Recreating Gemma

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Recreating Gemma

Gemma

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Gemma wanted to be loved. More than anything, she wanted that. It seemed such a long time since she had felt wholly, genuinely loved. Time and again, dates came and went with no call and no second date. She perched on the couch with her teacup in hand, wondering why her love life was such a failed mission.

 

She flipped through the pages of Ms. Magazine, O, and Modern Bride, lamenting to her, I’ve read and reread every self-help self-improvement article in existence. I’ve taken all the quizzes on what to do and what not to do. My friends tell me to change, to try something different, and to try everything from relocation to aromatherapy! What’s a woman to do?

 

Gemma had begun with Fung Shui in her apartment and ended with each date leaving her cold. Suddenly, it hit her. I never reinvented myself! I never recreated my battered, bloodied heart! I never mended me. I never became a welcoming, loving person. I let my last relationship define me! What an epiphany!

 

Finally, she took the time to treat herself well and learn to forgive again. With every step, her heart softened and healed. She had forgotten how forgiveness of others could bind and strengthen her own wounded soul. She hadn’t realized how bitter, hard, and cold she had become. Wow, she thought, even I didn’t like me.

 

Months passed in a blur though she etched every moment into memory. She took slow, methodical steps and had arrived back at her true self, with one suitor who meant the world to her. Gemma smiled, realizing, all I had to do was recreate myself.

 

By Wildfire8470

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Daily Post:  Recreate

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Substandard

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chocolate

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Cheryl hadn’t met him. They had corresponded for years after she joined a group of writers, formed to write to our troops overseas. They all took pen in hand and began writing service members overseas; especially when they were  far away from loved ones during holidays.

 

She’d reread Dick’s replies as the letters became heated and lust nearly singed the pages. They prepared to meet when he came stateside. Dick had described a date she couldn’t have dreamed up herself. For months, she tried to imagine the scenario she’d prepared for.

 

Hours into that night, she sat in his car silently cursing him. This was not the man in the picture he had sent. This was not the behavior of a man who intended to keep his word. He drank heavily while she fantasized about chocolate Häagen-Dazs and preferring to be alone with it.

 

By comparison, and with all things considered, Cheryl found the reality of Dick to be substandard, but lighting his letters on fire would boost her spirits.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

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