Saturday, June 21, 2014

La Douleur Exquise

La douleur exquise is the exquisite pain
of wanting you
of seeing you
every day
and knowing each time
that your smile
and your eyes
and everything about you
belongs to someone else.

La douleur exquise is the beautiful torture
of hearing your voice
of seeing your text
of watching your fingers on your drink
and knowing each time
that you can never be mine.

There are days,
minutes where I think
that maybe this time,
this time maybe
maybe you will see me,
and every time
that moment fades,
that dream fails,
and you are gone
like smoke on the breeze.

La douleur exquise is waking at night
wrapped about a pillow,
dried tears on my cheeks,
because my heart dreamed of you
holding onto me.

Two years I’ve waited,
watched and hoped,
and many more I’ll linger
hoping the day will come
when you realize
that I’ve been here the entire time.

I thought la douleur exquise
was only for teenaged girls
dreaming of men in Hollywood movies,
but here I am
and you work two cubicles from mine.

It’s silly,
to sit at my desk,
tense all over
when you walk by and say
“Good morning.”

And that one time we danced
and I shouted numbers
at your face,
how could you have known
especially when you fled
that my heart beat so loud
I thought you could hear it.

But the next day
she reminded me by mistake
that you belong to her
(she doesn’t belong to you)
by inviting me to your show.
And that right there
is la douleur exquise.

(I'm not great at poetry.)

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Hey Guys...I'm Alive

This is awkward for me, surprisingly.  It's been such a long time since I've been here.  I should explain my two plus-year absence.

In a single word, it was life.  Life got in the way, as it always seems to do, and I was swept up in it.  Quite a bit has changed since then.  A bad relationship ended (i.e., tossed out of the house in the middle of the night), I returned back home to live with my parents, I found a new job and have enjoyed moderate success there, and...I wrote a book.

Don't go rushing off to the bookstore or Amazon looking for Marlena Cassidy's best selling novel.  It's not published.  A few agents have seen it, but unsurprisingly (to me at least), I haven't received any responses.  But Marlena!  Agents need time!   It's been about five months.  I'm not expecting a response any time soon.

I'm not bitter or upset (much).  Honestly, it was a very eye-opening experience, and I'm definitely not done writing.  I've started on novel number two and am about 26,000 words into it.  I write at lunch mostly, and some on the weekends.  We'll see where this one goes.

My fingers are shaking a bit as I type.  It's been so very long, and I've missed all of you so much.  I had so many friends here, so many people who read this posts and were so supportive, and I pretty much abandoned all of you when the going got tough.  But I've thought about you all so much.  When people ask me if I'm part of a writer's club or if I've thought about joining one and I come up with some silly excuse (Brooklyn is so far away, why would I take the train all the way out to Brooklyn?), I've thought about this blog and felt very, very guilty.  And silly.  There was really no excuse for me to go.

Part of it was stress.  I was in the middle of taking classes, trying to find better work, and dealing with an unsupportive, emotionally abusive boyfriend (it's a miracle I can even admit to that now).  He was usually the first in line to say that I couldn't make a living writing, and that I was being immature and stupid about it.  And when the relationship went bad (surprise, surprise), and the insults started flying every day from the both of us, I ended up choosing to focus on my education and poured myself into that.  That meant giving this up.  I wasn't strong enough to focus on both.  And it didn't help that when I sat down to write posts, there was a voice from the other side of the room complaining about my sighing and grumbling and other frustrated noises.  You know those noises when the blog post won't come to you and you're fumbling to explain yourself.

That relationship is over now, thankfully.  I finally deleted him from my Skype contact list, which for me means that it is officially OVER.  Caps and all.

And I've missed you all.  I still get updates from certain blogs, and I still think about how much fun I had here, participating in contests, talking with other authors, talking with agents, complaining about how hard writing actually was.  I've missed you all so much.  So I came back.  I hope you'll have me again.

I have a lot of ideas for this blog.  I'll write a post detailing what I want to do (Short Story Sundays, anyone?) and already have some ideas for posts.  It's going to be fun I think.  It always was.

Long story short: I hit bottom, I've risen up, and now I'm back.  Let's get this party started.