Category Archives: Sexuality

Desperately Seeking Solace

My need to fill the space in time that I spend lost in my thoughts is swallowed by meaningless messages from strangers. Far safer then actual encountets, I can hide behind the safety of the Internet while I chat with them…The need for dependant validation exceedingly obvious.

It’s funny really, in all aspects of my life I am growing, extending, prospering even and yet I hide behind a mask of words in order to feel like I am going to bed full filled. I wonder if that thirst will ever be quenched or am I bound to spend endless moments typing away when I could be doing something real.

I have made life altering d3cisions. I am preparing for life changing and saving surgery. I smile everyday and hold an honest joy about tomorrow. I’ve made plans for the future that include no on save for the pixie and the sprite. Yet dear future husband is something I find myself writing everyday.

And it isn’t for sex and it isn’t for love…or is it. I honestly know that I need to connect on some level beyond physical attraction, which is why I can hold in depth conversations about silly or mundane things. I crave the intellectual randomness that you can only achieve getting to know someone new. But I sit there and wonder, am I lying? Are they seeing all of me? Do they even care?

The questions pile up and I know they won’t be answered.  I know that I won’t find what I am searching for online even though I have already discovered it in myself. A rare and true connection, where all the elements combine is life altering. I think I’ve had enough of those moments for now. 

I know though,  as soon as I post this, I will wander back to my deep dark dive bar on the web. Filled with smut and sweet and those desperately seeking solace. And I will validate them and they me. Because for even but a moment, sometimes all we need is a moment.

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Eliza Dushku is so hot

I had a long winded rant that I was going to go into, about life and why this week was going to be really stressful but I happen to be sitting in front of the TV and while the TV is generally not a distraction…Eliza Dushku sauntering on, during try-outs for Bring it On is just fucking distracting. Now I knew for a long time that I had weird feelings when it came to girls, that I wasn’t sure why I got that tingle in my belly when I had sleepovers just like when I played football with the boys but I never really thought of when I had a sexual awakening. Thinking about it now, I am not really sure I can pinpoint it, it had to have come sometime in high school, I mean that was when the experimentation (meaning kissing girls for fun and sport) really started. But Eliza Dushku…

I remember the first time I saw Faith on Buffy, there was something about the feisty, sparkly, sassy extra slayer that just got my juices flowing. Now, looking back on it I can totally tell you that I was highly attracted to her but then I think it was a mixture of that and wanting to be her. Which kind of ties into what I was thinking about before. What I have been thinking about for the past few days. What I want to be when I grow up. Now I am not still fantasizing about being Eliza Dushku…meeting her, yes but not being her. When I am talking about growing up, I am obviously and adult and I do realize that….and I am not talking about my career path. I am talking about the kind of person I want to see reflected back at me.

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I have taken time out in the past few days to reflect on things that have been going on around me, I have been told to take a deep breath and write what I am feeling if I come up to a blockage to write through it and keep writing till I felt comfortable. I fought against that notion until this very moment. I have only thought about writing for the past few days and here I am. Now all I have been feeling is that the winds of change are blowing and if I don’t put my umbrella in the draft I am going to miss my chance and life is going to start passing me by. I have been thinking about my plans for the future, for what life is going to be like in the next couple of months, weeks, days even. A lot of stuff is happening…So let’s catch up.

This week, the kiddos are gone on another mini vacay with their Nanny so I could get stuff done while they had fun. This week is looking towards being super stressful. Back into court with the ex, figuring out exactly what is going to happen with all kinds of custody things. Hoping it turns out fine but I feel like in some ways I am being set up. Seriously…who asks the main parent to pack specific full wardrobes for children for a ten-day vacation and returns the bags with the clothes untouched? Was it a test? T make sure they have clothes? My children are well taken care of, they are healthy, well fed, happy and well adjusted. They are going to be involved in music lessons, piano and violin, drama club, sports, gymnastics and Hebrew school this year. They have so much going on and I am not going to let ANYONE ruin that. So that is all going to be taken care of on Thursday, hopefully, it is all worked out amicably….Because I don’t want to have to go through a whole court battle, it won’t be ok for them and they are all that I care about.

After this mess is cleared up we continue to gear up for school, now it has hit me that I am really doing this on my own. Now I know I have been on my own for the past 7 months, trust me that hasn’t failed to fall on my shoulders but this is different. This feels new, like a new leaf, new responsibilities, and a whole new book. Maybe because it finally is a new year and as a Mom, the start of a new school year is the real beginning. Maybe because there are so many adventures on the horizon and I finally feel up to the task of doing it myself. Maybe because I have realized that I have the ability to do it on my own and it is actually a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. Either way, the new school year is a big deal and that is approaching rapidly.

Also my house, I am rearranging, throwing out, reorganizing and getting rid of the old. I am done with things that have bad memory and juju attached to them. I want my kids to look at things and smile. I want to curl up in my bed and have it be my sanctuary because I am a fucking princess. I don’t need a prince to tell me that.

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Then we come to my surgery, as of the 26th I will be making my last appointment with my surgeon before we schedule my gastric sleeve surgery. I am totally excited and totally terrified all at the same time. I can’t wait to continue on my journey with a new tool in my bag that will help me become a new, healthy me. I am terrified because I have actually become half convinced that I will not recognize myself anymore. I have so many thoughts in my mind about what is going to happen with the surgery that I give myself a headache. I know it it is going to amazing and wonderful and incredible. I also know it is going to be a huge lifestyle change, it is going to be a whole new me and I have to accept the fact that I will look different and I will feel different and I will get different attention. I have to be ok with that. I think it is the different kind of attention. I don’t know what it will be if it is going to happen and that is the biggest part that scares me. I think I am scared people won’t love me for who I am anymore but for what is on the outside. But I shouldn’t worry about it so much because I still know who I am and I love that person….Are you still keeping up? I think I lost myself about a paragraph ago.

So ahem….now that we have caught up on what will be going on I will leave you with this. I have finally got the courage under my wings, and a voice whispering in my ear, and a foot kicking me in the ass to really get on board with my book project. It is still in the futzing around stages right now but I can tell you it is going to be amazing. I can also tell you that I have been working on my bariatric blog and that has been going pretty fucking well too. I am going to go back to watching Eliza Dushku shaking her ass…and I am going to pick out a whole new bedroom set while doing so. Because I am starting a whole new book and this sassy slayer gets to start shaking it in style too.

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Where were you? (14 years ago)

It’s almost 14 years ago, my first time. I was scared and it was dark. I had been given a tour but I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing. A virginal experience, great…and I was on my own. I could tell this was going to be unlike anything I had done before. I heard a noise in the dark…I began to run; little did I know that noise in the dark, the path I started running on would lead me to where I am today.

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That first night of my very first LARP would lead me to find out what the bond of family meant, how friendships can stand the test of time, what loving with your whole heart feels like and how home isn’t where you rest your head but where your soul feels the safest. I also learned how power can corrupt, what a real bad guy really is, how drama is never really left in high school and how believing what everyone says can not only hurt you but hurt those around you.

I sit here watching the rain almost 14 years later, marveling at how life has changed. Back then life was about having fun, raising hell, flirting, messy relationships and being too naive to realize how much people cared and how drama would follow you for years to come. It was before kids, marriage, illness. Before real responsibility and life really set in. I was so innocent minded, naive hearted and optimistic. I thought life was so hard. I was a gypsy soul with a faerie spirit. There were only two things I knew for sure…That I knew who would be around for the rest of my life and that I had fallen in love hard with someone who would change my world forever (even though I hadn’t told him).

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Now those people who I called family only see each other at funerals and promise to see each other more often. We’ve drifted apart and we try to stick together when we can but we know IF we are NEEDED we show up en mass. There are people that have drifted away to find their own new adventures. There has been marriage and divorce, lots of little ones along the way. Drama has dwindled although give us too many bottles of wine and we will bring it up and laugh about it now.

I listen to my sprites chatter away as they are falling asleep and I smile because so much of my life has changed. I have planted roots in a place I never thought I would. I have lived in more places than I ever thought I would and I am in school to help others in ways I should have been helped as a teenager. I spend my days running to appointments for the countless things that are broken with my body and my nights editing for independent authors, writing in at least one of my novels and doing schoolwork.

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I have bills and I can drive a car. I know what real life and responsibility are. I know why I can’t just move with a change in the winds. Life has taken me on a hard path and I have stumbled and fallen so many times I can’t even tell you how many scars I have but I keep moving forward. My mind isn’t innocent anymore but my heart is still pure and loving and I can still be way too optimistic for maybe anybody’s good. I’ve been told I should be jaded but I can’t be. I’ve been told I am a lot stronger than I was but I don’t see it. I guess I am glad other people can see it in me. Life is still sometimes flirty and full of raising hell (and by hell I mean the sprites of course). Messy relationships are still happening every so often but by now I know when to walk away.

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I still have that person who I knew would remain in my life forever. I have found ou that if you’re good friends with someone for over 7 years you will be friends with them forever. Thinking about my closest friends, I met the ones that are there and have been there through all the ups and downs of life through nights int he woods. We still share the laughter and tears, the inside jokes, the secrets and the boozy nights of going “why did we think our shit was that hard?!?!???”. That guy that I felt hard in love with, I still am and I don’t know how not to be, he knows now though. Although he is not in my life in the capacity I wish he was, he is in my life and I know he always will be, that is the stuff that matters.

Life changes around you all the time, 14 years ago I found the place I needed to start finding the path to my destiny. To the woman, I was to become. Be it in Avalon or Ravenna, I always knew that I had family, laughter and a place to escape for a while when life got to be too much. For that I am thankful

Sparkles

Shaye

xoxo

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I’m here for you. For as long as you need me.

I was going to go into detail, tell you of my story but right now I can’t. I can’t because you don’t need to hear my story right now, you need to hear that I will understand yours. If I can’t understand you, I will listen and empathize. I will give you my hand, lend you my shoulder and certainly be a sounding board. I chose these pictures for you because in them I saw my past, I saw my friends, I saw my struggles and I saw the messages I needed so long ago. The reason I became who I am today, I wanted to be the person that I never found so long ago. So these are for you and me.

I am here for you. For as long as you need me.

Sparkles,

Shaye

Xoxo

 

The Process of Healing

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At first you are so numb that emotions only break through when you least expect it. Your heart feels like an empty spot in your chest. You’ve loved so much it burst and the faerie dust leftover slips through your fingers. You don’t know if it is going to blow away with the next gentle breeze. You know this isn’t a time to escape in your head but you can’t escape
thoughts that push you down.

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Then you’re mad. Anger blossoms in that empty hole. Seeing red becomes the only thing to do. Mad at the world, at yourself, at the one who shattered you in the first place. You question your choices, your past. You go over, dissect and eviscerate your choices, your relationship, your words, your mistakes. And when you are through overanalyzing you cry.

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The emotion finally swells and you cry like the tears have been there your whole life and you broke the dam. Your body’s is broken with sobs and you can’t hold yourself together. Everything becomes a trigger, everything hurts, you always want to share it with the piece of you that’s gone. It’s unexplainable, even you don’t understand it; one day you are fine and the next you can’t stop the waterfall.

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No matter how long this stays, eventually it goes and that’s when you begin to heal.
You start by waking up and feeling a little better everyday. You don’t take everything so personally. You still feel those feelings but you only give yourself a minute to wallow or the length of a phone call to your best friend. You hold onto the good memories, smile at things on Pintrest and start letting people see you for you again. You aren’t ready for another book to be written again but eventually you wouldn’t mind scribbling a few pages in your journal.

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Eventually you will. You will laugh again. You will have your hand held. Your bed won’t always be empty. Someone will say something so funny you will laugh till your sides hurt. Someone will cup your face gently and give you a first kiss. And it will be wonderful. Because you have healed. And you are worth it.

Sparkles
Shaye
Xoxo

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How to stop the pain

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Are there corks big enough? How bout super strength duct tape? Family sized bottles of Krazy glue?

I don’t think there is ever anything that will stop the pain of a broken heart. Especially one that keeps breaking over and over again. The lifetime circle of heartbreak shows its head when your young and your pigtails are pulled, to when your older when you don’t get out of bed for two weeks. Well here’s my advice to you, from a girl who just lost the love of her life. It fucking suckd. Your heart feels like it’s now there and your soul seems ripped away, but you will live, because you have to. Don’t let life pass you by…it’s not worth it….and keep your hopes high but prepare for the worst.

To all my lovlies
Shaye

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On the road – SoundCloud

Listen to On the road by Shaina Abbs #np on #SoundCloud

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Bohemian Lullabye

Yes this may or may NOT be the prologue to Shaye’s tale

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Prologue

“What are you doing?” my brow furrowed as he first turned his gaze and then his entire body away from me.

I was met with silence, that cold ring of silence that makes you uncomfortable and anxious all at the same time. I stared at the ceiling and tapped my fingers together wondering if I was going to get an answer from him.

We had been in a lull between tours and we had just another few weeks before we went on the road again. There had been talks of separate buses, because who wants to deal with a weepy Oliver when he can’t see the baby. I didn’t even know if the entire family was coming along this time. The last month long tour we did on the west coast we were ramped and it just blew.

There was a crack in my ceiling; I idly made it into various shapes as he still was silent. I knew he wasn’t dead, how morbid of a thought, because he was still breathing. And he wasn’t snoring so he wasn’t asleep. He was just waiting. Just fucking waiting. For what? I didn’t know. I had nothing left to apologize for. I tried to make amends for my past, for being distant, for not wanting to jump his bones every five seconds, hell I apologized for not making the bed the other day. But it wasn’t enough.

I took a deep breath “Baby, why did you turn away from me?”

“Because I needed to, because sometimes I don’t even think you realize that you aren’t a person anymore.”

I winced, sighed and let my head drop. “Alright, if that’s how you feel.”

I slipped out of the bed, feet hitting the cold stone of the floor, and quickly yanked on a pair of yoga pants and a sport tank and headed off to the kitchen. I almost expected him to follow me. I knew he wouldn’t, when he gets like this he never does. I half hoped that the guys were coming over to snag him for a rehearsal today. As the coffeemaker began to drip I scooped my hair into a ponytail on the top of my head. He called me pebbles when I did that, not that he had done that lately. I glanced around at the quaint stone cottage and made a face at the boxes I had yet to unpack.

I just didn’t have the strength or energy lately, honestly all I wanted during this break was to rest and spend time with Eric. But my time with him kept leading to these petty fights and I just, I just didn’t know what to do. He’s so logical and I’m so not. I’m spontaneous and he’s organized. I love clutter and he, well he can’t leave dishes in the sink overnight.

Adding some coffee to my sugar and cream I plopped down in my oversized armchair and flipped the lid open to the box closest to me. Pulling a manila envelope out of the top, I frowned because I didn’t remember when or how that got there. I opened it slowly and placing my coffee on the table next to me, reached in tentatively. It was full of pictures.

I pulled them out one by one, studying each and every detail. Some were from even before we hit it big. Way before. Some were from high school, HIGH SCHOOL. When my hair we all kinds of curious colors, and there was smiles on all of our faces. Each of the pictures as they fell into my lap brought back memories I hadn’t had in so long. Some bad and some good but each had lyrics and poems attached to them. I knew what I had to do to get out of this funk. I grabbed my pone and loaded up a bunch of songs and stood up letting the pictures flutter to the floor.

I hastily wrote a note and left it on the table:

Eric,

Went for a run to clear my head. Technology free day, soon as I come home. Yes I have it on me, and my knife and my pepper spray.

Love you,

Shaye

 

Placing my ear buds in, I stretched my legs out and headed out the door of my small stone fortress, and out into the woods. Taking in a deep breath of that green fresh mountain air I began to slowly jog, losing myself in my memories.

© S.R. Gray 2016

This is NOT a Love Story

The first of many books I stated, let me know what you think

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This is NOT a love story! And what I mean by that is that this is some mushy gushy story about love triangles, about some guy or girl shaped my world or any of that nonsense. Though if I really think about it those aspects are in there. However, this is NOT a love story. I will not let you categorize it as such, much like Disney categorized Frozen as a sisters story when it WAS a love story. This, at least I think is more of a suspense thriller, but most people would disagree…Granted most people can’t see inside my brain. Hell I can’t even see inside my brain. Ok off track here a little bit. Anyway, now that we are clear what this isn’t, let me tell you what this is.
This is MY story; yeah get your chuckles out now. I know what most of you think of me, even some hell probably some of those who I’ve chatted up in the grocery store line. I know what you’re thinking. And no, I am not a conspiracy theorist or any of that nonsense, I just know what mask I where when and how people judge me in relation t such. Hell, I’ve burned some of those masks years ago and people still remember them. They are seared so hotly into people’s brains that I will never be who I am today but always who I used to be. So, this is a story without the mask, or at least I hope I can be brilliant honest and make it through. This is the story I should have typed a thousand times in a thousand different ways and I didn’t…
I have a lot of good excuses why I didn’t, but nothing that really gets me out of it. I have 5 fucking stories on my computer, 5! And they each have at least 2 chapters…One of them even had a PROLIGUE! And they are genuine stories that I hope to finish someday, but I can’t put my heart back in the place it was when I was writing them, does that make sense? Ok so by now you know that in person I have many masks, I make a lot of excuses and totally judge books (and movies) by their cover (and tag lines…see first paragraph). Let’s add to the stack shall we? I often go off on tangents that no one can follow (be prepared), I can be very sexual and potty mouthed, and sometimes I just out and out lie…Granted I think it’s more of a retelling of the story in a more fanciful fashion but when push comes to shove, I lie. If you have to ask why at this point I would tell you because I like to. See I told you a suspense thriller would be more my story.
So here I am baring my soul, to the world. Or at least I hope to. In this story that is not about love, though there is love in it. A story full of stories, full of unheard truths and confessions. Maybe I’m repenting for some bad shit I did in a past life, but all I got from all the oogie boogies down in New Orleans where that something really bad happened in a past life but they couldn’t tell me. I think I am writing my story because it is time, or that I am running out of time. No I am not suicidal, I am literally running out of time, I was supposed to write 50,000 words by the month of December and as of right now my word count is 607. I think if I can pound out 50,000 words in two days I would be incredible proud of myself but incredibly worn out. But I made a promise to someone in New Orleans that I would finish a book by the beginning of this year and I broke that promise. I hate breaking promises. So now it’s time to promise myself I will finally finish what I have started. For once in my life have something to look back on and say hey you…look at that, not only do you make beautiful kids, bake a mean apple pies and have a gay harem that puts the world to shame…but you wrote a fucken book. Go team you.
Now that I have gotten a minor introduction out of the way I guess we should start with my childhood right? I don’t have a lot of memories as a kid, but I have flashes of them, if that makes sense. I look through photo albums and I know faces and names and not a lot of details. Every once in a while a very clear memory will pop up in there and I will blurt it out, but those memories are so sporadic, sometimes I wish they would either stay or go away completely.
©S.R.Gray 2016

Writing a book

What do you do when you feel like your soul has been ripped in two? You write…at least I wrote or try to. I have written a lot of little things in the past few years, I ham going to show you all of it. Because I will now hide my thoughts, feelings or actions anymore. I have to start to live. at 32 it’s hard to do that when your heart is shattered by the person that taught you how to love. That your kids call Daddy. But I will be ok when the tears dry up. or i can find a new bottle of glue and duct tape.

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