Monstrosity&Romance

a-monster-calls-3.jpgSaid the Beast, “my heart is good, but still I am a monster.” “Among mankind,” says Beauty, “there are many that deserve that name more than you, and I prefer you, just as you are, to those, who, under a human form, hide a treacherous, corrupt, and ungrateful heart.”

I spend a great deal of time thinking about the romance in monstrosity, and the monstrosity in romance… Even before this fabulous trend of fairy tales being turned into television shows and before Hollywood had the opportunity to make our favorite fairy tales even more dramatic than they already were, romance in monstrosity was already so relevant to us.

“A tale as old as time” isn’t just a cheeseball line from that song, Madame de Beaumont wrote “Beauty and the Beast” in 1740. The close relationship between romance and monstrosity has been present in our culture for at least 277 years… at least! She was hardly the first writer to romanticize monstrosity, but is certainly one of the more recognized presently.

So what do I mean by monstrosity in romance and the romance in monstrosity? I’m talking the kind of lovers who eventually turn into our personal monsters; love that turns (us) into monsters; situations that cause us to view love as monstrous ‘otherness’.

I have a problem with romanticizing monstrosity for 277 years, because I’ve been addicted to it my whole dating life without ever knowing. I’ve been in love with the duality of monsters for as long as I can remember. They are villains to some, and heroes to others…but they had depth. Loving them took a little work, and it was always worth it in the end of the story. I could identify with that… as a kid, I always felt maybe a little too grown for my peers and as an adult maybe a little to empathetic and emotional for the masses.. and just maybe loving me takes a little extra work.

The complexity of the monster always resonated with me though. Whether that means I identified with them or loved their multi-faceted characters… and I’m finding that maybe it’s not the most conventional love, but it’s mine and mine alone…

My modern monster is just affectionate enough for me to stick around but indifferent enough to never commit and provide me any sort of security in our ties. And who knows, maybe his monster is a neurotic know-it-all who is a little too intense and a little too emotional for him at times… But I do know the world could be ten Prince Charmings for every one Beast, and I’d find the Beast every time. I’d love him for his imperfections and his shortcomings. I’d love him because he’s mine and mine alone. And I’d love him because unlike most people I encounter, I find his imperfections beautiful and that they compliment my own…

“I don’t get him. He’s weird. And he’s never going to give you what you want and need out of a partner.”

And to that I say: he’s mine to understand.

I love my monster, he is mine and mine alone.

To Be Continued,

B&B

**For anyone who hasn’t read the original version of the “Beauty and the Beast“, feel free to click on the hyperlink and take a read (it’s a quick read, I promise).**

Unsent Messages

To the man who describes himself as a broken-hearted hero, 

I thought love was jealous, fragile, and painful. I thought everyone who loved deeply, did so complicatedly. 

Since you, I’ve discovered love through the purest of sources: friendship and kindness. 

The kind of love that makes me feel seen. The kind of love that makes me feel heard. 

It’s that kind of familial love I didn’t realize I already knew, and had no idea I would someday gain even more of. 

Because of what I’ve learned since you, I was ready for him. To see him. To hear him. To love him. 

I’m thankful for where my path has brought me. I hope you can say the same. 

Sincerely, 

The confident queen who walked away

Love letters from a fembot

You took my compliment as an insult, and for that I must explain: when I say I love you the way I love women, it’s the highest compliment I can offer.

I know these women.
I know their hearts.
I trust their intentions.
I trust their judgement.

Telling you I love you the way I love my women, it says

I know you.
I know your heart.
I trust your intentions.
I trust your judgement.

The men in my life come and go. Though I hold their friendships dear to my heart, the ties always tend to fade.

The women, they’re for life.

Pick any one of them, and I can honestly say there will never be another her.

Just as there will now never be another you.

I tell you I love you the way I love my women, because it’s honest and because it’s true.

Grace I

It’s funny how my memories of you can spill onto a piece of paper in a series of letters; foreign to the unlearned, yet just as beautiful.

But I scrawl them out on whatever sits in front of me, as if hesitating for one more second would erase you from my mind.
The shape of your bones drip with blue ink on a crumpled up newspaper that I’ve been meaning to throw away for weeks.

The curve of your smile and the softness in your eyes engraved in the floor at the bottom of the staircase after I lost the strength to climb them. Or maybe I lost the will to climb to an empty room.

I can see the curls of your hair dancing off your shoulders as you tiptoe across the room staining the couch with your favorite color of nail polish.

Your pale white skin and the constellations of freckles on your stomach defaces every mirror I’ve looked into because I’d rather see that than see the hallow eyes and sunken cheeks pretending to be me.

And there, chiseled into the mantle where the dust surrounded old picture frames, is the makeshift novel of how your sharp breaths pierce my ear when I plant my lips on your collar bone.

I can see your nimble hands unperched from your hips as they reach out for mine scribbled across the doorway from the day I thought I could leave, but just kept waiting for you to follow.

It’s funny how all of these memories of you can spill out and be just as beautiful.

Book Club Part One: Fluid


And guess what…she LOVED it.

“FLUID is a gritty interactive novel that explores the nature of free will, through both the large story of a cosmic battle between good and evil, and the small story of two teenagers yearning for connection in a greedy, manipulative world.”

Have you ever read a book and forgotten that it’s not real life and you don’t actually know the characters? …you’re basically Gilmore Girl level acquainted with the characters, and you’re rooting for them/with them?

That’s how “fluid” was for me, and like all things I’m obsessed with…I share it with the masses! I’m not going to go into too much detail, because the author does a much better job at summarizing it than I ever could.

It’s an adult interactive book, so check it out on a digital platform (iBooks, nook, etc.) I also highly recommend you head over to his website. You can get more information about it there.

I have read it three times and I’m consistently in love with the content in this book… It’s a must-read!

Oh, and just as a fantastic side note: you can stalk the author on Instagram (I already do, regularly): @TravisSentell -not only is he a phenomenal writer, but he takes beautiful photos of his travels! Oh, and he’s a total silver fox with gorgeous blue eyes…so there’s that. 😉

To Be Continued.

B&B

Erica III: End

I made a list of all the words I should have said to you.
They turned into a book; the kind of book that you can read over and over, and still learn something new.
But there was a certain way the words looked to me every night.
They spelled out something sinister, and somehow never looked quite right.
They would stare me in the face and mock me for not understanding them.
And as soon as I’d start to figure it out, they would mix themselves up again.
The story never changes though.
It’s always the story of me and you, and all the things we’d never make it through.
And I guess somehow, before I even wrote it, I always knew.
I’ve memorized the lines but can’t quite figure out what to do.
When my arms reach out, grabbing nothing but air as if the emptiness is trying to give me a clue.
When I stop breathing to try and hear your heartbeat just once more, until my body starts to turn blue.
My God, what am I supposed to do when my sheets no longer smell like you?

For Her, Forgotten

She quietly died in a room where no one had bothered to change the calendar in for five years.
It was a decision she had made a few months before but never found the courage to go through with. That was largely in part of her never being alone.

Before then, I had left her side only once. It was something I deeply regretted but learned to forget over time.

I knew how much it hurt, but she said, “The heart heals because it’s made to take chances.” That never made me feel better, but it did give me a reason to breathe.

But by and by, the air grew thin until we found ourselves struggling to find enough for the both of us again. Or maybe she was just choosing not to take her share.

Fearing suffocation, or perhaps embracing the outcome more than she thought possible, she secluded herself to a small box to keep her safe from me. Or so I thought.

As the days passed, I couldn’t bear the stinging absence of her lips on mine. I couldn’t stand the sight of her not standing next to me, or the feeling of my fingers being able to touch in the void that her’s once filled.

So I found her there, her heart not quite healed but unable to break ever again.

Her lifeless lips with no intention to ever touch mine; her limp body with no means of standing next to me; her fingers unable to place themselves in the void they once filled.

She quietly died in a room where no one had even bothered to change the calendar in for five years.

Emilie I 

Kevin now has his own corner on Basic&Bipolar. Enjoy his beautiful words below, and under the menu option “It’s All Copacetic“.

I can hardly remember the way you tossed your hair; something I’ve studied on numerous occasions. I catch glimpses now and again as trees reach out and swing their branches in the wind. And the wind still carries your scent, following me everywhere I go, urging me to look back and see you standing there. But I still have trouble remembering the way you tossed your hair.

I can hardly relive the flashbacks of your lips pressing tightly together and melting away from mine only to tease; like a newly blossomed rosebud opening for the bees and then withering away the second it slips in. Then hunger ensues; hunger for your lips. But I still have trouble reliving those flashbacks.

I can hardly feel your hands. I imagine they would be lost in mine, our fingers intertwined like the mossy overhang on our front porch door. Our front door, it creaked slightly when you crept in, opening it slowly to soften the sound.

Oh, I can hardly recall the sound! The sound of your voice as it trembles beneath a whisper, forcing out those words. And I’m still holding onto those words. You said that if I left there’s no way you’d survive.

Then you left…so, are you still alive? I can hardly recall.

Erica II

 

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Kevin now has his own corner on Basic&Bipolar. Enjoy his beautiful words below, and under the menu option “It’s All Copacetic“.

I’ve memorized how many steps it takes to get to your room.

Not because I keep count, but because I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve walked that path.

I’ve learned to navigate through your house in the dark, tip toe dancing around every shadow and missing every loose floorboard for fear of waking the ghosts of our past.

Not because I’ve made enemies with them, but because they are no longer happy when I’m around.

Still, I make my way through obstacle courses of the pain and misery that comes with my having you, only to have you for one more night.

Not because I enjoy the sorrow, but because you’re worth the suffering.

I’ll create more of the ghosts that I keep putting to rest just to navigate your coasts and put my heart to the test.

I’ve taken so much more than I ever thought I could before for just one more night with my arms wrapped tight around the only girl to ever create and destroy my world.

And if ever faced with the question, I’d do it all over again.

Stagnation

 Relationships without passion: they happen to us all

Lately, I’ve been thinking about romantic relationship dynamics  and the people in my life who I think are either just tolerating their relationships or are wildly unhappy. And from what I’ve noticed in the love lives of my friends and family members, it seems to be a theme that a person ought to settle until something better comes along… Or they stay in these stagnant (and non-passionate) relationships because there’s so much history there.

This realization obviously saddens me (and should sadden us all), because these loved ones are not only settling, but nurturing an unwanted flower with tainted water. Relationships are fucking hard any time two people are involved (I say two people, because my cat and I get along beautifully).

Why bother putting work into a relationship with someone who you don’t really feel excited to be with?

These musings came to me while I was with my friend, discussing a relationship that ended a lifetime ago. It was a saga that went on for years, and it took me a really long time to realize that this individual didn’t give the slightest shit about what was important to me in life. All of the causes that are near and dear to my heart, he never asked about or took interest in my thoughts on them. This was someone who allegedly loved me, but never really knew or liked anything about me as a societal being. The stuff I care about and invest my time into is a HUGE part of who I am. Looking back, I can’t really figure out why he hung around so long if he had no interest in the entirety of who I am.

So, I then decided to look at the relationships of my loved ones….and that’s how I arrived at the mindset that a lot of them are just waiting around until they find something better. Someone whose interests better align with theirs.

After it took so long for me to realize that my past relationship was just a place-holder for a better mate, I never want to be in that type of relationship again. I want to be excited to be with someone; I want to feel honored to be in their life, and vice versa-and I want all of these things for my loved ones (this extends to each of my beautiful readers).

Maybe I’m wrong, and there’s nothing wrong with settling. These are just the musings of one woman.

To Be Continued,

B&B