Do me a favour.
Take a look at this gif.
Now, take another look at this gif and imagine that these women are attending a funeral and taking selfies less than 6 feet away from the deceased’s open casket.
What would be going through your mind if you saw this?
Post your thoughts in the comments because I am curious to know.
No, I’m not dead…
With the assistance of a professional life coach, I’ve just been very quietly taking steps to figure out how I (me, myself and I) would like to see the rest of my life unfold and find what would provide more “joy” to my life.
It’s a little sad but “joy” has always eluded me. Besides fiction writing and spending time at the beach, I would be hard-pressed to name other things that truly make me happy.
Hence, the “bucket list” assignment that my coach gave me.
My coach said something about the list being a combination of “far-fetched and unrealistic dreams”, activities that would get me out of the house more and items that I would like to do at least once in my life…
Growing up, I never had an opportunity to have fun, frivolous and feel-good things on my life lists. And to make things worse, for a longstanding introvert like myself who didn’t bat an eye at the pandemic lock-down situation, I am finding it extremely difficult to complete this assignment.
Folks, I have failed few assignments in my lifetime but it’s sure looking like I’m headed in that direction if I don’t start racking my brain harder.
Of course, I could Google ideas but I thought it would be much more interesting to ask the question here.
Feel free to drop me some of your own bucket list items in the comments section or on my Threads .
But just know that if you mention “skydiving”, I will sigh very, very loudly…
Bisous,
M
Kehlani had ruined me and I didn’t want it any other way.
I ran my hand down my face, trying to scrub away the disbelief at how peacefully she lay there like it was everyday occurrence.
Under normal circumstances, a warm body in bed next to me would have been like any other Tuesday. It’s not like I hadn’t more than my fair share of women but this Lani situation was far from normal and it was a fucking big deal for me.
How could the one woman I truly wanted be out of my reach, figuratively, when she was in the same bed?
This was all fucking crazy.
When Lani insisted that we share the bed last night, I only pretended to put up a fight. I mean, why would I pass up the opportunity to maybe, just maybe, finally make a move?
Her words had been, “You have a bad back, it’s a King size bed and there’s more than enough room for both of us as long as you promise to stay on your side.”
But in reality, it was Lani who had been incapable of following through on her own words. With each twist and turn throughout the night, she found herself close, closer and then dangerously close enough for me to feel her body heat. Never had I ever wanted to desperately do something that a friend shouldn’t want to do.
Friends.
Yeah, I wasn’t her friend.
A real friend didn’t want to punch out other men when they flirted with her or get annoyed when she sometimes flirted back with them. Friends didn’t fantasize about exploring every nook and cranny of a friend’s sensual body nor did they wonder how amazing said friend would taste with her thighs wrapped around his neck.
No, I was definitely not Lani’s friend but she had me twisted in the best and worst of ways.
I would eventually have no choice but to stop the charade and take action.
Lani lay on her back, her face turned in my direction just inches away from mine. I was mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of her chest and the way her full lips were slightly parted. I gently re-arranged the curls that had escaped her sleeping bonnet and then softly caressed her cheek with my thumb.
Would she stir if I let my fingers glide down the length of her body to where her exposed leg peeked out from under the sheets and from her nightshirt?
I licked my lips and tried to tame the beast in me. I thought back to how she had so purposely moisturized those legs after her shower last night and I wondered just how soft that part of her body would still be. Just that thought and the sight of her thigh made me rock hard in an instant. If I wasn’t careful, the same dirty thoughts that made me crawl out of bed and into the shower at 1:00AM to find some release would take over again.
Down boy, down. Keep your cool.
No, fuck it.
Before I could think twice, the palm of my hand took on a life of its own to softly brush the exposed skin of her hip and down the length of Lani’s outer thigh, half-hoping that she would stir.
One slow stroke up, one slow stroke down, one slow stroke up…
Fuck. Her skin was softer than I had imagined.
When a low groan escaped from her parted lips, I froze mid-stroke. Lani arched her back and stretched herself out like a cat before turning to lay fully on her side to face me. As she did, her arm draped across mine and upon contact, she wiggled closer. Without hesitating, I raised my arm and instinctively Lani nestled herself against me to lay her head on my shoulder. With my other arm, I gathered her up, closing the already non-existent gap between us.
Lani was mine and always would be. She just didn’t know it yet.
“How did you make me do the one thing I said that I would never do?” I admonished in a whisper, half-hoping that she would wake up and catch me staring at her.
If things were different, I could kiss awake until her eyes fluttered open with surprise. Relish in her confused expression before a knowing smile took over. Confess to her that she was the only one that I would ever want. Slide my thick length deep into her while promising to make love and fuck her into oblivion all at the same time.
Those sweet torturous thoughts had me squeezing Lani tighter until she moaned again and started to wake up. I quickly shifted my lower body away to hide the rock hard evidence of what she was doing to me. I trailed my hand along her arm until she looked up under hooded eyes. It didn’t long for her to realize that she was cuddled up with me. Immediately, her body stiffened and her eyes filled with embarrassment.
“Oh my God! Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
Fuck, I could drown in those pretty brown eyes of hers.
When she tried to pull away, I resisted and would not let her extricate herself.
“No apologies needed. Do you see me complaining?” I laughed, trying to put her at ease.
For the longest moment, she searched my face for reassurance. Her embarrassed expression softened. She smiled and she placed her head back down onto my shoulder and lay her hand against my chest. I stroked her hair as we remained silent, our attention focused on the rain pounding against the large patio doors.
“Tyler, what’s wrong?” The heat of her breath on my neck almost killed me.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. More than fine,” I lied.
Unconvinced, Lani looked up at me with concern etched on her sleepy face. Her eyes pierced mine as she propped herself up a bit. She pressed her hand firmly against my chest, right above my heart. “Well, something is on your mind. Your heart is racing. Tell me?”
Was this the right moment to tell her that she had made me do the one thing I swore I would never do?
Fall in love.
For Christ sake, you sound like one her cheesy R&B songs. Just go ahead and tell her how you feel you coward.
Not knowing where to begin, no words came when I opened my mouth.
“It’s clear that something has been bothering you for a while. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I won’t like it but I’ll understand.” Her slight annoyance was clear. When I hesitated, she shrugged, threw back the covers and started to slide out of the bed.
“Wait.” I held her back by her arm and sat up as the words I never expected to say tumbled out of my mouth. “Chanel and I broke up and I want you to help me get her back.”
©2023 Marquessa Matthews
If you find yourself enjoying this piece of fiction, please consider signing up for my newsletter to get the “first read” of future fiction.
Didn’t I say that I would just jump in, attempt stuff and course correct, if need be?
Yes, I did and that’s what I am going to do now.
A long-time online friend/reader/follower suggested that I should have posted my last story excerpt in a solo post so that new and older readers and get a taste of my writing style.
I think she was right.
So…my next post will be the entire “Closer Than Close” (Tyler) piece (not just the excerpt) – the same piece that my newsletter subscribers have already received.
Stay tuned! :)
I am 100% clear that to get myself on track, I just have to write for pleasure.
It’s the only way to go for now. It is my form of relaxation and therapy and I want lots of that right now.
Just the thought of self-publishing stresses me out.
Writing with no set timelines means no pressure. I will keep my personal writing goals to myself without sharing them online which has clearly not helped me become more accountable.
For my newsletter subscribers, I will share hyperlinks to my fiction with those readers first. They will get a “first read” to provide their feedback on where they would like the story to go after the installment. Then, I plan on posting said installment and/or an excerpt to the blog and those who want to subscribe to the newsletter could do so if they like.
What else am I clear on? I’m clear that I just need to jump into the whole thing and to have faith that there will be bumps along the way that I will figure out.
And what about that little piece of fiction that I wrote?
It is a scene that would fall somewhere mid-point into my fiction piece and my plan is to begin at the beginning and aim for that same mid-point scene.
Below is an excerpt of that scene.
If you would like to read the rest before I consider posting, you will need to sign up for my newsletter and access the link in the December 2023 newsletter.
I hope you enjoy this teaser.
Closer Than Close (Tyler)
Kehlani had ruined me and I didn’t want it any other way.
I ran my hand down my face, trying to scrub away the disbelief at how peacefully she lay there like it was everyday occurrence.
Under normal circumstances, a warm body in bed next to me would have been like any other Tuesday. It’s not like I hadn’t more than my fair share of women but this Lani situation was far from normal and it was a fucking big deal for me.
How could the one woman I truly wanted be out of my reach, figuratively, when she was in the same bed?
This was all fucking crazy.
When Lani insisted that we share the bed last night, I only pretended to put up a fight. I mean, why would I pass up the opportunity to maybe, just maybe, finally make a move?
Her words had been, “You have a bad back, it’s a King size bed and there’s more than enough room for both of us as long as you promise to stay on your side.”
But in reality, it was Lani who had been incapable of following through on her own words. With each twist and turn throughout the night, she found herself close, closer and then dangerously close enough for me to feel her body heat. Never had I ever wanted to desperately do something that a friend shouldn’t want to do.
Friends.
Yeah, I wasn’t her friend.
A real friend didn’t want to punch out other men when they flirted with her or get annoyed when she sometimes flirted back with them. Friends didn’t fantasize about exploring every nook and cranny of a friend’s sensual body nor did they wonder how amazing said friend would taste with her thighs wrapped around his neck.
No, I was definitely not Lani’s friend but she had me twisted in the best and worst of ways.
I would eventually have no choice but to stop the charade and take action.
Lani lay on her back, her face turned in my direction just inches away from mine. I was mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of her chest and the way her full lips were slightly parted. I gently re-arranged the curls that had escaped her sleeping bonnet and then softly caressed her cheek with my thumb.
Would she stir if I let my fingers glide down the length of her body to where her exposed leg peeked out from under the sheets and from her nightshirt?
I licked my lips and tried to tame the beast in me. I thought back to how she had so purposely moisturized those legs after her shower last night and I wondered just how soft that part of her body would still be. Just that thought and the sight of her thigh made me rock hard in an instant. If I wasn’t careful, the same dirty thoughts that made me crawl out of bed and into the shower at 1:00AM to find some release would take over again.
Down boy, down. Keep your cool.
No, fuck it.
Before I could think twice, the palm of my hand took on a life of its own to softly brush the exposed skin of her hip and down the length of Lani’s outer thigh, half-hoping that she would stir.
One slow stroke up, one slow stroke down, one slow stroke up…
Fuck. Her skin was softer than I had imagined.
When a low groan escaped from her parted lips, I froze mid-stroke. Lani arched her back and stretched herself out like a cat before turning to lay fully on her side to face me. As she did, her arm draped across mine and upon contact, she wiggled closer. Without hesitating, I raised my arm and instinctively Lani nestled herself against me to lay her head on my shoulder. With my other arm, I gathered her up, closing the already non-existent gap between us.
Lani was mine and always would be. She just didn’t know it yet.
(Excerpt – full piece available via newsletter)
©2023 Marquessa Matthews
Giving up on writing helped me to slowly find my words again.
In the first weeks of “giving up”, I thought about all the in-progress unregulated things that were cluttering my head and in my life…finalizing the last steps of settling my father’s estate, getting the most important areas of the family home safe and more “accessible” and other projects that required actions in 2023 so that 2024 could be a year of hopefully more enjoyment. Of course, along the way, there were other things that added to my plate that made everything feel like never-ending mojo killers.
So I wrote them all down and made a decision to action one small item per day to avoid feeling overwhelmed. And whenever thoughts of “not writing” crossed my mind, I swept them away, kept my head down and slowly kept plugging away until the list became shorter and shorter.
And as the list became shorter and shorter, the fog in my brain began to clear, so clear in fact that I felt like starting to listen to my playlists again.
If you have been around for a while, you know that music fuels my writing. Music and lyrics are my main muse. So when I started to “feel” the music again, I knew the words would soon flow.
And flowed they did for a little bit.
While I was deep-diving into songs that I had never listened to before from some of my favorite singers and groups, there was one song in particular that struck a chord and sparked an idea. I let the idea simmer for a few days and then put the song on repeat as I drafted the scene that I had envisioned.
The simple pleasure of creating something was exhilarating.
But now that I had actually written something, what was I going to do with a scene that would fall mid-way into a story I have lacked consistency to write?
And that’s when I had another burst of clarity.
(to be continued with a third and final post – I promise 🙂 )
Season’s Greetings!
When I last I reached out, I was on an extended break away from work and my regular day-to-day busy life. I ate way too much, fell asleep on the beach for hours at a time and enjoyed watching the sun rise and fall every single day from my balcony. Though the change of scenery felt good, for the first week, I felt like a fish out of water being 95% less busy.
Knowing that I would have time on my hands, I had even thrown a brand new journal and writing notebook into my suitcase with the full intention of “writing something”. But the moment I held the journal and notebook in my hands, they felt like 100lbs. I left them on the desk as a visual reminder that “I should start writing something” but just seeing them sitting there made me feel like a failure. It was a raw reminder that I hadn’t been writing in ages.
So what did I do?
I tossed both items back into my suitcase and said out loud to the universe, “I give up. I surrender”. I immediately felt less anxious which led me to delve a little deeper into the why giving up made me feel better.
Why was I pressuring myself? It’s not like anyone had any expectations of me when it came to my writing.
Was I ever going to fulfill my childhood dream of becoming a well-known writer? Nope, the chances were slim to none.
When do I ever have a quiet moment to just peacefully write? Uh, I don’t. Outside of my 9 to 5, the rest of my time is spent “working” in one capacity or another.
And that’s the moment, 7 months ago when I made a decision to give up on writing.
But the strangest thing started to happen in the weeks that followed.
Giving up helped me to slowly find my words again.
(to be continued…)
©2023 Marquessa Matthews
Marquessa 