Elyse’s prelude….

pleaseOne of Elyse’s favorite things to hear about from her friends in PS is how they met their boyfriend, girlfriend, wife, or husband for the first time. She loves a good romantic story!

If only hers was one of them…. 😉

Mood music.


EXCERPT FROM: “PS, BOOK 1”
ELYSE’S PRELUDE

There was a time when I didn’t know Brendon.

There was, in fact, a lot of it.

And I wish I could say that all of the experiences I’d had during all of that time would have prepared me for meeting him, but they didn’t.

They did just the opposite….. . . .

In late summer following high school graduation, I left my home in Virginia and headed north to Rhode Island to attend Brown University.

In the blink of a blue eye, my world changed.

Not the way I thought it would. Not because I was suddenly free from parental constraints or had a new region of the country to explore all on my own, or because I would suddenly be expected to act like an adult.

My world changed… because everything I thought had existed in my version of it before I arrived in Providence disappeared, altered, skewed the day I met Brendon.

Suddenly, my thoughts revolved around him, instead of myself. My actions tripped over themselves in an effort to please him — and I longed to be near him every moment of the day to experience his existence on multiple levels.

Instinct took over my body. My head no longer had control over my heart. My heart could no longer comprehend or tell me how to put into words anything it was feeling.

And, in many ways, I felt imprisoned by my emotions; captivated by a strange and beautiful creature who was suddenly looking me over intently, shielding me from the negative influences of others, forming a subjective opinion about me, interacting with me as more than a friend.

Almost immediately I became endangered by the unknown and my inability to focus on, or accept, what I knew as reality.

Brendon would merely look at me across a room and my spirit would instantly run to him to tell him how I felt… about me, about him, about everything that had ever meant anything to me.

But my body did not — and could not — show it, nor could my voice express it.

Instead, when Brendon spoke to me about the things he loved, I found myself immersed in endless daydreams about all the gifts of music, poetry and love I could pour over him — but I stayed silent, sharing nothing, for fear of ruining the moment.

He would ask me questions for which I found myself capable of providing only half-answers because I was only half-listening; half-hearing. My ability to concentrate on Brendon’s words was always broken by my desire to touch him.

I longed to ask him questions that would enable me to know him better than anyone else, but I didn’t want to invade his personal space or overstep any boundaries.

I wanted to share unspeakable things with him that neither one of us would ever forget, and hold him tightly whenever we said good-bye. But I held all of my emotion back, remaining silent and stone-like in his presence, because….

There was a time when I didn’t know Brendon.

There was, in fact, a lot of it.

And what I learned during all of that time taught me to distrust my instincts and rely on others’ opinions and abilities to get what I wanted and needed in life.

The things I knew about the world insisted that I run away from, instead of into, Brendon’s arms when I needed help or comfort or simply wanted to show love.

The experiences of my childhood taught me to hide my true feelings instead of setting them free — out in the open where I could be myself without the constant fear of rejection.

Everything I thought I knew about myself before I met Brendon told me to leave him alone.

And so I did.

The funny thing is…

It kinda seemed like… somehow, someway, something in his past had taught him to do the exact same thing.

Your thoughts? Anyone, anyone....

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s