Beautifully Broken

Beautifully Broken

by C. L. Ford

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781481742108
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Publication date: 04/24/2013
Pages: 176
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.41(d)

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Beautifully BROKEN


By C.L. FORD

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2013 C.L. Ford
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4817-4210-8


Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Since I was a child I have carried a rage inside of me, it is just simply something that always was and always will be.

Where I learned to control my heart and hide any hurt that was brought upon with or without intention, I could not fully control or hide my rage.

I suppose nowadays some Doctor would have diagnosed me with something and put me on Medication, I say this not to be disparaging, as a lot has changed in the years since I was 15 and my rages were become uncontrollable and indeed a cause of great concern to my family on more than one occasion they witnessed that rage.

Sledgehammer in my hands mom crying that look in her eyes again, remorse sweeps over me like a wave. They look to me for an explanation a glimmer of emotion, I try to cry and reach out for the understanding I so desperately want to find, but the anger once again consumes me and I turn away in silence. I am so sorry but the words just won't come. "Forgive me Lord I know naught what I do."

K.L.S.

Now I am given to understand that cutting one's self to the point of blood is sadly not uncommon and I am not sure how it makes others feel but, for me it was the only way to stop the rage without physically hurting another. Well until I replaced smashing glass until my knuckles bled with alcohol, that is. Then it was a gamble as to which mask I would wear.

Thanks to more than one trip to the Emergency to have my hand stitched, and if I allow one to look closely enough the scars can still be seen to this day. Because of this I had become quite adept at lying and began to understand the concept of wearing different masks as I say for different situations, or occasions.

They say actions speak louder than words but the screaming in my head seems to be loudest of all. My Mom and Sister fighting, my drunken temper so much anger didn't mean to hit her and throw her out didn't mean to. Mom's voice suddenly screams the loudest begging me to stop, Dad dragging me outside. Don't they understand? I love them both I was only trying to protect them stop them from hurting each other. Now mom looks afraid and my sister hates me, I wish the voice in my head would shut up, God I need a drink.

K.L.S.

Now among my many beliefs is everything happens for a reason, and that night was no exception, sadly my sister and I were not close at that point, oh I loved her I really did, but because of events in our life I had come to see myself more as her parent than sister and a part of me resented her for that and I treated her badly.

I know that now but at the age of ten well it was lot to take on and I didn't know how, as well as we got older I got a lot overprotective which in my way translated to it's my way or no way, and what I say is right and you better listen. Which of course she didn't, us Savanti's are not very good at obeying as it were.

Which is exactly what I was demanding of her of them all as I had also informed my Mom that she was not allowed in the house when I was home. As at this point I lived with my mom and my sis lived with my dad.

Many other events happened that year that have no bearing on this story so I shall not share them, but that particular one was the worst and as my drinking spiraled farther and farther out of control, my Mom suggested maybe I consider moving to Balmoral about 500 miles from where I currently lived, As my fiancé and some friends whom had recently moved there were asking me to come.

At the time I took that to mean my Mom was more or less giving up on me and in essence asking me to go, so one night upon returning home dead drunk and finding my sister there, more unpleasant words were exchanged, I announced I was moving to Balmoral in a week.

My childish way of saying well then you've picked her over me so I'm going to leave. Of course in the sober light of day we had all calmed down and Mom asked me not to go, concerned I had rushed into this engagement which I had and also about my out of control drinking and frequent rages that accompanied it.

Again one of those defining moments, because a part of me didn't want to go, even though part of me knew that this is not where I belonged, I was truthfully afraid to go, but my stubbornness outweighed my fear and one week later I packed my clothes and left for the last time.

Once again everything happens for a reason, because though I made the decision to leave out of childish pride, it ultimately proved to be a pivotal moment in my life.

In that moving to Balmoral not only opened my mind in ways that would never have been possible had I stayed in Blackstage, while confirming to me that not only was more possible but within my reach.

By more I mean out of life, again I do not mean to be disparaging towards anyone, but am simply speaking of my own mindset, some people are content to live their lives as per the status quo, in that they are born raise a family and die all in one place. Never considering a different life, or even wanting to.

I was not and never will be one of those people, and had I not made that fateful decision have no doubt my life would have turned out very differently.

And I don't mean that in a good way, as despite all that followed after I moved, good and bad those experiences shaped the person I not only was to become, but needed to be. I still believe that in that though I am always evolving in thought and circumstance, at the core I know who I am and what I want out of life.

Had I stayed, I would have acclimated to my circumstances, but would always live with the knowledge, that I had settled for a life I did not want, nor was meant to live.

So many people settle for a life they don't want for many reasons, comfort, security, the fear they will never find better, the list is endless, as I said I could have as well, yet am so thankful for whatever the reason, be it fate, Karma, destiny, or perhaps even a will I did not yet know I even possessed to do more be more, than I or anyone else believed possible.

Because I can't imagine living a life, I didn't choose or want simply because it was what was expected of me, socially, culturally or even by my family. I understand a sense of duty to ones Country or even to an extent one's family, I say extent because to do one's duty to either requires one to be true to themselves and what they believe to be true not what another tells them to be so.

Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense. Budda

Perhaps this is one of the many reasons, I have been among many things been accused of, sometimes lacking the "proper" emotional responses to certain situations, and well in many cases these accusations were not only warranted but deserved, that does not mean I do not feel, unfortunately I sometimes feel to much, that is the problem.

For reasons that have no bearing in my writing taught myself from the age of ten, to not only hide my emotions, but pretend the proper ones when required.

It is a skill that was not learned overnight and indeed one that came at a high price as I forced myself to distance my heart from my head.

But as I said before and no dought will say again many times hindsight is 20/20, because it would not be years later until I understood just how high that price would be.

The Price you see isn't always the price you ultimately pay.

K.L.S.

CHAPTER 2

What I see now as an odd twist of fate I arrived in Balmoral just when Yvette was leaving, to go back home, we had met a few times in Cherry Brook, where I spent a fair amount of time, when I still lived at home as a mutual friend of ours was my best friend from childhood whom had moved there and they had become best friends, and were actually roommates in Balmoral.

But we hadn't actually spent a lot of time together; on my trips to Cherry Brook. I went to her going away party and again one of these things I never told her (until now), I felt a little sad that she was leaving just as I was arriving, but didn't really give it much thought.

I mean we didn't know each other all that well, yet had to admit that the few times we had met I had felt very comfortable in her presence, more so than most people's, an odd and slightly unsettling thing for me.

Most people would never know this as I said I am very skilled at hiding my feelings, but I am not comfortable at social gatherings for long periods of time, I find it almost claustrophobic to be constantly around more than one person for an extended periods of time.

One of my greatest strengths and weaknesses, a strength in that it is something that has served me well, personally and professionally, yet at times hindered me as well; fortunately the former has outweighed the latter.

It was a bit complicated at this point looking back it's amusing now but at the time it wasn't as with many things in life I guess. I was actually engaged to our mutual friend and well I wasn't keen on the whole concept of being engaged or actually getting married as I said it was complicated.

Complicated such a multi purpose word, one word that can convey a multitude of meanings, and can also be interpreted in so many ways, yet makes almost us all of us go oh complicated like we automatically know what someone ,means when they say that.

But I am getting ahead of myself, Yvette left I settled into life in Balmoral, initially thinking I would at least stay the summer have some fun, then head home in the fall, as truth be told I was homesick beyond belief, but time passed I got a job and eventually Balmoral became home.

Yvette had been gone about a year when she returned rather abruptly, on our friends doorstep at the same time a friend of mine from Cherry Brook had abruptly appeared as well, so they ended up getting an apartment and the three of us naturally started hanging out a lot, especially after my engagement as it were had ended in a very bad way, and we were no longer speaking.

Initially I had planned to simply say that Yvette and I had obviously struck up a friendship upon her return and then became much more.

I have always been reluctant to share our story well my version of it with anyone else, for several reasons, partly because it is ours and despite everything we did love each other in our own once and were happy.

But to explain how fine the line between love and hate can truly be, I first have to explain the love even if only partially.

We became friends initially she and our other friend spent most of their free time drinking and picking up men, well I spent most of mine just drinking, but after our friend moved back home, Yvette and I started spending more time together.

There has never been a doubt for either of us that we did have a connection from the moment we met it was just something we never talked about. Or actually thought about to much at least I didn't, but it was become obvious to people that knew us that we seemed to act more like a couple than just really close friends but when this was mentioned to me I was honestly stunned.

I had never allowed myself to consider a relationship with her or anyone ever again because at this point in my life, I had decided that love was a distraction that would keep me from achieving my goals, as proven by my last two failed relationships, where I chose well honestly I had no real definitive plan or goal but knew it wasn't what my respective significant others thought it should be, nor did it actually include them.

But upon stepping back and thinking about it I had to admit that I missed her when I wasn't with her and couldn't imagine not at least talking to her once a day. But us more than friends well I didn't think she felt the same way and I couldn't imagine not having her as a friend.

Once when I was young I thought variety to be the spice of life and monogamy a word not a promise to be kept, then I met her it was the first and last time I ever felt woogly inside and since that day the sight of her feels just as intense as the first, she makes my heart smile and my soul sing.

K.L.S.

I wrote that after the first night Yvette and I not only admitted our feelings for each other but finally acted on them as well. Yet another thing I have never until now shared with anyone including her.

Even now I remember that night so clearly, we had started spending Sunday nights together at her place as she lived alone and I had roommates at the time, we'd have dinner and watch movies and I'd stay over but always slept on the couch, which even now makes me chuckle as when she stayed over at my place she stayed in my bed, we of course had separate blankets but nonetheless shared the bed.

But at her place we were alone and the unspoken attraction was like a wall between us, neither of us wanted to acknowledge let alone breach.

Her apartment was small but quaint, it had a gas fireplace and an old rotary phone that hung on the wall the thing was not only old but antique and the handset weighed a ton. There was essentially a kitchen\living room. Bedroom and bathroom, the bedroom had no door just a beaded curtain that we always laughed about.

We had reached a point where we laid together on the couch but on opposite ends with our feet in the middle, very proper of course, but in the summer her place got unbearably hot and I had started sleeping with my shirt off, Yvette told me later she found my back incredibly sexy, which of course made me only want to show off for her.

Even after we'd been together for years I always wanted to show off for her and to a lesser degree her friends as well, it made her happy because everyone knew that I only had eyes for her and yes it didn't hurt my ego to know that she still found me just as attractive as when we first met.

We'd go camping I'd chop would in a tank top so she could watch my shoulders flex, I'd have done it shirtless but well she didn't mind others checking me out, there were limits, something's were for her eyes only and in that we both agreed.

I may not have been overly jealous but I had my limits and when one of our friends had the nerve to do more than flirt in outright suggesting they have a little fun one night well just say if Yvette hadn't so skillfully distracted me or rather completely surprised me by dragging me into a bathroom stall with her and kissing me well she abruptly put her hands down my pants, well our friends might have seen another side of the seemingly mild mannered spouse they all mistakenly thought me to be.

Disappointingly we got tossed out of the bathroom and club before we could finish what she started, but the look on our friends faces especially the on whom had hit on Yvette made me feel to good to do anything more than comment on how lucky I was to have such an amazing girlfriend.

I was, because when it was good between us it was good maybe to good, she told me once that in many ways no one she has dated since we split has measured up me or more accurately to what we had, well I should be flattered it makes me a little sad.

Partly because I wish her to be happy, and partly because I know what she means, for the first five years we were together it was like we lived in our own fairytale, we worked and lived together, yet still missed each other when we were apart.

We compromised yet were equals and shared with each other almost every aspect of our life, with the exception of finances; we made decisions always with the other in mind.

We from the beginning chose to never share money, and indeed fought about many things in our relationship but money unlike most couples was not one of them.

We shared all household expenses equally, but everything else vehicles, personal debt, savings we kept separate, something that for some reason bothered many of our friends, whom argued that was not how a real marriage should be.

What I always found amusing about that was most of them spent a lot of time fighting about money and how it was spent and in some cases were continuously behind in bills and rent, something we never did. We knew our respective financial responsibilities and dealt with them accordingly.

So much so that when I first left the job we had worked together for so long and questioned whether or not I was living the life I really wanted to be and actually left and went back to my hometown without her, I ensured that my half of our household expenses were in place.

I stayed a month, we spoke at least every couple of days but she never pushed about when I'd be coming home she'd just fill me in on what she'd been up to what our friends were up to and such.
(Continues...)


Excerpted from Beautifully BROKEN by C.L. FORD. Copyright © 2013 by C.L. Ford. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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