Broken Promises

Broken Promises

Broken Promises

2 May 2017

Photo credit: Copyright: <a href=’https://www.123rf.com/profile_chr1′>chr1 / 123RF Stock Photo</a>

I am staring at the messes surrounding me.  Fences tipped over.  Boards fallen off the fence.  A sprinkler system on one setting.  Windows with no coverings.  A china cabinet with a broken door.  Holes in the walls.  A satellite radio cord that came loose.  An old sink rotting on the side of the house.  Tools left everywhere.  An old grill.  Tires.  Cupboards taking up space in a garage, that I’m attempting to clean (the clutter, at least).  A garden full of weeds.  An unfinished patio.  Weeds everywhere.  Boxes left behind.  Everything left behind.  All of this, and more, are broken promises that linger, hovering like a ghost sweeping through the walls of each room.  In my family, we call it unfinished projects.  In this instance, I am surrounded by promises with no intention to fulfill them.

I am left to clean everything up; something very common in a past relationship.  “Just leave it.  Karen will take care of it.  Karen will clean up.  Karen will…”

Karen won’t.

I will not take care of “things” any longer.  I will leave it in a pile for someone else to deal with.  I will not go through boxes, bags and totes, sifting to set the important things aside.  I am sick of it.  I am tired of it. I no longer have to put up with this mentality.  Yet, I recognize that I also fed into this mentality, this behavior, and now need to set up boundaries to begin breaking this behavior.

This is week five and I begin to write from airports and hotels.  I’ve been pinching every penny, staying put while someone else spends money, flitting from country to country; city to city, and not alone, enjoying a gazillion (unoriginal) vacations.  Things seem extremely unfair while the OP gets away with everything; appears to be untouchable, yet wavers hoping that I will immediately jump on every reply.  The phone calls are long gone. The texts are long gone. It’s just Google hangouts-nothing more, nothing less; the bare existence of a voice.

I am traveling for work.  Friends have reached out, offering brief moments of solitude in different places, and I have gladly accepted their kindness.

Week five also means I am smack-dab in the middle of my last term, and have begun my journey into the heart of my education, thesis, and research paper writing.  I am taking a break from fixing broken promises to fix myself.  To take care of me.

I have moved beyond the inciting incident in my novel.  There is the progressive climb into the rising action.  The climax is not far off now-another 5,000 words.  Chapters 8 and 9 were submitted on Sunday, and they were emotionally-charged.  Nick has, once again, left Natalie to clean up and deal with things.  She has just realized how often this happens.  Does Nick leave a trail of broken promises?  I sense Natalie is going to learn far more than she ever imagined as I begin my descent into the completion of my novel.  At this time in my thesis, the characters are now breathing lives of their own and begun taking over the story.

I am looking forward to the short break away from all that engrosses my current situation, atmosphere, and life.  I am looking forward to letting the ambiance of new places, familiar faces, and exciting scenery soak into my soul.  I have only just begun this next journey of travel.  There is more to come.

 

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