Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Unrequited

If you are new to reading my blog, then you may not know this, but I am the Queen of Unrequited Love. It's super awesome. I came across a posting of places you can submit essays for publication and The New York Times Modern Love blog is always looking for submissions. So, I took a deep breath and wrote my own live story and submitted it. It had to be a true story that was previously unpublished, including on a blog. So, I never said anything here for that purpose. That is until I got a lovely rejection from them this morning, I'm now sharing my super awesome sorry with you.

UNREQUITED
By: Soozee Carmichael

When I was five, I kissed Bobby Anderson on the swing set in his backyard, which was next door to my house. I thought I was going to love him forever. And then I saw the wolf spider on my leg and screamed and ran back home. Bobby didn't talk to me for many years. This should have been an indication of what my love life would be like in the future, but who thinks that when they're five?

At sixteen, I started my first job bagging groceries in our local store. That's how I met Charlie Cook. He was bringing in a load of carts from the parking lot. He pushed the carts into their place and turned and nodded in my general direction. I swooned internally. He was tall, blonde, and very handsome. I fell for him right then. I didn't even know his name, but I knew we were perfect for each other. He walked towards me and I almost fainted. Then, passing me, said hi to Jessica, the girl at the register behind me. I can still feel the embarrassment. The ironic thing is that both Charlie and Jessica became two of my best friends. We were almost inseparable for the year and a half we worked through high school.

Junior year I finally mustered enough courage to ask Charlie to the Sweethearts dance. He lived in the next town over and went to our school's biggest rival. I liked that he didn't go to school with me, because I wanted to show up at the dance with someone no one knew and was a little mysterious. Except, no one actually noticed me or Charlie. We danced and then went home. The night ended with an awkward side hug. I still thought we were perfect for each other. He just wanted to be friends.

I chose to go on a mission for my church. The night before I left home for a year and a half, Charlie stopped by to say goodbye. I remember hugging him so tightly and praying that he'd still be around when I got home. We'd been through so much together and in the back of my mind I still loved him. That was the first time I dreamed about Dean Carmichael. In this dream, I walked along a beach. There was a black and white lighthouse in the distance and I was wearing a simple white dress. I walked up to him and he took my face in his hands and kissed me. It was a deep, emotion driven kiss. He never told me his name, I just knew that his name was Dean Carmichael and that we were in love. And then, I woke up. It felt so real that it took a minute to realize he wasn't actually here. It wasn't real.

During my mission, I didn't think about Charlie or anything else from back home. My days were filled with service. I heard from many of my friends each week, but not Charlie. I think that was for the best. When I got home, I stopped by his house and although I still loved him, it was different. We'd both changed while I was gone. He'd fallen in love with a mutual friend somewhere along the way. Within a few months, he turned up on my doorstep with an invitation to the wedding.

Wedding season is the worst when you're single. Especially when you think you might still have feelings for the groom. I sat outside Charlie's reception for a while deciding if I was actually going to go in. I decided I'd regret it if I didn't and walked in. Charlie told me this wouldn't change anything. We'd always be friends. But I knew our friendship was over. Surprisingly, I didn't cry after I left. In fact, somehow I knew this was for the best. Charlie was happy, and that's what I wanted for my friend.


It was a long time before I thought I loved someone. Then Jason Lockhart showed up. He walked into church one Sunday full of confidence and charisma. I should have known nothing good would come of this. There he was with his beard and longish hair, looking like a mountain man. He sat by me and we talked for a long time. I invited him to come hang out with me and my friends, and I would often cook because I knew he was coming. I'm an amazing cook and he would always tell me so. The rest of my life was a mess. I hadn't finished school yet and didn't even know what I wanted to do. I liked talking to him because he was a few years older and seemed to be so much smarter than me. When we were with groups of people he was always aware of where I was in the room. He would gently grab my arm as I walked by from time to time and I thought for sure I was in love for real this time.

With the coercion of a friend, I asked Jason out. The date was a mess, and I ended up with a fever before the night ended. He made sure I got home safely and asked if he'd see me the next day. I told him that I had a lot to do and that he probably would. He looked concerned.

“Take it easy. No need to stress yourself out.” He told me.

“I'll be fine. I'm sure this fever will break and I'll see you tomorrow.” I replied.

“I'm going to call if I don't see you, okay?” He asked. I blushed a little, though you probably couldn't tell from the fever and nodded. He gave me a tight hug and then left. That night, while reveling in the short lived joy of the evening before I started getting sick, I fell asleep and dreamed of Dean Carmichael again. This time I was visiting the grocery store I had once worked in. I held Dean's hand and an old coworker approached me. He asked how I'd been and kept looking at Dean like he couldn't believe we were together. I just smiled and Dean put his arm around me. The love I felt for Dean was beyond anything I'd ever felt for Jason. I woke up again almost looking for Dean in my small twin bed.

The next morning I felt like death. I didn't leave my bed. Jason called, as promised. Our conversation lasted thirty-two seconds. His tone was different. I knew then that everything had changed. I don't know what changed, but he didn't pay me much attention after that. He always talked about doing stuff, but was always busy. He moved away a few months later and I never saw him again.

Shortly after Jason moved, I had another dream with Dean. This one was a little different from the others. I was packing for a trip and Dean came into our room. He went over to the closet and started helping me pack.

“I don't want to go,” I told him.

“It won't be forever. I promise,” he told me back. I awoke again. I was now twenty eight. I had never had a serious boyfriend and every time I had fallen in love it had been unrequited. But in my dreams, there was a man that loved me beyond reason. And even when I was going somewhere, he was quick to remind me that he would always be there for me.

After Jason, I started to be a lot more cautious about who I let in to my life. I met a guy that seemed very Dean-like. Eddie Cooper and I had a lot of the same interests and even pursued the same degree in school. But he was very flaky, either showing up very late or not at all. When I'd see him again he'd be very quick to compliment my beauty or tell me how wonderful I was. Unfortunately for him, I already knew I was beautiful and didn't like my time to be wasted.

In the midst of falling for Eddie, and then un falling for Eddie I had another dream with Dean. This time I was getting ready for an evening to honor an achievement I had earned for my writing. I walked into the living room and he was wearing a well fitted dark blue suit. I put my last earring in and he smiled as I entered the room.

“You look breathtaking” he told me. I didn't say anything in return. I just kissed him gently on the lips and took his arm as we walked out of our house together. When I woke up this time I felt alone and left out. This dream, more than the others, seemed impossible. I felt like all I was ever going to find were the Eddies of the world. Or maybe the Jasons. My Twenty ninth birthday was hard. I felt like an old maid that would never be wanted by anyone. Dean had become a horrible nightmare that I dreaded seeing when I closed my eyes.

Somewhere along the way I realized Dean Carmichaels don't come around everyday. And if I want to find a Dean Carmichael, I need to be the best version of myself. I want to be that girl in my dreams. The one that he can adore, and that adores him in return. Instead of sitting by, waiting for him to show up, I decided to take my future into my own hands. I picked a major and got a degree. I focused on how I could help those around me. I bake treats and take them to people because who doesn't love a delicious home baked treat? I don't need to find Dean this very minute. I need to be the best I can so that when I do find Dean, and I will, I can fall in love with him without worry or regret. I'll know that all the waiting was worth it.

Monday, August 22, 2016

Best. Day. Ever....or something

Okay. So. Almost a year ago I replaced Tom Hiddleston as my favorite actor. I replaced him with Richard Armitage after I watched North and South this time last year. It's AMAZING if you haven't seen it. And today is Richard's birthday. For a full post on the awesomeness of his birthday, go check out my StarStruck Baking blog at the link to the right of this section. But, in honor of his birthday and because of how much I LOVED North and South, I thought I'd share a found poem I wrote from page 192 of the novel North and South by Elizabeth Gaskill.

And, for those that may not be aware of what a found poem is, it's when you take a page of text and create a poem using only the words on that page. It can be tricky, but I have found it to be so rewarding. So, here it is:

Fancied Words
A Found Poem by Soozee Carmichael


I simply escape from obligation
and choose a natural sanctity of pride.
To find gladness that sharpens life
with him henceforward, a stern gratitude
of passion and existence would feel triumphant.

Haste should not be pungently natural
or a question to myself of intensity.
A calm value to him, whom I come
to owe love and determination of an honest existence.
Fancied or not fancied.

I will love his voice with tender intensity
and a gladness that is pure and deep.
I exult in a rather hastily and thoughtless love.
Looking by instinct, faltering to his hand
I simply knew his words would not be stopped.




Any way, there you go! Hope you enjoyed the poem and if you haven't already, go watch North and South. It's on Netflix and everything!

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Sometimes life is just hard

My car died last week. Grayson. I had him for a year. Almost to the day. He was a good car. Got me from A to B. And from B back to A, or sometimes to C. But he always got me home. Man, he was a good car. Named him after Dick Grayson from the comic books. Because I'm a comic book nerd. And it wasn't overly obvious. I don't like to be in your face, generally, with what I do and don't like/obsess over. Like comic books. If you guys knew the extent that my level of comic book nerd actually was, you'd be surprised, I think.

Any way, Grayson died and I have had a while to contemplate what I'm doing with my life. I don't have a new job yet. #anyonewanttohireawriter? I am living in the basement of my childhood home, questioning my life choices. I have a degree that my dad thinks is useless and currently he's trying really hard not to say "I told you so." BUT, despite all the opposition waiting for me to fail, I feel like this is my time to keep pushing forward. Not stopping the momentum. Well, there's not really a lot of momentum at this particular moment. Mostly I just can't stop trying. I can't stop working hard to find that elusive new job. And reach for my amazing dreams. I don't expect to become a screenwriter tomorrow, that's the end game. But I can get a new job now that will take me to the next step that will take me to the next step that will eventually lead to me becoming a screenwriter and making Changing Tyde into a movie. And LIGHTS. Because I know that's what y'all want, right?! RIGHT!

So, today I sit on my bed in my room that is full of boxes I haven't unpacked. And won't unpack until I move again. And while I sit, I keep thinking about how awesome my life actually is. It's not where I want to be, but it's not a bad place to start from. This is only the beginning, peeps. Only the beginning.

And in honor of this moment, I will share with you a poem I wrote. It's for LIGHTS. And it's been published in a student journal at UVU. And has an odd resemblance to my life. Sort of. I'm not a dancer. Obviously. But, how many times do we come across something trying to hold us back? And we have to fight and in the end there's triumph and pirouettes. And sometimes those pirouettes are the cookies and not the dance move. Ha ha.

Shadow and a Dancer


Creeper creeps in
darkness and night.
Dancer twirls,
twists and turns
together in motion.

He hides behind
her watching, waiting.
turn. stop. lift. stop.
Seeing no one she
dances until dawn
when nothing remains.

Struggle and fight,
she pushes beyond
shadow falls
while light remains

triumph and pirouettes.