This is from the novel I’m working on. I’m not 100% sure if it will end up on the book or not. But I had to write it. The scene came to mind almost complete.
For now, I’m not going to say much about the novel, but it is in progress. How long will it take to write? Who knows? To be honest, I’ve been writing it for years. Some of it is on paper. A lot is still in my head. But I’ve known for a long time that I was going to write it. It’s evolving.
Anyway, here’s a scene from the book. The only thing I know is the title, really. Lessons in Leaving (Normal)
Ash I knew I could come to her if I wanted to, but I didn’t want her to dwell on what was. I wanted to know that she could leave what had been our normal to find what was authentic. I wanted her to find her way — without me. As much as that hurt, as much as I hated not being with her, I knew I had to give her time. A year passed. She was discovering parts of her she’d never been able to explore before. I watched. I cried. My heart hurt so much. But I laughed with her, too. And my non-physical body shivered with excitement as I watched her discover joy again. One night, I was watching her fall asleep. She closed her eyes every night and fell into a motionless sleep, as always. She’d always done that and it used to drive me crazy as I would lay there, sometimes for hours, my brain refusing to shut off. I didn’t plan to do it. It just happened. I said her name. “Glennie…” Her eyes popped open, and I knew she’d heard me. The tears immediately began to roll down her cheeks, and I pulled her into me so they fell onto my chest. She seemed so small now. She’d lost weight. Almost fragile, yet she was stronger than she’d ever been. My Glennie. So beautiful. As much as I wanted to punch those men out — she was mine — I was also proud of her for stepping out of her comfort zone. Learning, growing, reaching out to the challenges of leaving her old life behind. Glennie was a goddess. I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t need to. I held her close, felt her breath against my skin. Her scent was the same as it has always been — warmth, kindness, acceptance. I knew she was close. She was so close to discovering who she really was. He was close. Not there yet, but close. And I wanted her to know that it was ok to accept his love and to love him back. Maybe that is why I called her. I needed her to know that it was ok to follow her heart and to let love find her again. I didn’t want to leave her. I stayed for longer than I needed to. She fell asleep in my arms. Only then did I leave her for the last time.
Originally published at http://dani.space.