save me (from myself)!!
Brit—I’ve always believed that people come and go in your life; some stay for a minute, others for hours or years, and the occasional few who stay forever. Nevertheless, every relationship serves a purpose (whether it’s for you or them). No matter how long God decides to let me keep you, I know your purpose in my life is everlasting, and the role you’ve played will never be forgotten. No matter what happens, I’ll forever love the piss out of you and your socks!
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br /> Mila—here’s to new beginnings and a beautiful friendship! I “hart” you!!
Emily (Social Butterfly PR)—I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you! Thank you so much for sticking by me and putting up with my bullshit. I know it’s not easy. You deserve a medal for all you’ve done for me. Seriously, a really big, shiny, gold medal.
Robin (Wicked by Design Covers)—you give my books a face. Best designer ever!! You rock!
Kristie—don’t forget I can read your mind too. That wasn’t nice. Take it back!
Kev Murtagh—I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to use your words in my book. You truly are a lyrical genius, and I pray you never put your pen away. I hope you aren’t disappointed in the way Brogan used your poem…I tried to add more guts and gore to make it less sappy, but the critics weren’t having it. Seriously though, thank you.
Candace—believe it or not, but you were one of the biggest influences when it came to this book. Your advice to read poetry is what made this story what it is. Without you, Brogan would’ve been two-dimensional, and my writing would’ve been subpar. I will forever be grateful for coming across your book and finding you, and beyond thankful that you didn’t tell me to fuck off when I reached out to you! LOL!! When you’re amongst the big names, I’ll get to say I know you!!
Angela—no matter what part you play in my life, or how long we go without talking due to our crazy lives, just know that you mean the world to me. I value your friendship and loyalty more than you know. You’re the best!
Kristie—you about ready to move in with me yet??
Danielle—it’s about time you realize you’re worth more than to be some bitch’s bitch! It’s your turn to shine, girl! Go blind everyone with your talent! You have no idea how excited I am to see you succeed on your own. Love you to pieces!
Saya—just when I thought I’d never find an editor who could fill the shoes of my old one (seriously, she was my grammar bible), you came along, and I can’t thank you enough for taking me on. I appreciate all you’ve taught me and all the time you’ve given to explain things to me. You really do make me a better writer.
Bloggers—I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, you guys truly are the unsung heroes behind us all. I honestly believe none of us would be able to live our dreams without the support of each and every one of you. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
Readers—whether this is the first book of mine you’ve picked up, if you’ve been with me from the beginning, or if you’re somewhere in between, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a chance. I value every opinion that’s given, and it’s because of you that I strive to better my work. It’s because of you I continue to write. And it’s because of you I get to do what I love.
Kristie—just think…if you lived here, I could be eating a cupcake right now.
About the Author
Leddy Harper had to use her imagination often as a child. She grew up the only girl in a house full of boys. At the age of fourteen, she decided to use that imagination and wrote her first book, and never stopped. She often calls writing her therapy, using it as a way to deal with issues through the eyes of her characters.
She is now a mother of three girls, leaving her husband as the only man in a house full of females. The decision to publish her first book was made as a way of showing her children to go after whatever it is they want to. Love what you do and do it well. And to teach them what it means to overcome their fears.
Also by Leddy Harper
Home No More
My Biggest Mistake
Falling to Pieces
Take Your Time
Beautiful Boy
Eminent Love
Resuscitate Me
Lust
Silenced
Dane
I Do(n’t)
The Roommate ‘dis’Agreement
Love Rerouted
Kiss My Ash
The (Half) Truth