The symphony of my life

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I was trying to come up with an idea for a post tonight – clearing the cobwebs in my brain that had been woven during my work day.  I like to write about things that have meaning for me, that strike a chord deep within me and light the passion that only words can fuel until it becomes a mellifluous production.

The image of my family crept into my thoughts and the music of their presence in my life began like a slow starting symphony.   The opus of this particular operatic was my divorce, my escape from a life that was not mine to live.  Single notes, soft but relevant, could be heard over the din in my head and the notes began to permeate my thoughts.  The movement of their music was intoxicating and I began to sway with the rhythm.

symphony

Each section of the orchestra sounded the cries of their instrument, but the blend of those voices, the song that was created, was harmonious, and like all symphonies, it had a story to tell.  The beginning of the sounds were light, easing me into the fable with their hypnotic sound.  Somehow the music spoke to me and I knew there was beauty far beyond what I was living.  I could feel it in the music that penetrated my skin, the octaves that dove into the reaches of my mind and brought me back to a reality where I was happy.  The notes blended to create a comforting strain, the dulcet tones began to rise in volume and the crescendo was an emotional outpouring of support.  The fat lady had sung, the show was over and so was my marriage.

There is always a deep, emotional story behind any operatic performance.  There is pleasure, there is pain and there is death.  I experienced some of the pleasure, my fair share of emotional pain and the death of a relationship.  But as any opera heroine does at the end of the performance, I lifted my head, nodded to the orchestra, and prepared for the next show.

What does it taste like?

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The envelope stood alone in her mailbox, her lawyer’s name etched on the top corner.  The papers had come and it was finally over.

She headed to her favorite restaurant and bought a bottle of Cakebread Cabernet Sauvignon and brought the glass to her nose.  She could trace the hints of dark berries, Cassis and mocha.  The aroma penetrated her nose and she savored the scent.  When she finally let the glass brush her lips the wine spilled over her taste buds. It was heaven.

The bartender was curious and asked her, “What does it taste like?”

“It tastes like freedom.”

100 word challenge

This was written for the 100-Word Challenge at Julia’s Place.  I just stumbled on it, and I do love a challenge.

I’m sure the water is fine – Trifecta Challenge

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I’ve never been afraid of the water.  But perhaps after spending five years trying to calm the waves in my marriage I have been left with the slightest hesitation about diving back in.  Divorce can feel like a Tsunami, like the calm before the storm.  There is a sense of peace and strange tranquility and then the rush of emotion comes like a tidal wave engulfing everything in its path. And like the Tsunami, you know that wave is coming but it’s nearly impossible to get to a safe haven.

tsunami

(image courtesy of Google)

The dating pool, although seemingly non-threatening compared to the violent storm waves, beckons and standing on the edge of that pool is just as daunting as watching that tide surge forward.  The water may seem calm on the surface but the hidden dangers lie beneath that placid sheen and the potential for another storm gives me pause.  The slightest touch of the surface causes ripples and pushes me back from the edge of the pool.

I watch as the ripples dissipate.  The soft blue glow seems so inviting, but the dormant threat still lurks under the veil waiting to lure me closer to the edge, waiting to gently touch my skin and pull me under when I am blissfully unaware of the current below.  I can’t swim, not now.  Maybe sometime soon I will remember how wonderful it felt to float in that water, how comforting it was to be surrounded by its warmth and to feel buoyant.  Maybe soon, but not now.

I’m sure the water is fine, but I don’t think I’m ready yet to hold my breath and jump.  For now I’m content to sit on the edge of the pool and exhaust every argument in my head as to why I shouldn’t just take the plunge.

~

This was written for the Trifecta Challenge:
EXHAUST (transitive verb)
1a : to consume entirely : use up <exhausted our funds in a week>
b : to tire extremely or completely <exhausted by overwork>
c : to deprive of a valuable quality or constituent <exhaust a photographic developer>
2a : to draw off or let out completely
b : to empty by drawing off the contents; specifically : to create a vacuum in
3a : to consider or discuss (a subject) thoroughly or completely  

Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
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