I hate you Desire

My heart is completely crushed. This I’ll likely not mend from easily, not like last time. I can’t focus. If I slow down, I’ll think about him and the lies he has told, the things he has done, over the years. I’ve been cleaning my apartment like a madwoman, throwing so much crap away- an attempt to shed myself of the past by ridding myself of material rubbish. I feel so much emptiness inside. I spent half of Monday putting away items from decades ago that just don’t fit on my bookshelf, clearing dust. Yesterday, after going three days on six hours of sleep, I changed my phone number. I couldn’t deal with the bullshit. He had told me Sunday he didn’t want to be with me, that he did not love me even though he told me on three separate occasions that he did and that I should forget him. He then proceeded to call within an hour of my going to sleep to ‘remind me’ that he didn’t love me, that he didn’t want me to call, that he would not listen to my messages and would simply delete my voicemails, then ramble on about how he ‘likes me, but doesn’t love me,’ to say ‘hi’ to my family, no wait, don’t. Then, “Maybe I’ll ‘check you out’ in a couple years” & “I hope you’ll do alright.”

I admit I became very upset when he began to push me away right after he told me he loved me, right after we had (I thought??) decided to be a couple. We started seeing each other only about six weeks ago, but I’ve known him for many years and I’ve seen him in the past. The first night we were together, I wasn’t sure about continuing to see him, but he persisted in calling and asking to come over so I relented and then he got into my heart. I did the whole pulling away thing first- but I wasn’t mean or cruel about it when he called wanting to know why I hadn’t called!

The night we decided to be together was my birthday, after a week of almost no contact. He had called earlier in the week and told me he wasn’t blowing me off, don’t worry and that he loved me. Then no calls, shows up on my birthday, we talked about what we were doing and I told him I didn’t want to get too serious but didn’t want just a fling either. He agreed. My birthday was great.

Then I don’t get a call at all for over a week, only one text to say he was thinking about me a couple days later, then I sent him a text because I was upset about the actions of an ex that I could not do anything about, and he breaks it off in a text, then the next day calls me and tells me very harshly that he does not love me, we’re not a couple, not to go looking for ‘love’ from him because I won’t find it. I do not even want to repeat his exact words because they hurt so much. He then calls back an hour later and apologizes for the way he acted and I hung up. I then began to have the worst panic attack I’ve ever had and thought I was having a stroke. I couldn’t barely speak or dial my phone; my words were coming out wrong. I sent him a text via speech to text and it came out jumbled. He called me and yelled at me before I could tell him that I thought there was something wrong with me. When I told him that I thought I had a stroke he acted like he couldn’t be bothered. Fortunately for me it wasn’t!

How could someone be so hot and then so cold? I’ve read all about how men pull away because they’re afraid they’ll ‘lose’ their independence and ability to hang with the guys, go fishing, do what they want basically. There is a website where you can go and read all about this. This guy actually counsels women on how not to be needy. Okay. Question. How is it ‘needy’ to want to know what the $&%^ is happening in your relationship? Are you supposed to be a mind reader? You mean to tell me that every woman who has a guy pull away is supposed to sit patiently at home while these guys get their heads on straight? How the flip is that fair? What about when we get scared? What happened to communicating? Shouldn’t you advocate communication with a potential partner over head games? It is extremely hurtful and upsetting not knowing where I stand with someone I love, calling them and having it go to voicemail, sending a text and not hearing back from them. Sure, it is great when they do reply. But you’ve got guys thinking it’s okay to dictate dating etiquette. No, it’s really NOT okay to keep a woman waiting. She has her own life to live, there could be that great guy who really will love her around the corner and you may just be hanging her up because of your selfish indecision!

Don’t get me wrong, I have done no contact before. I stopped talking to this same guy for months. Then I called him again and he was very happy to talk to me, or so I thought. I hate hurting people. I’d rather be honest and tell them that I do not know how I feel and they shouldn’t wait rather than tell them that I love them when I don’t know how I feel. I try to put myself in the others person’s shoes whenever possible.

Am I the easiest person to get along with? No. When someone hurts me, my first response is to lash out. I am human. Second is to cry.

Right now, I ache. This hurts. It is not what I planned on doing for my summer. As I was cleaning my living room yesterday, I had a rather large number of empty boxes stacked up on my couch. It almost looked like I was getting ready to move. I wish. I suppose the best thing would be to remove myself from this island at this point. I really miss Trinity. 😦 I kept thinking how easy it would be at that point to just pack up everything I’d just sorted… I can dream!

The thing I’m most upset about right now is, even after everything he’s said and done that has hurt me, I still desire him above all else. I hate you, desire!

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Autobiography and Published Works of Violet Yates

Just a short bio:

A love of the English language was fostered in Violet Yates at a young age. Since the time she could first read, books were an escape to a world full of fantasy and imagination, where horses became unicorns and wings, where tornadoes picked up houses and little girls and they somehow landed in an emerald city. Having grown up in Hawaii, there was quite a bit of Hawaiian legend to be told to little Violet, as well as Chinese stories of girls and boys being born from peaches and growing from trees. She wrote her first story at age 8 and sent it into Highlights magazine, who sadly rejected it. But that did not stop her. Throughout Violet’s life, she worked at perfecting her writing, striving to achieve straight A’s in school.
While in New York in her 30’s, Her love of words led her to seek a Bachelor’s degree in English, and during those years she wrote a novel, a novella and several short stories. She went on to obtain a Master’s degree in Higher Education Administration.
Violet loves to read, write, watch movies, listen to music and dream. She considers the Bible to be the best book ever written.
Violet has three children,a 23 year old son who is strong and wise, a 22 year old son who is handsome and makes her so proud, and a beautiful 13 year old daughter who takes after her mother a great deal.
Currently Violet lives in on the Kona Coast in Hawaii.

Link to my Published by Violet Yates Facebook Page, for information & updates on my books: www.facebook.com/publishedbyvioletyates

A link to my novella, Leaves of the Fall: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/62456

A link to my short story collection, A Violet Fancy: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/79143

Two short stories, Forgotten Forest of the Innocent & Learning to Drive: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/61075 & http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/62820

My autobiography, Leaves of the Fall: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/64041

All are only 99 cents, which is a great deal, plus you get to sample free. They are also only 99 cents on the sites listed below and easily searchable.

My short story collection is available in paperback here: http://www.amazon.com/Violet-Fancy-Short-Story-Collection/dp/1463799918/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1397221235&sr=8-1&keywords=violet+yates

Falling into the Lord’s Hands is available in paperback here: http://www.amazon.com/Falling-into-Lords-Hands-Addiction/dp/1466244372/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1397221235&sr=8-4&keywords=violet+yates

My books are available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, Kobo, Diesel, Page Foundry, Baker & Taylor (only via Blio right now), Flipkart, Oyster & Scribd. Baker & Taylor Axis 360-will be shipped soon. My books have the capability to be purchased by via Library Direct so that they would be accessible at libraries. If you have questions regarding the sites that I don’t have links for, I don’t currently know much about them but I will find out what I can if you need to know. All but Amazon are distributed through Smashwords.

Thanks! Have an awesome weekend! 🙂 ❤ 😀

 

Leaves of the Fall prologue

Prologue

The Past

Rose first met Ethan during her sophomore year in Hudson high school. As she was walking to French class, an obnoxious, overtly tall guy veered too close to her, causing her to drop her books all over the floor. The jerk turned his rounded eyes on Rose, shrugged, and then proceeded to pass as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Rose scrambled to gather her belongings; she knew this would make her late to her first class.

As if on a rescue mission, a golden-haired, sunny faced young man approached her and stooped to help.

Rose looked down on the boy and felt a strange jerk in her stomach. He’s beautiful, she thought as she sucked in a huge breath, surprised at this thought. He gazed up at her with alluring brown eyes. He looked strong, like he worked out, but not body-builder muscular. Some softness, just right to round off the edges.

“Some people are so lame,” he said as he stacked her books in a neat pile, handing her the books before rising to stand next to her. He was tall and cute in a model sort of way.

Rose wanted to say something, but she was tongue-tied. Gathering courage, she murmured her thanks and offered him a hesitant smile. Rose wasn’t normally shy like this.

“I’m Ethan Hathaway. I just moved here from Coxsackie,” Ethan said, breaking into a dazzling grin. He looked down at her books and noticed she had a text on creative writing in the pile.

“Rose Boyne.”

“Hey, you write fiction?”

“Yes, I do,” Rose replied, frowning. She was still trying to get her brain to work.

“I write poetry. A lot, actually. Hey, maybe we could get together sometime, write together or something.”

From that point on, she and Ethan had become good friends. Soon, they were sharing lunch together and hanging out after school. Then they met Trevor Dunn, Rose’s future husband, an outgoing, light brownish blonde, stocky athletic type who chased after Rose like she was the last girl on earth. She found herself having to choose between the two, and Trevor’s magnetic charisma won her over. Ethan took it in stride, glad that they could all still be friends. The trio soon became inseparable; they never did anything without each other. If they had plans, and one of them couldn’t go, no one would. It was never discussed; rather, it was just an unspoken agreement between them.

Now, a decade later, they had all grown up; Rose had married Trevor, and Ethan had married a girl who’d come into the picture during their senior year in high school: the fiery-tempered, red-head Sherri Tate, a girl who was either one’s best friend or one’s worst enemy- there was no middle ground.

Three years had gone by since Rose had spoken with Ethan, even though she occasionally ran into him in town. Three years did a lot to a person, changed them in ways not easily defined. Rose and Trevor’s marriage was failing. Whenever she thought of peace, her thoughts turned to Ethan. So when Rose heard of the accident last month, events began to snowball. After that time, Rose’s life as it had been would cease to exist.

During the first nasty storm of the fall, the buzz was that Ethan had crashed his truck and wrapped it around a tree. That was the story Rose was able to piece together, anyway. Rumors of his death began to circulate two days later, starting with Missy Stotski, who had called to tell her the bad news.

The phone thrilled in the background, its shriek a violent assault on Rose’s ears. Rose had been washing dishes, and resented the intrusion.  She ran to pick it up.

“Rose, sit down. You’re not gonna believe this.”

Missy and Rose had known each other for years and become fast friends. They both worked at Point of View, a small fiction publishing company in Albany, New York. Their calls seemed to always start like this, with one of them dishing out juicy tidbits of gossip to the other. Only this time, Missy’s tone was one of sadness.

“What’s up, Missy?”

“Ethan Hathaway is dead, Rose.”

Trying to keep her voice steady, even though her belly was performing a series of gymnastic moves at that very moment, Rose bade Missy to continue.

“There was a bad accident the other night.”

Rose sat down on her couch with a thud. Dead? Ethan? NO. Darkness began to descend on her.

“Is this a joke? Cuz it’s not funny.”

“I’m not kidding. Rick just called from work and told me. Everyone’s talking about it. Isn’t it awful?” Missy whispered.

“Good Lord.” Rose fought the tears, although a few escaped. How could this be? She just saw him the other day, in the supermarket. He had been fine. Living, breathing, and alive. Broken, she told Missy she had to go. She fought off a wave of nausea.

“You okay? Do you want me to come over?” Missy asked, but Rose’s mind was elsewhere.

“What?” Rose shook her head to clear the cobwebs out. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Rose pulled herself back from the slump she’d fallen into, thanked Missy and hung up the phone. Ethan couldn’t be dead. There was so much she had never told him.

Click here to purchase and read the rest of the story: http://www.amazon.com/Leaves-of-the-Fall-ebook/dp/B0052XQL7Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1310813197&sr=8-1