She is a butterfly, born in the usual way that butterflies are born. As butterflies do, she flew from the moment she left her cocoon.
She could fly everywhere. And she did. She loved to fly. She loved to float in the wind. She never wondered how she could fly, until she landed on a Buddleia bush and saw her reflection in a window.
Curious, she looked at herself and flapped her wings. She watched them go up and down several times. She then started wondering how do my wings work? She then tried to get one wing to flap while the other stayed still. When that didn’t work, she tried the other side, with the same result. She then tried turning to the side to see how they worked.
She sat on the Buddleia bush all day wondering how her wings worked. She sat there so long, she forgot they worked at all.
After some more time passed, another butterfly landed beside her and asked what she was doing. She said, I saw my reflection and was wondering how my wings worked, and I’ve sat here so long trying to figure out how they work, I have forgotten how they work at all. What if I am stuck in this place forever? What if I can never fly again?
No worries, my friend, said the other butterfly. You have lost your way and have questioned how you fly. Maybe now you are also thinking since I can not fly, will my life ever be the same.
I am, she said. I loved my life and I loved to fly but now it seems I have messed it all up.
I have news for you, said her new friend. You can still fly. You can still have a life you love. It appears that you desperately want that so I will tell you how.
Please do, pleaded the butterfly.
First, know that you are loved. You are created to fly. You are unique and beautiful and you are not your mistakes or your questions.
Secondly, let go of all the doubts you have about if you can fly. Let it all go. You know you can fly. You were made to fly. You can fly, I believe in you.
It was then that the butterfly’s wings started to move. Ever so slightly at first but in no time at all , she was flying again.
I tried something fun to be creative instead of writing what pops in my head. Sometimes, nothing pops in my head.
So, I wrote this for those of you who ever wonder what happened to Tommy and Gina from Bon Jovi’s Livin On A Prayer. Or maybe I am the only one that has ever wondered.
It’s not perfect, but I bet some of you will sing parts of it like the real song. If you need a refresher, I have the video posted on the bottom.
Once upon a time, not so long ago
Tommy lost his job on the docks
Gina’s diner closed down
Down on their luck, it’s tough, so tough
Started over in a small town
Tommy started playing at the local bar
Getting by with the little they had
Gina didn’t think love would be this hard
Trying to recall when she wasn’t so sad
You can’t live on a prayer, takes so much more
When you’re breaking plates, slamming doors
We still talk about the crash on lovers’ lane
Where three crosses remember their names
Tommy knew they didn’t have much, didn’t have much
They lived in sin, couldn’t afford a wedding band
Tommy thought they’d always have love, always have love
He was rolling down the mountain at a break neck speed. He could not believe how fast he was going. He tried to slow down, but he couldn’t figure out how. Once a pebble gets rolling, there is only one thing to stop him. He saw them in the distance but they were getting closer and closer the faster he went. There was no way to avoid the big, bad boulders so he just closed his eyes and
SMACK !!!
“Hey pebble, what do you think you are doing??!!” shouted the boulders. “Can’t you see how close to the edge we are? We have been balancing on this ledge for a very long time. We don’t need a little pebble like you messing our situation up.”
The pebble shook with fear. He had never seen boulders that big before. “I-I-I’m ssssorry. I didn’t mean to hit you but I was going so fast I couldn’t stop. Thank you for stopping me though. Do you think I could stay here?”
The boulders answered with a stern “NO!! We don’t need you here. You are not one of us and would mess our lives up with all your little talk.”
The pebble didn’t like their answer but went on his way. He tried to take it slower but with each downward slope and each breath of wind that blew he didn’t have much choice. He was so small he went wherever the wind blew him. Most days he didn’t mind, every day was an adventure. He never knew where he would end up. Other days, he just wanted to stop and fit in somewhere. He wanted someone to like him, for him to be a part of something bigger than himself.
A big gust of wind started to blow and off the pebble went again. He was going so fast he would hit the ground then bounce up in the air. He felt like he was flying. “This must be how the birds feel,” he thought to himself.
Oh crap, more boulders ahead, the pebble screamed inside. “Look out boulders, I am coming right at you. I can’t stop!!!” yelled the pebble.
Once again the pebble was met with disdain. “Get out of here pebble. We are way too powerful for you. Do you NOT realize that we can squash you if we wanted to. You are too tiny to live here. Be on your way before we change our minds and decide to hurt you.”
The pebble didn’t waste any time scurrying from that place. He thought, What is wrong with all these boulders?Don’t they realize I don’t mean to smash into them. I’m just trying to find my way. Like I could ever hurt them anyway.
It was then he heard a small voice in the wind.” Go pebble go. Go where the wind takes you. You are more powerful than you know. Everything that is and has happened to you is for a reason. I didn’t mean you any harm when you crashed into those boulders. I was using you to try to change their hearts. To learn to be more accepting. To love something other than their own pile of boulders. It is not too late for them for you have planted a seed everywhere I have sent you. The choice is theirs. You tried. Keep trying and going forward. Do not be afraid.”
The pebble looked around but did not see anyone. Strange, he thought. At that time another gust of wind picked him up and took him on his way.
Not again, seriously, the pebble thought unbelieving. Why can’t I crash into a pile of grass or a stream of water. Why another pile of boulders? He braced himself for impact.
SMACK!!!!
This time the boulders didn’t yell at him. “Help us,” said the boulders. “We are about to fall off the edge.”
“How can I help you? I am just a small pebble,” the pebble asked. He was thinking this had to be some kind of trick.
“We are about to fall off the edge and we have been asking for someone like you. See this small hole in between us? We need you to jump in there and seal it so we can be strong. With you securing that hole, we don’t have to worry about falling off the ledge.”
Wow, thought the pebble. They really need me. “You can count on me,” he bravely said. “I have been wanting a place to settle down. A place that will accept me for who I am.”
He then jumped right into the hole and secured the boulders together.
“Thank you,” he humbly said, to the boulders and to that small voice he heard.
It was then they heard this rumbling coming down the mountain. All these boulders were falling all around them but , miraculously, none of the falling boulders hit them. The pebble recognized them as the same boulders who yelled at him and told him they didn’t want him.
“Thank you,” said the boulders he was with now. ” Without you, we would’ve had the same fate as those boulders. You saved us pebble.”
Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer. She is all I can think about these days. She is, or should I say was, a beautiful, unique, blah blah I could go on and on person. She made me laugh. She made me cry. I rooted for her to win.
Then I killed her.
Some of you might have seen it coming. Some, not so. After writing about her for three novels, I was bound to run out of story lines, was I not?
So in my last novel, I killed her. Well, technically, not me. I’m only a writer. Or you could say it was me that killed her. I don’t know anymore. I haven’t been the same since she has been gone so I will let you be the judge and jury.
As soon as I typed the last words of the novel, I started thinking it was a mistake. How can I kill her off? What will I write about next? Can I create another character as perfect as Jennifer?
But, I had spent the last five months of my life writing this novel and it went where it went. And now I am where I am.
Missing Jennifer.
In a way, you can say I loved her. I created her. She was everything to me. She was a part of my life for three years. Yes, I loved her. Maybe more than Tom, her husband in the novels. Yes, I miss her more than words can say.
She can’t be really gone, can she? But she is. 100% fact. Because I killed her. Well, again, I will say technically not me but when it comes down to it, it was me. I could’ve wrote that she killed the villain and lived happily ever after, but that is not what I wrote is it.
But, maybe, she isn’t really dead. After all, I’m the writer. I can bring her back.
All I have to do is start writing.
It was the storm of the decade. One that the locals will be talking about for years. The winds howled, the lightning struck, the rain fell from the heavens like the tears that fell from Tom’s eyes when Jennifer was murdered.
Tom always liked storms. The electricity in the air, the way the rain smell, how it felt like the world was being cleansed from its ugliness. Jennifer loved storms also.
Tom and Jennifer lived in the country, miles from anyone. Tom enjoys the solitude. Most people don’t get it, but Tom doesn’t get most people.Jennifer, on the other hand, was a people person. But it worked for both of them.
Tom sat on his front porch, watching the storm proceed with its cleansing.
It could not have been ten minutes when the large oak tree that stood thirty feet from their house was struck by three consecutive lightning strikes. It was within seconds of the third strike that Tom saw someone walking up his driveway.
Tom thought he must be seeing things. Like flash blindness after someone snaps a picture of you with the flash on. Just a blurred shape. But after a few blinks, the person was still there. Still walking toward Tom.
Tom sat there in silence as the person kept walking toward the porch. He wasn’t scared. He knew that walk. But he knew that it could not be her. That is when the sky lit up like the Fourth of July as more lightning struck.
He had no doubt it was her.
His lips said her name before his brain could ask how could this be.
