You know how everyone says when one door closes another one opens? At the time, you find this statement obnoxious as all get out because a) you don’t really know what the future holds, it certainly hasn’t been a cakewalk so far, and b) the thought of change is unbearable. You feel like your life is falling apart and everyone around is feeding you clichés like they’re made out of kale or quinoa or whatever the trend health food is right now. You don’t want kale clichés, you want double-chocolate fudge realisms, and you want them now. You just want things the way they were, but then something happens, a moment, an instant that sets you out on a path toward happiness you never knew could exist, and suddenly you think, huh, I don’t think I want double-chocolate fudge anymore. I think I’m in the mood for this heaping serving of strawberry cheesecake sitting in front of me…with a side of kale. And a pair of split pants, but we won’t get into that right now.
Graham Glenn may have tossed her in, but Oliver Finn made her feel again.
- I wish I’d never let him have you, never let him near you, never let him throw his spell over you. I wish I would have demanded he back away from you.
- I would do anything for you not to be the first image I wake to and the last I fall asleep to.
- I want you to see him for what he is, know him for what he will do to you, discover he’s not the one for you.
- If only you weren’t so beautiful, or clever, or kind, or charming.
- But you are all those things and you drive me crazy with that hair I would give anything to run my hands through, your skin I wish to breathe over, your words I want to drown in.
- And you are unaware of my secret. You must be, have to be, because I know if you were, you wouldn’t smile at me as you do, laugh at my jokes, banter with me so effortlessly.
- You wouldn’t torture me if you knew how I felt, how I am known to lay in my bed at night plagued with an imagination that won’t let you go.
- No, you wouldn’t do that, and yet, I’m in agony still, want for anything you will give me despite it meaning nothing to you.
- And I want you desperately. Incessant shouting in my head, silently begging for you to look at me, notice me, see me as more than his friend.
- Notice me, Penelope Beckett. See me, Penelope Beckett. Give me permission to worship at your feet, Penelope Beckett.
Fisher Amelie resides in the South with her kick ace husband slash soul mate. She earned her first ‘mama’ patch in 2009. She also lives with her Weim, ‘Jonah’, and her Beta, ‘Whale’. All these living creatures keep the belly of her life full, sometimes to the point of gluttony, but she doesn’t mind all that much because life isn’t worth living if it isn’t entertaining, right?
Fisher grew up writing. She secretly hid notebooks and notebooks of dribble in a large Tupperware storage container in her closet as a kid. She didn’t put two and two together until after college where it suddenly dawned on her, “Hey, I like writing”. She’s a bit dense. “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are. Put down that Oreo, your butt can’t take any more.” “You’re rude.” “Yeah, yeah.” Anyway, she likes to write and has finally beaten her self-esteem into submission enough to allow herself to be scrutinized under the ‘other readers’ microscope. “No! No! Not a cover slip! Last time it gave me a ra….” (mumbling)